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#spring has never come this early.
devils-little-sista · 2 years
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Lungs trying to asphyxiate me constant coughing head hurt back hurt shoulders hurt feet hurt occasional sinus clogging starting to feel hot and cold at the same time. All these things trying to kill me at once and failing. I’m starting to root for them to succeed because I know there’s no way to stop or lessen any of it.
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magicmorningmeteora · 6 months
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The Spring of Departures Has Come
Spring is a season with longtime associations with new beginnings, including those brought about by graduation.
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One harsh reality one must live with as a wota is the possibility of your oshi graduating. Be it to pursue a new career path, focus on studies or health, or to retire from entertainment (and hopefully not the mortal plane), there's many a reason for an idol to utter that word.
For Harowota, we will enter summer having seen at least three such idols take part in the ritual.
The spring of departures has come, hasn't it?
So, who's ready for Round 2?!
Note: As you can probably tell, this poll was made before Ichioka Reina's announcement. And Yamazaki Yuhane's.
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wall-e-gorl · 7 months
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just finished the last step of decluttering my room 💪why did i have so much stuff 💪
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suguann · 6 months
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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.
It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.
“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 
“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 
The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.
He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”
“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.
Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.
Honestly, it’s that you—
(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)
It’s weird because it’s almost like you—
(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 
Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)
He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.
You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.
Sometimes, he wishes—
(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.
Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)
But you—
(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 
It slowly shifts and changes over time.
You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)
You really are—
(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.
It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 
He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.
“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”
When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.
“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)
“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.
“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.
“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”
“But yours.”
This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”
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nyankochan · 3 months
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Mating Season: Dragon Slayers x fem!reader
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Synopsis: You personally hate when mating season comes around, because you are hopelessly lost to your desires. At least you have your mate to generously take care of you. Pairings: [SEPARATE] Natsu x Reader, Laxus x Reader, Sting x Reader, Rogue x Reader, Gajeel x Reader
Content: MDNI, fem! reader, reader is also a dragon slayer, rough sex, unprotected, bodyworship, breeding, Dacryphilia (Natsu), overstimulation, Slight asphyxiation (Laxus) mates (heat and rut cause it makes sense in my head), oral (male and female receiving), dirty talk (Sting & Gajeel), pet names (Sting calls you Angel and Gajeel calles you doll), slight degradation (Gajeel), shower sex (Rogue), cowgirl (Sting), I hope I didn’t forget anything else but sorry if I did.
Word count: 5.4K (I'm tired of my foolishness)
A/N: hoping I resurrect the Fairy Tail fandom with the upcoming release of Fairy Tail 100 year quest. I was going to add Cobra and Acnologia but this shit just got too long
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Like clockwork, when early spring rolls around, around mid March to early April, you begin to notice changes. They're subtle changes, unnoticeable to even your closest friends around you at first. You're more antsy when away from your partner for long periods of time, and you've started nesting in your shared home. Just about every article of clothing that has yours and his scent has been gathered and formed into a little fort that brings you a sense of comfort when he's away for work. Still, it does nothing to quell the desire aching in between your legs, and as the days wear on, you grow increasingly frustrated and thus irritable. While you don't mean to, you end up snapping at your guildmates more frequently during this time, only mellowing down when your partner is around and you're comforted by the smell of their pheromones.
It's soon becomes virtually impossible for you to go on quests for an extended duration, and your partner subtly becomes clingier. He's on edge, without even realizing it, always guarding you from other males who foolishly stray too close and making you wear articles of clothing that smell like him. They begin picking fights with others more often, sometimes over the littlest things. They also always return with a gift of some sorts after completing a quest: jewelry, your favorite candy, useless trinkets that just caught their eye and thought you'd like. Your satisfaction appeases their ego and instinct to court you.
The changes in behavior is subtly picked up on by the rest of the guild and virtually no one questions it when the both of you go missing for a few weeks.
Natsu - 「Heated Passion」
Natsu is easily the densest and most combative during mating season. Although you've been mated for about three years now, he never seems to pick up right away what season it is, and you’re too embarrassed to vocalize your desire for him to fuck you senseless. Therefore, the rest of the guild is unfortunately victim to his pent up anger and overprotectivess. Gray talks to you? A fight. Loke offers you something he collected on one of his missions? A fight AND he’s trying to one up him with something even better.
Nastu is particularly hostile with Laxus and Gajeel, as they are the only other male dragon slayers. Laxus couldn’t be bothered. Gajeel on the other hand, definitely taunts him, but not to the point where he’d go so far as to do anything to you. He just likes pissing Natsu off. He would never disrespect someone else’s mate.
Of course though, Igneel had taught him what mating season is. Natsu’s not that dense. Rather, it just takes a minute for him to realize what time of year it is, and when he does, you’re his for the month.
The air is hot from the scent of Natsu’s pheromones mixing with yours. Your mind is hazy and clouded with lust, so you’re not even sure what day it is anymore. Your body is achy and littered with bite marks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, only wanting more.
“N-Natsu~” your pleas are a weak whimper.
Natsu currently has one of your legs thrown over his shoulder while his mouth’s attached to your weeping cunt. He eats you out like a starved man, greedily slurping down all you have to offer. As his tongue moves in and out of your folds at a rough pace, he holds your thighs tightly, burying his face deeper in between them. It doesn’t matter how many times he tastes you, he will never be satisfied. He gets painfully hard just from eating you out, his cock stiff and leaking pre-cum against his abdomen, and he could cum alone from the way your fingers weave in and tug on his hair.
This unfortunately means you’re left overstimulated from orgasm after orgasm. The bad part is, due to the intense haze caused by the excessive pheromones, Natsu truly doesn’t realize until you’re crying, practically begging for him to stop.
“N-no more.” You writhe against the sheets, turning your body to pull away from the greedy dragon slayer. “C-can’t cum anymore.”
A low growl resonates in the back of Natsu’s throat. He grabs and pulls you by your ankle, an easy feat from the way your legs feel like jello. You’re then pinned under his heavy body, sweat and heat radiating off the close proximity of his chest.
“Mine,” Natsu grumbles. He kisses away the tears trickling your cheeks before nuzzling against your neck. You let out a small whimper feeling the swollen head of his cock press against your hole. As you tense, Natsu intertwines his fingers with yours, a soft, subtle reassurance. “Mine…mine…please don’t leave, y/n”
“I’m yours, Natsu.”
Natsu’s canines graze the side of your neck before biting down harshly to draw blood. His hips snap against yours at quick pace while you keen helplessly against him. You feel so deliciously full, his cock reaching the deepest parts of your inner walls leaving you a moaning mess. Still, you want him closer, deeper. You wrap your legs around Natsu’s waist, your own hips bucking up to meet his. The newfound angle has you both shuddering from pleasure.
“Mine,” Natsu grunts. “Mine. My mate.”
See, when Natsu gets close to cumming, he begins to whine. His thrusts become more frantic and erratic as he desperately chases his release. Not even for his own pleasure, but his dragon instincts are telling him to breed. To fill you up and dripping with his seed.
He captures your lips in a sloppy kiss, biting your bottom lip teasingly. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you’re coming undone. Your body shivers and your legs are twitching. Your orgasm releases another wave of pheromones which ultimately pushes Natsu over the edge.
With a low whine, his hips press against yours as his own release hits. He stills completely, ensuring he emptied inside you completely before collapsing on top of you.
After a moment of post-sex clarity and some of the intense pheromones disappear, you groan, “Natsu, you’re heavy.”
But he’s already passed out, and you’re stuck in his hold until he rouses you up for another round.
Laxus- 「Electric Desire」
Laxus tries hard to not show his annoyance when mating season rolls around. After all, you two have been mated for the longest out of any couple, so at this point, he should be used to it by now, right? Wrong. Laxus, despite not showing it, gets jealous easily. He won’t say anything directly, but it’s hard not to notice his intense aura that becomes somewhat suffocating to those around him when a member of the Thunder Legion, or worse, another male dragon slayer gets too close to you.
Laxus is less subtle about whisking you away. In fact, he has no problem with throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you out of the guild to your shared apartment.
“Oi, Laxus!” You squirm in his hold. “Put me down already. I’m capable of walking on my own.” Laxus merely ignores you and the strange stares you both get as he walks through Magnolia. After all, it’s taking everything in him to hold his composure as your scent makes him harder and harder. “Laaxusss~” you whine only to be met with a harsh slap against your ass.
By the time you guys make it home, Laxus has more than enough pent up frustration to release and you’re more than happy to receive. The moment the front door closes, Laxus wastes no time pressing you against it, his large hand around your throat as his lips roughly capture yours. You moan into the kiss, beginning to feel lightheaded. Although you do your best to push Laxus back to breathe, his massive frame overpowers yours. He pins your hands above your head, nudging your legs apart with his knee to get even closer. The overwhelming scent of his pheromones sends blood rushing to your head, a euphoric feeling of the pain, and it felt like you could pass out any moment.
You shamelessly rolled your hips against Laxus’s, groaning at the feeling of his erection straining against his pants. At this, Laxus lets out a throaty growl. Once again, he has you over his shoulder. The relief of air is brief as you’re soon thrown on to the living room couch. You don’t even make it down the hall to your shared bedroom.
Laxus was instantly over you. His hands ran under your shirt, tearing upward at the hem. And you didn't resist when he made short work of your pants. There was already a growing wet stain of your arousal on your lacy panties.
"I'm so wet for you, Laxy," You moaned, grinding your hips against your boyfriend trying to receive some sort of relief from friction. Laxus pinned you down, making you whine more, as he tears your underwear off.
“You like testing my patience, don’t you?” Laxus grunts, through his cheeks are beginning to flush red as the hazy desire begins to chip away at his restraint. He swiftly removes his shirt in one movement and starts to unbuckle his belt, freeing his aching cock from the confines of his boxers.
The thing about Laxus was, he was big. He knew it. You knew it. He was a descent size even before getting erect. But you supposed with the increased testosterone during mating season, he somehow grew even bigger. The swollen, leaky tip is an angry red, and it throbs in Laxus’s hand as he aligns himself at your entrance.
“While I’m still somewhat sane,” Laxus huffed, nudging the tip slowly inside the warmth of your cunt. His body was flushed, muscles tense. “I apologize in advance. I don’t think I can hold back.”
Your raised your hips in anticipation. “Then don’t.”
Laxus glided the last couple of inches, burying his shaft to its hilt inside you. He groaned at the feeling, gripping your hips so tight they'd bruise. He was stretching you so wide that you felt like you would rip apart, your stomach bulging slightly from his size.
With a languid roll of his hips, he experimentally pulled his length out from the clamp of your hole. And with a sharp snap of agility only a dragon slayer could demonstrate, he drove himself back into your, the sheer force of his scorching length shot the first wave of pleasure through the both of you. Laxus's body shuddered slightly anticipation. You dug your nails in Laxus's shoulders trying to keep him close. That first penetration gave way to a succession of increasingly rougher thrusts that threatened to shatter your pelvis with all the force Laxus was propelling into you. Each sharp, shooting pang of pain only amplified your enjoyment and arousal.
Laxus growled, fucking out of pure aggression. You could feel it with every frenzied pump of his hips. Lewd moans and the slapping of flesh resounded through the room. You began feeling light headed all over; your hips ached and your insides burned from Laxus's sharp violent thrusts.
Laxus groans, a telltale sign of him getting close. He hovered over You, leaning down to kiss you. His hands trailed up Your bare chest to your nipples that became erect from pleasure. Lips trailing up the side of your neck, Laxus left several bite marks. He reached the area where he had previously left his dragon slayer mark on You and sucked and bit at it aggressively.
"Ah a-ah t-that feels funny." You squirmed.
“you're mine and mine only," Laxus grunted before he bit down harshly. The mark didn't burn as bad as the first time Laxus had bit you, but it didn't mean that it still didn't hurt. “Mine…”
Laxus fumbled slightly, his aggressive and frantic rutting becoming slower and slightly sloppy, instead. You felt your own orgasm building up, to the point of almost bursting. Your body felt hot and sticky, yet you needed something to tilt you over the edge.
"L-Laxy... I need to cum," you whine. "It hurts. Please!"
"Heh..." Laxus laughed with a pant. "Always such a needy little thing."
Laxus's large hand grazed your clit. You shivered at his touch, crying out as Laxus's thumb traced over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Laxus felt his dick twitch and pressed harder, touching you teasingly slow.
"Mm-ngh- I-I'm g-gonna cum," You whined. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your insides snap. You cried out, your body spasming slightly.
"Fuck," Laxus swore. His cock, unbearably hard, buried itself all the way to the hilt inside you. It pulsated with each subsequent spurt, swelling still as he emptied inside your womb. The stimulation leaves you trembling and out of breath.
You have little time to recover as your mate puts you over his shoulder and takes you back to your bedroom. He’s still painfully erect and hasn’t had his fill of you yet.
Sting- 「Radiant Sin」
Sting is the most cocky and the biggest tease out of all the dragon slayers. It’s almost like a game to him, and he takes great satisfaction in the sight of you begging for him. Still, he is quite the jealous one and like Natsu, picks fights with the males he feels threatened by in the guild. Poor Yukino doesn’t quite understand the change in behavior at first and tries to mediate some of the conflict, but Minerva, for lack of a better word, tells her to just leave it alone and not to get in between the stupid fights of hormonal men.
You on the other hand are rather antsy. You can tell it’s that time of the year, and you’re slowly losing your composure, becoming more flustered due to the pheromones Sting was unintentionally releasing while trying to arm wrestle Orga.
Rogue is the only one to notice your growing discomfort. While he isn’t really affected by your scent in the sense it turns him on, but rather it’s giving him a headache. And since he views you like a little sister, he hates to see you suffer and your dumbass mate neglect to take care of you.
“Y/n, are you ok?” Rogue gently coaxed, brushing your hair out of your face, noticing how warm and flushed you felt.
“It’s just a little…hot, Rogue,” you mumble, trying not to let him pick up on the way you’re practically squirming in your seat. He’s a fellow dragon slayer, so even as embarrassing as it is, he knows what’s going on. And, he knows how to get Sting’s attention.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Rogue said, “as you know I value our friendship and respect your relationship with Sting.”
You’re too dazed to quite understand what he meant until you picked up on a new scent: Rogue’s own pheromones. As compared to Sting’s almost vanilla like scent, Rogue has a more deeper, woody fragrance that definitely stands out against the sweet scent you’re emulating.
It’s almost instantaneous the way Sting’s head snaps over to your direction. One quick look at your flushed expression and he’s abandoning whatever he was previously doing, rushing to your side, not before roughly shoving Rogue to the side. Rogue merely ignores the menacing glare he receives, while Sting quickly scoops you up into his arms bridal style and dashes out the guild in a flash of light.
By the time you both make it back to your shared apartment, Sting himself’s starting to feel the effects of his rut beginning to mess with his head. The whole time he was carrying you, you kept nuzzling your head into his neck, whimpering quietly with need.
“Sorry Angel,” Sting huffs, trying to set you on the bed, but you cling to his shirt, not letting him go.
“Sting, please,” you beg.
“Please, what, Angel?” Sting coos, prying your hands off of him and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other teasingly traces down the side of your waist. “I can’t help you if you don’t use your words.” You pout, making your mate chuckle at your expression which he honestly finds cute.
“Please, touch me.”
“But I already am.”
You huff in frustration, not in the mood for games. You try hopelessly and fail to break from Sting’s hold. Something about you being so powerless and fragile against him fueled an inner carnal desire within Sting, not one just to protect but in his eyes, you were his prey. And he wanted to dominate you in every way.
“A-ah, fuck,” Sting swore, his composure slowly crumbling away. He tore away your clothes. The sight of you bare and exposed had him brimming with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Angel. And you’re all mine.”
You couldn’t help feel flushed at his words, covering your face in embarrassment when you felt something prod at your cunt. Sting wedges one finger into your core, then a second one, scissoring you to stretch you out. You whimper at the penetration.
“S-Sting…”
“Shh, just relax.” Sting adds in a third finger. Now, the burn is gone and a satisfying stretch is left in its place. You moan. Your hips involuntarily buck against his hand, searching for more relief which makes the blond chuckle. “Eager, are you?”
"Sting, please," you whimper as you chase your high. Sting’s thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You clench around his fingers, signaling your release, but at the last second he pulls away. You whine at his teasing and pout.
“Don’t worry, Angel,” Sting said, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room. He palms himself through his trousers, the low guttural groan he lets out has you shivering in anticipation. His self control has run out. “You’re not going anywhere until I have you cumming around my cock and carrying my child.”
You quickly help Sting remove his pants, eagerly wanting him to fulfill his dirty promise. Sting pulls you into his lap so that you're straddling him. His hardened erection pokes at your core, making your tremble with need. He teasingly rubs against your clit, but never actually enters which makes you whine.
“Please, Sting, don’t tease me.”
“Heh, you’re cute when you beg.” Sting grabbed your hips and slammed you down on his cock. The sudden penetration and deep angle made your breath hitch. Tears prickled in your eyes. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel so good.” String groaned.
Desperate for more, you slowly raise yourself up and down the length of his cock, with minor assistance. Letting out a low moan, Sting tilted his head on the back of the headboard. He loved the way you felt around him. You were so tight, which meant he could only stretch you out more, and you equally loved the feeling.
Eventually, Sting retook the control, bucking upwards in tangent with your own movement, making him reach that sweet spot that had your legs trembling. "Ah fuck, Angel, you take my cock so well!" Sting panted.
He felt you tightening around him even more, practically trying to milk him for everything he had. His dick twitched before the first spurt of his cum shot into your womb.
"S-shit."
Sting hugs you into his chest, biting down on your neck to ground himself. You slump against his hold, all your energy gone as your orgasm washes over you. You stomach feels hot and bloated from being filled with Sting’s release.
You don’t even get a full minute of rest before Sting flips you on your backside, his cock poking at your entrance once more.
“Don’t think I’m done with you yet.” A mischievous grin spreads across Sting’s face. “I said I’m not stoping until you’re pregnant with my baby.”
Rogue - 「Shrouded in Lust」
Rogue is the most gentle of the dragon slayers. Your relationship is relatively new as you’ve only been mated for about a year and a half, therefore he often still treats you like porcelain. In fact, he feels guilty when his desires take over, even though neither of you can help it. He often prioritizes your pleasure over his own, so sometimes you have to coax him into letting you take care of him.
In fact, Rogue honestly falls into rut a few days before your heat finally starts, and he’s pretty embarrassed by his lustful urges and tries to somewhat ignore them. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t deny his instincts, and no matter how much he fucks into his hand, it doesn’t replace you.
Rogue grunts as he comes for the nth time, painting the shower wall white with his release. It’s his fourth shower of the day, and the desire only feels more intense, nagging at him and making his head fuzzy. He quite honestly can’t take it anymore.
You’re practically a saint when you arrive home. You immediately notice the thickness of the pheromones clouding your apartment. It catches you somewhat off guard at first and makes you dizzy. After dropping your belongings off at the door, you quickly follow the smell to the source, growing hotter as the pheromones intensify. You’re surprised and immediately worried upon finding Rogue sitting in the running shower, his eyes completely glazed over and out of it.
“Oh my god, Rogue!” You’re instantly at his side. The shower is ice cold but his face is flushed red with fever. “Rogue, love, can you hear me? Come on, let’s get you dry.” Rogue is all but limp as you step into the shower to hoist him up, getting soaked in the process. The water turns your shirt sheer, your nipples poking through your bra as your intoxicating scent fills Rogue’s nose. His breath hitches.
“I-I’m sorry.”
You don’t get the chance to respond when you’re hoisted up and pressed against the shower wall. Rogue’s lips attached to yours in a frantic, desperate manner, and you become acutely aware of his little problem down stairs.
“Mmph, ah! Rogue, w-wait,” you groan.
“I-I’m sorry.” Rogue buries his face into your shoulder, heaving heavily. “I-I can’t control myself. I’m sorry but fuck I need you so bad.”
You cup Rogue’s cheeks, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, making him whimper at your gentleness. “It’s ok. Just let me undress. I don’t like the feeling of wet clothes.”
Rogue has just enough patience to let you remove your clothing. But the minute you unclasp your bra and throw your panties to the side, that restraint breaks and he pins you back against the shower wall, caressing your supple skin. “I’m sorry I’m so impatient, but I want to put it in so bad.” His cheeks are burning red from embarrassment as he grinds shamelessly against you. Despite the shower practically feeling like ice now, the overwhelming arousal has him burning up.
“C-can I put it in?” Rogue peppered kisses against your neck, nipping at the skin. “Please?”
“Always such a gentleman,” you shakily exhale, grabbing Rogue’s leaky cock to align at your entrance. “Fuck me like you mean it, Rogue.”
At your request Rogue bullies his cock in your cunt. As you whimper, he lets out a guttural groan of satisfaction. The feeling of your tight hole finally clamping around him made Rogue want to cum on the spot. Did you always feel this good?
"Ahh f-fuck..." Rogue stammers. His mind slips into a haze of lust, and his body moves on its own, rutting into you rough and fast in desperate search for his release. He hikes your leg up higher around his waist to fuck into your deeper. You gasp at the feeling, the uncomfortable arch in your back made your toes curl and stars dot your eyes.
"T-there! A-again!" You beg, wrapping your arms around Rogue's shoulders to hold him close. "I-I-m close-" Capturing your lips again, Rogue sucked hard on them in order to bruise. With his free hand, he jabbed his thumb against your clit, proving additional stimulation.
You squealed as you came, biting down on Rogue's tongue. The action made him growl. You clit pulsated, feeling like it was still vibrating. Tingles raced through veins, rocking your entire body.
"F-fuck, I'm close!" Rogue pants. Low grunts and moans left his lips. The feeling of You tightening around his dick even more was enough to send him over the edge.
He comes with a low groan. His body rocks and he presses you against the wall, biting into the crook of your neck. You squirm feeling him release into your heat. From the days of pent up frustration, Rogue cums hard and a lot. So much that you feel it trickle down your leg, making you shiver.
There's silence between the two of your for a few moments as you both recover from your orgasms.
“How long have you been hiding it from me?” You gently brush the wet hair out of Rogue's face. His cheeks flush red in embarrassment, which he tries to hide by burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"About four days..." he mumbles shyly.
"You don't need to keep things like this away from me, love. I'm yours as much as you are mine." The gentle kiss you place on his forehead, though endearing, instantly makes him hard again; his body betrays him as his stiff cock aches for your touch once more . You could only giggle at Rogue's embarrassed whine. "Go ahead. I'm all yours."
Gajeel - 「Iron Heart」
Gajeel is another major tease. Your bratty behavior only turns him on and enacts a predatory desire within him. He doesn't particularly care who hears his dirty words in response to any attitude you give him and quite honestly, takes it as a challenge. In fact, it turns him on the way you become instantly shy and bashful when he threatens to "punish your little ass" in public.
"You're so vulgar," you huff angrily. "I can't stand you."
"Gihi," Gajeel merely laughs, following behind into your shared room.
"you have no sense of shame! I won't be able to look at Lucy or Cana the same again."
Gajeel grins. He thinks it's cute how you put on the tough act despite how much he towers over you. "I don't really give a damn. The whole world can know how good I fuck your pussy for all I care."
Your cheeks flush red, the heat burning more as he corners you to the bed. "Y-you asshole!"
"Yeah?" Gajeel groans. You’re appalled when he palms himself through his pants, a noticeable tent forming at his crotch. Was he seriously turned on right now?! "What else?" Gajeel taunts.
"Y-you y-you-" You stammer over your words as Gajeel pins you to the bed.
"What? Where's that attitude of yours now?" Gajeel's devious smile only grows wider at the way you squirm against his hold. "Since you like running your mouth so damn much, why don't you put it to use. On your knees."
Your body obeys before your mind could register. Gajeel sits on the bed while you drop down to your knees before him. After you unbuckle his belt and release his stiff cock from the confines of his boxers, a relieved groan left Gajeel's lips. He was a lot bigger and had a lot more girth than you anticipated. Did your insults really turn him on that much?
"A-ah! Don't tease me, doll," Gejeel moaned. He threw his head back as Your warm mouth fully enveloped the head of his dick. Another moan left his lips as you began harshly sucking on him. You forced yourself to deep throat him. Whatever you couldn't fit, you used your hand to stroke him. Gajeel bucked his hips up, nearly making You gag on him and tears prickle in your eyes. You continued to slurp and grace every inch of his cock with your tongue. The sensations made his mind go blank.
"F-fuck! You suck me so good." Gajeel grabbed You by the hair and pulled you away from him much to your confusion. He then stood from the bed in front of you, holding your head. His dick throbbed, precum oozing from the tip. His release was so close, he could feel it from the way lust hazed his thoughts. "Open up. Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours," Gajeel said.
You gladly did. He shoved his entire length in your mouth, making you gag. His grip on your hair tightened as he let out a shaky moan. He pulled back before forcing himself back in again and again. You couldn't breath. Drool dribbled down your face as you damn near choked. Seeing your lewd expression only turned Gajeel on more.
"You like that doll?" He panted. "You like choking on my fat cock don't you? That pretty little mouth of yours feels so good around me. I could cum on the spot." You only whined in response. Your hands gripped Gajeel's thighs as you tried to steady yourself and get used to his rough pace. "You like when I fuck that mouth of yours, don't you? You're such a good girl. Taking all of me like that."
His cheeks flushed red. The pressure of his release finally snapped. "Ugh fuck! I'm coming!"
Gajeel quickly halted his movements. He practically had a death hold on Your hair, emptying into your mouth. He came a lot and suddenly. You coughed, spitting some of the salty seed out once it unexpectedly hit the back of your throat.
You tried to regain your breath after being practically forced to choke on his length. But the sight of you sitting in front of him with his cum all over you was enough to make Gajeel hard again.
"Strip," he commanded. "I'm not done with you yet doll."
You quickly shed your clothing and undergarments, leaving you completely exposed before the male. Gajeel licked his lips hungrily, eyeing you up and down. His stare made you bashful, but to the dark haired man, you were the most gorgeous thing he'd ever laid eyes on.
"Absolutely beautiful," Gajeel mumbled, pressing his lips against Yours. You eagerly let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands groped your breast. You moaned meekly and rubbed your thighs together.
"Gajeel...please..." You whined. The dragon slayer let out a little chuckle.
"So impatient doll~" Lifting you up with ease, Gajeel carried and gently laid you back on the bed without breaking the next kiss. He cupped your cheeks while biting your lip teasingly. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't even remember your own name."
With that, Gajeel rammed his cock into Your wet core. You cried out in pain at the sudden penetration. You held on to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your nails dug into his back leaving red marks.
"F-fuck!" He put one hand on the headboard trying to steady himself. "Ahh you're so tight doll," Gajeel groaned, giving his hips an experimental roll. The way you clenched around his cock nearly made him cum on the spot. He captured your lips again before pulling out and hitting again. His pace soon quickened and the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure.
"Ah fuck doll, you take my cock so well!" Gajeel panted. Sweat covered both your bodies as the sound of skin slapping against each other filled the room. "You like it when I fuck you senseless, don't you? You're clenching around me so tight I could just explode."
"G-Gajeel! Please!" You moaned out. Gajeel grabbed both of you legs and placed them over his shoulders. The new angle hit harder and deeper. You cried out, begging for more.
"Such a greedy girl aren't you? You like it when I'm this deep in you?" Gajeel grunted. "No one else can make you feel this way. Got it?" When you couldn't form any words to respond, Gajeel slapped your thigh making your squeal. "I said you got that? Who can fuck you this good?"
"Y-you-" Y/n gasped.
Gajeel grabbed your hair, pulling harshly. "I don't think I heard you properly, doll. Who can make you feel this good?"
"You Gajeel!" You yelled. He smirked letting out a chuckle.
"Damn right." His orgasm quickly approached. His pace faltered just a bit, making his thrusts more sloppy. His low grunts turned into loud moans. "Ah, fuck I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come so deep you're going to be dripping with my seed."
A loud moan left his lips. His hips stilled and his release hit; he bites down on to your shoulder, drawing blood. You shivered feeling yourself be filled. After he was sure he finished, Gajeel pulled out and sat back on his heels. He stared down at you with a satisfied look on his face as some of his seed leaked from your swollen sex.
Gajeel then flips you over, hiking your ass up to the height he wants.
“W-wait-Gajeel-“
"Gihi We're not done. By the end of the night, everyone will know who you belong to."
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heich0e · 4 months
Text
"can i call you later?"
the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.
"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"
rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.
you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.
rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.
"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"
your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.
"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.
you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.
"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.
you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.
"my train is coming," you say.
he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.
you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.
"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.
you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.
you call back to him just before you step into the station.
"rintarou—"
there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.
you smile.
"—call me later."
he calls you almost every night after that.
even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.
even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.
even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.
you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.
"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially—flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.
"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.
"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"
rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.
"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."
you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.
you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.
"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."
you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"
rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.
"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."
you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.
"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.
you fell in love through those phone calls.
you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.
you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.
he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.
"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.
you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.
in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.
"oop—hello?"
you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.
the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.
"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.
you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.
"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)
"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.
"i know," he replies.
it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.
you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.
"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"
you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.
he tilts his head.
"—wanna join me?"
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luveline · 5 months
Text
kbd —Steve helps an emotional you downstairs to sate some late night cravings. pregnant!reader, 1.3k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Steve stirs at the top of the bed to the sound of pinging springs. He rubs his eye, feels sleep free itself from his lashes as he pushes onto an elbow. 
“Honey?” he asks. 
You turn to him with a frown. “Sorry.” 
Steve doesn’t want you to be sorry, he was just figuring out which of his best girls it was moving around. He forces himself to sit up and turn on the lamp, unveiling the sight of you at the end of the bed in your maternity pyjamas, flowy blue fabric with white polka dots you’d bought to match Beth’s. 
“You need help?” he asks. 
You sound like you’re having a hard time breathing. “I’m trying to put my socks on.” 
“Yeah? You wanna go downstairs?” 
You always put your socks on before you go downstairs at night or in the early morning. The floors get cold no matter what you and he try to do to prevent it. He promises one day you’ll have enough money for heated floors. He’s not sure where he thinks that money is coming from. 
“I’m gonna go have some ice cream.” 
Your night time cravings lately are unstoppable. Steve pushes the sheets back and round the bed to the end, giving your face a short touch, and then getting down on his knees in front of you with his hands held out for your socks. He’d offer to go get it for you, but you’ll say no, he’s too tired. The only loophole he’s found for this is coming with you. 
You give him your socks and a sorry smile. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 
“It’s okay. I don’t mind. You know what I say.” 
“Can’t sleep without me.” 
He bunches your sock up and rolls it over your toes and up past your heel, your ankle. He does it gently like he’s rolling them onto one of the kids’ feet, he can’t really help himself. He likes being gentle with you. You can’t see your toes, so you might as well have him be kind to them. 
“Can’t sleep without you,” he agrees, again bunching up the fabric of your sock to roll over your toes and heel. 
He tugs it up straight on your calf and leaves his hand there for a selfish squeeze. “There, now you’re ready. Want your robe too?” 
You frown suddenly, a familiar twist of your mouth and nose, eyebrows pinching down as your eyes fill with tears. He shakes his head at you before you can talk, his hand moving to your knee for sympathetic rubbing. “Don’t cry.” 
“You’re so nice to me.” 
“I love you,” he says, pushing himself up to stand and hug you. “Please don’t cry, Y/N, it’s just socks. I love putting your socks on for you.” 
“You treat me like a princess,” you say with a sniff. 
“You deserve it,” he promises. He wraps his arms around your head and neck, kissing your forehead with a loving sigh. “You do. Please don’t cry.” 
Once you start you can’t stop. Steve doesn’t mind calming you down, it’s not like it isn’t exactly what he signed up for, but getting upset is never good for the baby or your extremely stressed body. “Please,” he murmurs, “let’s go downstairs, okay?” 
“Okay,” you say, voice thick with tears. 
Steve wraps you in a blanket and ushers you through the master bedroom door. Your pregnancy hormones are as off the charts as they’ve ever been, though last month you’d been quite snappy. This week you’re crying multiple times a day every day. Steve keeps waiting to run out of patience, but he has a good few kids, and you’re not doing anything wrong anyways. So what if you’re crying all the time? He can’t imagine how stressful it is to be that tired and heavy like this, or how many hormones are pumping through you at the moment. He got you pregnant. It’s his job to mitigate the symptoms to the best of his ability. 
You sit down at the table, knowing without asking that he’s going to get your ice cream. He grabs it from the freezer with your favourite spoon (not so big, not so little), and passes you both with a smile. 
“There, honey.” 
Before he met you, Steve wasn’t used to pet names. He’d say baby and babe, he was a player, then heartbroken, and they’d come out weird because he didn’t really mean them, or he didn’t get what they meant in the first place. He calls you honey and he feels at once like the husband he is but it’s more than that. You’re his honey. You deserve to know how much you mean to him with every sentence he says, and there’s no easier way to do that than to pester you with pet names. 
You use them just as much as he does. “Thanks, handsome.” 
“Do you want anything else?” 
Again, your frown, tears in your eyes as you peel the lid off of pint and pick up your spoon. “I’m fine,” you say tearily. 
Steve scoots a chair as close to yours as is physically possible and sits, his hand falling to your knee. He’d squeeze your thigh if it wasn’t impeded by the round hill of your bump, the biggest it’s ever been. From the start of next week onward you can expect to go into labour. Within the month, you’ll have had the baby. 
Steve can’t wait for it, and he’ll bet you can’t wait to be done. He says your name softly, giving the side of your leg a great massage, “Y/N, it’s okay.” 
“I know, I just love you,” you say through a mouthful of ice cream, the spoon still on your lips. 
“I love you too, honey, don’t worry about it.” 
“Do you want some?” 
He knows saying no won’t help. It’s probably four in the morning and he can’t imagine anything less appetising at the late hour, but he says, “Yeah. Just a little bit. I’m watching my figure.” 
You laugh, still full of tears, and scoop up some ice cream to feed him. When he’s had it, he presses forward for a kiss, to your delight. Steve doesn’t mean to brag, but he knows you well. Cheering you up is easy. He steals a second kiss just for him and beams at the reaction it invokes, breathless laughter that doesn’t fade as you scoop up another spoonful of ice cream. 
“How come the baby never wants something we can keep in the bedroom?” Steve asks. 
“She’s like her sisters.” 
“Yes she is,” Steve says, moving in for another squeeze of your leg. “Can’t wait to meet her.” 
You lean your head on his shoulder, ice cream dripping from your spoon. “She can’t wait to meet you, Steve. She’s kicking every time she hears your voice. I think she knows how good you are to me.” You clear your throat. “She can tell you’re the nicest guy ever.” 
He shushes you tenderly. “Come on, honey, no more crying. I’ll have to start being mean to you instead, nobody wants that, I don’t want that.” 
“Please don’t be mean to me.” 
Your hurt voice startles him. “I’m just kidding.” He kisses your temple. “You think I’d do that? I can’t do that to you, babe, I don’t want to.” 
He spends twenty minutes convincing you he was just kidding while you weep into his shoulder. 
Poor girl, he thinks sorrily.
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ericscroptop · 4 months
Text
Smokey And Sweet
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✧ pairing: neighbor! lee jeno x fem! reader
✦ genre: smut
✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of food and eating, mentions of death (no actual people die/have died), smoking from jeno & reader (cigarette), cursing, teasing, car sex, semi-public sex (oops), missionary, big d!ck jeno, fingering, protected sex, slight corruption kink, dirty talk, praising, pet names, some drool & spit, kissing, shy reader when it comes to godly men like lee jeno, slightly bad-boy jeno but more so his aura, reader & jeno are in their early 20s
✦ word count: 11.6k words (i literally couldn’t stop)
✧ synopsis: new boy next door takes an interest in you and decides to take you as a warm welcome into town.
゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+
Winter had said its goodbye weeks ago, and now, it has fully transitioned into Spring.
With Spring having sprung, the environment has come back to life and everything is blooming once again.
You can now enjoy hearing the sweet songs from the birds chirping proudly every day. You can savor the sunshine and natural light for much longer now due to the time being pushed forward an hour. And, the weather isn’t bitterly cold anymore so you could actually go outside having your skin exposed without your body tingling, stinging, and shivering.
Though, there were still downsides to Spring that you loathed— such as torrential downpours, freshly awoken wasps and bumblebees, and random sneezing fits from pollen. But on days like today where the air felt so fresh outside and you frankly had nothing better else to do, the outdoors called to you.
You desired to spend your leisure time this evening outside. Maybe you’d even decide to buy a treat from the ice cream truck that drove past your neighborhood almost daily now that the weather was warmer. You relish in just the thought of enjoying your first ice cream this season from the cute truck. You’d definitely buy one.
With the weather just right, you chose to wear a simple oversized t-shirt and your pair of frilly-ruffled, black and white polka dot shorts, along with your go-to comfortable footwear. Perfect for lounging out in the breezy and warm weather.
Deciding to sit on the tailgate of your dad’s pickup truck while you wait, you scroll mindlessly through your phone with your wallet by your side.
Although your face was trained on your phone instead of enjoying the outdoors peacefully, at least you were outside instead of cooped up in indoors.
In the midst of the sounds of nature, from wind blowing the trees to birds singing, you hear the sound of your neighbors’s door swing open. Though, you refrain yourself from allowing your eyes to follow the sound, trying to ignore their presence even though curiosity fills you.
This past week, a new family had moved into the house next to yours. It had been vacant and up for sale for awhile, as the previous owners decided to relocate elsewhere.
You’ve seen the movers and had your fair share of brief glimpses towards the house, but you tried your best to ignore and avoid them.
Although your whole life your neighbors have been unproblematic and greet your parents every-so-often, you weren’t someone who enjoyed small talk and acted ‘neighborly.’ You lived in your own bubble, and were too shy in even sparing a greeting to your neighbors.
That may seem a bit bitchy, but you just felt awkward and never really knew what to say. It felt easier just minding your own business.
You probably should work on your social skills. Maybe then you’d actually have something to do instead of sitting alone outside like a loser waiting for some ice cream— at your grown age.
With your attention directed towards your phone, you don’t notice that it is a boy that comes out of the door.
Said boy walks out of his house and lets out a deep sigh with both hands on his hips as he stands on his porch.
Honestly, Jeno didn’t really know how to feel about the move. His parents had decided to move out of the big city he’s known and loved his entire life, and ditch it for this unknown-small town he has to call home now.
While he’s in his early twenties and fully capable of living on his own as an adult, he just graduated college and rent was fucking expensive these days. For the time being, it was easier to move and live with his parents until he found a job and could start saving for his own place.
There was nothing wrong with adults living with their parents, anyways. There were upsides and downsides to it— as there were with practically anything. But it’s what will work for now.
It just sucks that he had to leave everything he’s ever known behind and start over. But life’s all about growing and new adventures— at least, that’s what the older adults say. He just has to learn to adapt to his new environment and embrace change.
He’s been unpacking boxes and organizing his new room all day. It was now around 6pm, and he’d been in the house all day doing labor and cleaning. After being stuck indoors all day, he figured it was time for a break to go for a short drive or maybe get food someplace.
As he stepped out his front door and stood on the porch, he looked towards his left and noticed your figure.
A girl, he thought. He hadn’t really gotten a chance to even notice any of his neighbors or surroundings fully, as he was too immersed in helping his parents settle into their new home and couldn’t keep his attention on anything outside of moving in.
From his porch he could see your figure swaying your head faintly from side to side, legs swinging back and forth in the air over the cracked concrete of your driveway. You were in your own world, phone in hand and sat by your lonesome self.
How cute, he thinks. He probably looks like a freak just staring at your form, but he glances around the street fleetingly and it doesn’t seem like anyone else is out right now. You don’t seem to notice his presence watching you— or at least, maybe you’re pretending you don’t.
You peak his interest suddenly. He wonders what you’re like and from this distance, he can see that you’re definitely an adult like him. Maybe you’re around his age. He could use a friend or at least, know someone in this foreign town.
He gives himself an internal pep-talk of confidence to walk up to you. You’d start seeing each other almost daily now that you’re neighbors, and he doesn’t think he can stay unacquainted with you. So he strides his way towards your house to introduce himself like a gentleman.
While engrossed in whatever nonsense you’re watching on your phone, you begin to detect movement from your peripheral, as well as hear shoes scraping against the concrete.
Your eyes slightly widen at that, sensing a complete stranger coming towards your direction. It wasn’t everyday someone decided to approach you suddenly. Your body stilled and you found strength to raise your head, locking eyes with what seems to be a handsome man.
He brings a hand up and waves, continuing walking up to you until he’s like only 6 feet away.
“Hey— sorry to bother you, but I came to introduce myself. I’m Jeno. I just moved in next door.” he shoots you a smile.
“Oh— hey! Yeah, it’s nice to meet you.” you awkwardly get up to stand on your feet and extend an arm out.
“I’m Y/n. Welcome to the neighborhood!” you put on your best smile as he takes your hand to shake it firmly, practically blacking out mentally as you cannot believe this is a real scene playing out.
You’re left utterly dumbfounded once you took a good gander at this guy.
There was a contrast to him. His skin was pretty much bright and his beauty could light up darkness and draw irresistible attention to him, but he was also kind of shadowy in a way. Although he greeted you with a smile that reached his eyes, he seemed to have this intimidating presence to him.
Maybe you’re just saying that because anyone who’s attractive to you intimidates the fuck out of you. But he seems to ooze natural confidence and appeal. His features were sharp, and he just had this indescribable aura to him that made you weak. You couldn’t pin point what it was.
It didn’t help that he was cool enough to rock an undercut, seeing it peeking through slightly from his right side of face. Not to mention, you couldn’t help but shift your eyes down for a second to look at his almost-exposed chest, first few buttons of his dark flannel left undone.
His dark eyes, dark hair, and dark shirt contrast with his light blue baggy jeans and kind smile, making your skin heat up from his presence, even in the midst of a breeze passing through.
But anyways— your new neighbor is a hot man that decided to come over and greet you. If that’s not a moment in history, then you don’t know what is.
The smile on his face doesn’t falter one bit as you greet him back, feeling your smaller, slightly wobbly hand shaking his own, and sees the slight tint of pink coloring your cheeks. Was it from the weather or his abrupt approach? He’s not sure. And neither are you.
“Thanks. I— uh, actually noticed you were sitting out here alone. Figured I’d come introduce myself. Since I’m new to this town, I don’t know anyone.” he admits.
Your lips parted as you attentively listened to his every word, arms crossed. You let out a chuckle as he finishes, “To be honest with you, i’m not really familiar with anyone else in this neighborhood— and i’ve lived on this street my whole life.” you laugh at yourself, shaking your head as you look around at nothing in particular sheepishly.
Your words and quiet laugh only makes his smile bigger. “Yeah? Maybe I could be your first neighbor-friend.” Jeno smirks at you, his hands shifting around in the pockets of his jeans.
The dopamine releasing from your brain causes you to feel giddy and it feels like butterflies are fluttering inside your stomach from excitement and coyness. You’re gushing internally at the fact that God himself has sent you a cute neighbor— one who had the urge to come over and is showing interest in you.
You only know his name and your delusional-self is already mentally planning your future with him.
“I could definitely use a friend.” your smile is genuine as you tell him, showing courtesy to your new neighbor.
You see the smile reach to his eyes again, meeting your gaze before he looks down at his own feet while grinning, making you look away shyly.
God, you felt like a teenager again.
“Do you care if I sit out here with you? I don’t really have anything better to do.” Jeno speaks. He really wants to get to know you and waste no time. You seem very sweet, and like he said, he actually doesn’t have anything better to do. (He still had some unpacking left to do unfortunately, but he needed a damn break.)
You can feel your heart rate increase and a flash of heat hits you at his words, feeling flustered that your peaceful evening has unexpectedly taken a turn.
“Of course! I could use someone to keep me company.” you say, still feeling flushed.
You pushed your rear back onto the truck’s tailgate and Jeno follows suit. He takes a seat next to you, making you hold back a giggle at how the truck lowered for a moment due to the extra weight now added.
“So… you were just out here chilling alone?” he queries with both arms outstretched behind him, leaning back a bit and making himself comfortable.
“I actually came out ‘cause I wanted some ice cream. Now that it’s warmer out again, a truck usually passes by everyday.” you begin to swing your legs like you were earlier as you continued. “I’m grown as hell waiting for the ice cream man by myself. Can you believe that?” you laugh.
Jeno finds your demeanor endearing. How you’re just out here innocently waiting for some ice cream. And the way that you seem like a ball of sunshine. You’re unintentionally stirring his emotions with sudden fondness and attraction towards you.
“Hey, that’s cute. And, now you have company to wait alongside you.” he states, his eyes stuck on you as he spoke.
Your cheeks must’ve been permanently stained pink since he’s made himself known. His natural charm and solely being in the presence of an attractive male has your palms sweaty and senses tingling.
“So why’d you move here?” you attempt to make conversation, trying to push pass the fact that he basically called you cute and is sitting directly next to you.
He inhales some air and huffs it out deeply before speaking. “Parents wanted to settle in a smaller town now that they’re getting older. We lived in the city my whole life, but my parents wanted a change. Plus, my dad runs an auto repair shop, and he had the grand idea of extending his business here, so… yeah.”
“I just graduated college a while ago, too. You’d think that I would have my own place and not be packed up alongside my parents, but i’m trying to figure out what I wanna do. Rent’s too expensive in the city, anyways. I have friends I could’ve moved in with to split rent, but since we all graduated, we all are doing our own things and they have their partners and stuff.” he continued.
“S’ry for rambling. I’m just dumping all this shit on you.” Jeno shakes his head, scoffing at his own rant. The last thing he wants is for you to think he’s looking for pity and seem lame.
“Nooo— it’s okay. I asked you a question and you answered it. Sounds like there’s so much change in your life recently. It would only be natural to feel sour or uncertain about your current life. I know it’s probably not ideal, but I hope you adjust well here.” you offer him an empathetic smile, trying to assure him that his feelings are valid.
Jeno looks at you, intrigued and taken aback by your words. He wasn’t expecting you to respond with something that suddenly made his heart stir.
He isn’t one to get sappy or ever seeks for people to comfort him. He wasn’t even asking for sympathy. You were just kind enough to offer him some touching and uplifting words.
The ends of his lips curl at your tenderness. “Wow… do you always say such nice things to people you barely know?” he decides to tease you.
Your face grows hot, laughing nervously as you speak, “What? I’m just telling you what I think.” you pause for a couple seconds before continuing, “Moving can be mentally and physically taxing. Change is never easy. Especially as a young adult, we’re still trying to figure everything out. So I feel for you.”
“There you go again.” Jeno can’t help but smirk, eyes falling to his own lap, hands clasped together.
“You majored in psychology or something? Your words are naturally comforting.” he chuckles.
You scoff at that. “I’m actually in community college— and undecided.”
He hums at your response, finally learning something about you.
“Well, i’m sure you’d be good in any career field. You sound very mature.”
You pursed your lips to the side, feeling flustered at all these small compliments he’s throwing your way. He’s probably just being nice, but he’s probably thinking the same about yourself towards him. Though, you were a very compassionate person. Your words were earnest.
And his own words carried much weight to your brain, especially because it was coming from a man. A very attractive one, at that.
“I dunno, I was just being real.” you brushed his comment off.
“Nah, you’re definitely a smart girl. Come on now.” Jeno tilts his head at you, staring at you attentively.
He’s wondering what goes on in that pretty little head of yours. He has the urge to figure you out. Jeno isn’t stupid and realizes the effect he has on girls merely from his looks. Call him cocky or whatever, but it’s not a secret that girls easily gravitate towards him.
Though, you’re currently bringing him a different vibe. He’s already gathered that you’re sweeter than a Pop-Tart. And a bit bashful.
Girls are usually so quick to be flirty towards him. Not that he doesn’t like that— he actually loves when girls are bold and quick to get things swinging. But you’re offering him something new, even within the couple of minutes you’ve known each other. He’s definitely interested in you.
You can sense his pair of eyes on you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Your vision lies straight ahead, trying to remain composed after hearing him compliment you as you stare at the house across from yours. How is this man still talking to your ass? You wondered.
You can’t even come up with a response before your ears pick up on that familiar tune of the ice cream truck, sounding closer and closer every second.
“It’s coming,” you lift yourself off the tailgate, wallet in hand as you approach the end of your driveway towards the road.
Jeno follows your lead and trails behind you, joining you as the truck comes to a halt in seeing you both.
He watches as you greet the driver and look over the menu momentarily, eventually deciding on a regular-sized Italian ice— flavor of your choice.
You then turn to look at Jeno, smile taking over your features charmingly.
“Do you want anything?” you ask him.
Jeno secretly does have a big sweet tooth, so he refuses to pass up on a treat of his own. “Yeah, i’ll have the same as her.” he announces and smiles at the worker.
You fiddle with your wallet, scrambling to fish out a couple dollars while your treats are being prepared. Though, it seems like you’re beat to covering for the both of you, eyes looking up to the sight of Jeno handing the worker some cash.
“I got it.” he says like nothing to you, happily paying the man in the truck.
You’re left confounded, not expecting him to even have his wallet on him.
Your mouth is slightly parted at his sudden act, ponderously putting your money back in your wallet. You can’t even protest as the transaction was already made.
Jeno hands you your treat with a spoon and grabs his own, both of you thanking the driver and walking back to your dad’s tailgate as the ice cream truck drives away, music now growing distant.
“I was gonna pay for us, y’know?” you say as you sit back down, Jeno doing the same.
“It was only a couple bucks. Plus, i’d never let a girl pay.”
You look down at your Italian ice in hand, poking at it with your spoon in other hand.
“Yeah, but we just met. You’re the new neighbor, shouldn’t I be the one treating you?”
“Your company is more than enough.” he simply replies before bringing his spoon to his mouth, head turned in your direction.
His words make your heart begin to thud erratically in your chest, heat rising all-throughout your body, and you’re left tongue-tied.
You’re still twiddling with your semi-frozen treat, mind and body fuzzy. You’re focused on his comment, the fact that he paid, and the innocent moment of you two enjoying ice cream next to each other here— outside your house.
You feel like you’re squirming on the inside, not knowing what to do with Jeno’s kind presence. He’s your neighbor now. How are you supposed to live now that you have an incredibly beautiful and charming man living next door to you?
“You like playing with your food before you eat?”
“Huh? Oh— my bad.” Jeno rips you away from your ruffled thoughts about him, now feeling embarrassed at how your head is already spinning and going dumb from someone you just met.
A nervous chuckle leaves your throat, finally digging for your first bite while Jeno was on his nth spoonful. You pop the spoon filled with ice cream into your mouth, tastebuds absorbing the deliciously creamy and smooth consistency.
“How is it?” he asks, eyeing you as you enjoy your first taste.
“It’s so sweet. Really good.”
“Definitely.” Jeno says, nodding his head in agreement. Though, he’s not sure if he’s referring to the ice cream or you.
You guys finished up your treats and talked about various topics, slowly getting to know each other better. You even started to loosen up a bit more, feeling just a tiny bit more comfortable the more you two conversed.
“You know, I’m a real huge car guy.”
“Really? I’m honestly not surprised.”
“Why?”
“‘Cause it seems like every guy these days is a ‘car guy.’” you sneered.
He scoffs after listening to you. “Well, since my dad’s a mechanic, he’s taught me almost everything I need to know about cars. It’s practically in my veins.”
“Trust me, I am practically infatuated with cars. I used to dream of becoming a F1 driver.” he clicks his tongue.
“Woah, what?! So with cars, do you like the mechanics of it all, or do you really just like showing off how fast you can go?” you cock your head at him, asking curiously with a hint of tease in saying the latter.
“Both. I like working hands-on with cars and having the knowledge to perform car maintenance. It also feels personal cause’ since my dad’s a mechanic, he passed down his love for cars to me.”
“I also love the control I can have while driving. It can be exhilarating when you’re going hella fast. Especially when your car’s all nicely polished and sleek— it’s the best.”
“Damn. You really are passionate, huh? That’s actually really dope.”
“I am.” he smirks, amused that you’re interested in hearing about his interests. Like, you actually are having a conversation with him and are seriously listening to him.
Meanwhile, it’s such a breath of fresh air for you to listen to him speak about his passions and have personality to him. He wasn’t dry or giving you half-assed anything— and he was respectful, making you swoon and happy to have met someone like him.
The sun was beginning to set as you two got loss in conversation, the sky painted in a warm hue.
“Let me go throw these away.” you gather your now-empty foam cups and plastic spoons, grabbing them and getting up to throw them in your trash bin.
“Thanks.” Jeno gets up shortly after you do, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I should be the one thanking you— for the ice cream.” you now stand in front of him, arms crossed behind your back with a hand resting over your wrist.
“It was only a couple of bucks, no biggie like I said.” he assures you.
You smile, the apples of your cheeks more prominent as you can’t hold back in how wide it becomes due to his kindness. You stand meekly, figuring that this is the part where you bid one another goodbye and go inside your separate homes.
Although he literally lives next to you and you’d be seeing him frequently, you don’t want your time together to end just yet. He’s pulling you in like a magnet. You’ve felt lonely lately, and Jeno’s company was the best unexpected gift you could ever ask for.
And it seems like he’s thinking the same.
“Hey— I was thinking now would be a perfect time to drive around for a bit. I’ve been stuck at home all day and could go out for a bit. Would you like to come with?”
Your brows lift slightly, caught off guard by his invite. You didn’t expect to spend your evening with a man outside your house, and now, said man is asking you out for a drive.
“Only if you want to, of course. It’s totally fine if you don’t want to or—“
“No!— let’s do it.” you interrupt him, rather eagerly. You stare at him with a twinkle inside your eyes, mirroring Jeno’s own, eyes dreamy as he looks at your figure.
You might be some trouble for him, and you’re definitely feeling the same about him. The magnetism between you two is strong. Each of you look at one another in admiration and thoughts about anything else are practically nonexistent. It was purely curious attraction. Like a moth to a flame.
You’re honestly not sure if it’s the smartest idea to be getting in a vehicle with a guy you haven’t even known for 24 hours. You know your parents would literally be up your ass if they knew, and the anxious side of you is lowkey freaking out internally, already playing out multiple scenarios.
But you oddly trust Jeno. He seems to find solace in your presence. You each agreed that you were friends now. You hardly got out of the house anyways— you definitely needed this. And you’re an adult, so who cares?
“Alirghty then, are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, i’m good to go.”
With that, Jeno leads the way into his new property. His left hand digs into his left pocket and pulls out a pair of keys, walking to the driver’s side of what seems to be his car.
The sight of his car definitely confirms that he’s a serious car guy. You’re not too familiar yourself on the technical terms or remember model names, but his car is black, windows were tinted, and it’s glossy. It looked almost brand new, smooth and sexy— dare you say. It suits him well.
He unlocks his car and lets you know you’re able to get in, and so you open the passenger door and seat yourself inside.
A subtle musky fragrance fills your nostrils immediately as you settle in. The interior of his car smells clean and fresh, mellow undertones within the scent. Not strong, but pleasant and fitting.
Jeno also settles in his vehicle, starting up the engine as you each put on your seatbelts.
“Don’t worry. I know I said I like going fast, but I follow the law. It’ll be a nice drive.” Jeno suddenly says, looking over his shoulder as his right hand takes hold of the gear shift. He puts the car in reverse, using his left hand to steer the wheel.
You sit idly as he cranes his neck slightly to look behind, making sure the street is clear as he makes exit from his driveway. He smoothly reverses, and begins to drive down the street.
Your hands are folded in your lap, and you begin to play with them out of suspense from what is to come during this drive with Jeno.
You’re fortunate that your parents are out of town right now, so they don’t really have to question your whereabouts.
Though, you’re thinking about how you’re alone in the car with a guy you just met. It had been so long since you hung out with a male like this. You couldn’t help but already feel some type of way towards Jeno. Your senses heightened within his presence. Maybe it’s because you still don’t really know too much about him, but you also think it’s because his attractiveness daunts you.
Perhaps you’re already developing a crush.
“Got anywhere in particular you wanna go? I don’t really mind; I’ll let you take the reins.” he halts his car at a stop sign, then turns to smile at you.
“Honestly, there’s really not much to do in this town. People usually go goof around the grocery stores for entertainment. That’s how dry it is here.” you tittered.
“Though, there’s a school a few blocks away from our street that I walk to occasionally when I want to clear my mind, and I usually just roam leisurely around there. Since it’s practically right next to a nice neighborhood, lots of people go on walks or bike rides around, and kids play after school hours.” you internally facepalm yourself once you finish talking. He probably is gonna think you’re so lame and that you clearly don’t go out much. A school? Really?
“We can go there. Sounds chill to me, if that’s okay with you?”
“Yeah! I’m good with that.” you’re relieved to see that he seems on board with your idea. He seemed to be pretty laidback and easygoing, leaving you feeling safe.
You direct him to the location, and he notices that there’s no music currently playing.
“Wanna connect your phone to play some music?”
“Oh no, that’s okay. You can play whatever.” you kindly smile.
“I listen to the same songs practically everyday. It’s getting old. How about you put on something, I could use something new.”
You feel a bit shy in sharing your music taste, but you see that he won’t take no for an answer. You give in and he helps you in connecting to the Bluetooth. A R&B playlist is what you settle for, as most of the songs in your curated playlist were comforting, catchy, and relaxing.
As the music’s going, you feel flushed and can’t reject the smile that creeps on your face as a favorite song of yours comes on. You notice from your peripheral Jeno nodding his head to the beat of the track, making you fix your attention to simply staring out the window to avoid him seeing how blushed and smiley you are.
After just a few minutes, he pulls into the school grounds, parking in the lot and you two unbuckle your seatbelts. There seems to be hardly anyone here. There’s maybe one or two cars parked, but nobody’s inside. There also aren’t any children on the playground or playing basketball like there normally would be. It seems a bit ghostly out.
With you two now sitting in the car in the practically-empty lot, you begin to wonder maybe this really was a dumb idea of yours.
I mean, what are you guys actually going to do?
With you two in this setting, wouldn’t people expect you two to be doing something shady or sketchy? Especially as the sky’s only growing somber by the minute.
“Do you care if I smoke a cig?” Jeno’s question interrupts your overthinking, making you turn, facing him.
“Go ahead.” you give him the green light to do so. It was his car after all.
Internally, you grimaced at now knowing the fact that he’s a smoker. You weren’t a fan of tobacco or nicotine, but if someone wanted to smoke, who were you to stop them?
Jeno rolls the window down halfway and reaches his hand into his door pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a lighter. He puts the stick in between his mouth, allowing his lips to hold it as he brings the lighter to the end.
He flicks the lighter and the click hits your ears. Your eyes stay hooked on him once you hear it.
Jeno took a few quick breaths to ignite it, and it lit with ease. He sucked and held the smoke in his mouth for a moment, then removed the cigarette from his lips, letting the hot chemicals cool down before releasing a steady stream of smoke into the air towards his lowered window.
He immediately feels the buzz of pleasure from the nicotine rush to his brain. The warm air embraces his lungs like a comforting hug, allowing him to relax after a long day of unpacking.
Meanwhile, you weren’t in favor of cigarettes. You don’t understand the appeal in smoking something that in the end, is probably going to lead you closer to death by shortening your lifespan and bring trouble to your body. The aroma it left was harsh and acrid, and even eye-watering.
Though, even with how strongly you felt about smoking cigarettes, why was Jeno making it seem attractive?
Your attention is captivated on the erotic bittersweetness of the sight next to you. He made it seem so effortless, like it was second nature to him.
He seemed so carefree and rebellious in this moment. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about the consequences. The habit was hazardous, but the youthful, handsome man with strong features smoking in a dark car was glamorous in your perspective.
Jeno has to refrain from grinning as he notices your wonderment. He takes another drag before shooting you a question.
“Have you ever smoked before?”
“Not a cigarette, no.”
He suddenly moves his right hand with cigarette in hold in between you two, towards an empty tray you just now were made aware of. He taps the ash off the cigarette onto the ashtray, and to your surprise, gestures it towards you.
“Wanna try?” his voice husky.
Your mouth falls barely agape, caught off guard by his question.
You have to admit, even though you strayed away from cigarettes due to the long run danger they pose, you can’t help the burning curiosity fueling inside in trying it at least once.
Jeno made it look oddly satisfying, even in the midst of the now tarnished air and molten stench.
One puff wouldn’t kill you.
“Sure.” you reply, eyelids blinking at the stick in between his fingers.
Amusement is written all over Jeno’s face. He had a hunch before you even said anything that you’ve never smoked a cigarette before. You just seemed too sweet for that.
He found it mirthful that you want to try for yourself, and with him. There was something exciting in the fact that he’s about to watch you take your first ever drag. Knowing it was your first, there was a high chance you were going to be appalled by it. But it was going to be fun to watch, almost like he was corrupting your sweetness.
He brings the cigarette towards you and you carefully take it pinched between your thumb and forefinger.
The smoke envelops your nostrils, and you feel clammy all of a sudden with the cigarette in your hold and Jeno focused on you.
You were already overthinking the way you probably looked to him right now, so obviously amateur. And it was going to be humbling when you’re left coughing or can’t do it correctly.
Jeno can practically hear your worrisome thoughts turning, and is quick to kick them to the curb. “You don’t have to do it just because I am.”
“I actually want to try at least once in my life— for the plot, y’know?” you chuckled.
“Okay then. Just know I won’t tease you. Nobody’s first smoke is perfect.” he simply smiles, immediately bringing you support.
You don’t waste anymore time for the cigarette’s sake and wrap your lips around it, hollowing your cheeks as you take a shallow drag.
Your throat instantly feels irritated and on fire, feeling tight with the smoke you’ve just inhaled. All the toxic chemicals blaze your throat and lungs, leaving a bad taste to your mouth and it feels almost-suffocating.
A couple coughs rip from your throat, and you attempt to cover your mouth with your free hand and turn your form slightly towards the right, trying to shield yourself away Jeno from your embarrassing coughing fit.
You each let out a different curse word due to your actions, making the both of you laugh— of which, lowkey makes your throat feel even worse. Jeno quickly reaches over and removes the cigarette from your hold, dumping the ash on the tray and he keeps it between his fingers as he rummages around his car for a possible drink he may have lying around.
Luckily, he finds an unopened water bottle in his backseat. It unfortunately is room temperature and he doesn’t know how long it’s been in his car, but he doesn’t hesitate in opening it and offering it to you, which you gladly take.
“God! I fucking hated that.” you huff out after taking a few sips, now feeling calm. The ashy taste still was lingering in your mouth, making you slightly frown. The scent of the smog was definitely going to cling to your clothes— thankfully, your parents weren’t going to be home tonight to be greeted by it.
“Everyone’s first cigarette is terrible.” he chuckles before taking another drag, looking graceful and natural in doing so.
You can’t help the ping you feel in your heart from how you two now practically shared an indirect kiss, him choosing to continue smoking the cigarette instead of putting it out. You’re starting to feel hazy.
“I don’t think i’ll be smoking that ever again.” you scoff, taking another sip of water before reaching for and screwing the cap back on, placing it on one of his cup holders.
“That’s good, it doesn’t really suit you.” he says before enveloping his lips around the stick again.
Your eyes squint barely as you feel slightly offended from his comment. After blowing out the smoke, he notices your expression, and adds on to his words.
“You’re too sweet for that.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“You’re a pretty girl with frilly polka dot shorts who waits outside for ice cream and has a sweet nature. You just seem like you don’t do bad stuff like that.”
Warmth climbs from your neck up to your cheeks, not being able to maintain eye contact once ‘pretty girl’ rang in your ears. Pretty girl? Fuck, why would he say that.
“Duality exists. People can have multiple sides to them.” you voiced, trying to dismiss his comment from before off your mind.
Jeno nods his head in agreement, “Can’t argue with that.”
“Smoking isn’t good for you, though. You should stay away from it.” he utters, about to take another hit from his cigarette.
An incredulous expression takes over your face. “Well look who’s talking.” you teased, shaking your head slightly.
He pauses at your words, not being able to help the breathy laugh that escapes his throat.
“Indulging in cigarettes is like a hobby to me. It’s too late for me. I’m locked in for life.” he twirls the cigarette around his fingers, then brings it to his lips once again.
“So then should I stay away from you?” you mindlessly say, making you clutch the bottom frills of your shorts for comfort as you await for his response.
Jeno blows out smoke towards the window and turns to you, your fingers playing with the fabric of your shorts. He can’t help how cute you look in his passenger seat. You look so delicate, even in the dark interior of his car, even in the thick of the secondhand smoke air.
He’s torn between wanting to protect you and wanting to tamper with you. He could get a cavity just by looking at you. You were delightful and so new and sweet to him. You can be timid but you’ve been so open to embracing your new neighbor. You were a ball of sunshine, and he was the kind of guy parents hated just based off his looks alone.
Like you had said, there can be multiple sides to everyone. Just because someone seems to appear one way on the outside, or you base their personality off one side they’ve shown you, doesn’t define their entire persona.
Jeno really wants you two to get close together. Call him desperate, but he can already feel growing chemistry between you two. You barely met, but Jeno can’t help how he’s already so drawn to you.
And he intends to get to know every part of you.
Your fingers continue to fidget with your shorts, thighs pressed together, suddenly feeling small and hyper aware of your own existence within his presence.
“I kinda don’t want you too.”
“I already like you too much, think I could use someone like you in my life.”
Your nervous system is a whirlwind currently, the opposite of calm. Blood rushes to your head in hearing his response, ears becoming warm. A tight-lipped grin stretches across your face while averting your eyes from Jeno.
You can’t help the nervous giggle that comes out of you, unable to contain your emotions. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and it’s not just due to the smoke floating around.
Fuck. You don’t even know what to say to that.
He grins at your figure, his words clearly stirring something inside you. You avoid his gaze, pupils suddenly finding your lap more interesting and easier to look at than to meet his own eyes as you feel bashful.
Your fingers run along the goosebumps that now decorate the bit of exposed skin from your thighs, coy and still unable to think of a response. He makes you feel so silly and dumb, falling for his charisma.
Jeno’s eyes fall into your lap, following your small movements. You were visibly fidgety. He couldn’t help in wanting to reach over and place a hand protectively over your thigh. He then wonders what it would be like to hold your hand, or to tuck a stand of your hair behind your ear, or to kiss your lips.
He wants to act on instinct. The attraction and desire he has for you is too much for him to bear with you next to him in his car— in an empty parking lot.
He abruptly rolls up his window and reaches for the water bottle you drank out of from the cup holder, opening it and using a tiny bit of water to carefully add it to the ashtray, to stub his cigarette out properly.
You finally look up towards him because of his movements, watching and locking eyes once he’s finished.
“Y/n…” Jeno begins, head cocked slightly to the side, swallowing before continuing. “Is it too soon to ask if I can kiss you?” he practically whispers.
Your heartbeat feels like it pauses and sinks for a moment when you process his words.
Who would’ve guessed you’d be put in this position today?
Jeno’s eyes carry passion and intensity, awaiting for your permission or any answer. He’s craving for your attention, and he can’t deny the carnal desire within him to make each other feel good right now.
“I’d really love to kiss you.” he mumbles, eyes falling to your lips, head still tipped slightly, like a puppy concentrated on you.
The outside world and any miscellaneous thoughts are drowned out by the intention behind his eyes. The tense air and his admirable stare makes you feel a sense of vulnerability. Your own lips are trembling and heart flutters.
You’re lost from his eagerness and interest in you, caught off guard that he felt some attraction towards you while you’ve been trying to ignore how handsome this man was.
It’s been long since you’ve had any ounce of intimacy with another person. Loneliness has consumed you lately. With Jeno showing up in your life out of the blue, confessing that he wants to kiss you even from the little time you’ve known each other, it makes you feel validated and enchanted.
You peer down at the ashtray and center console, being a barrier between the two of you.
It would be slightly discomforting to kiss him over the compartment. But you really did want to kiss him.
Given the fact that you were parked in a parking lot during the late evening, you wondered in the back of your mind secretly of the possibility of him wanting to fuck you. Honestly, you wouldn’t be opposed to that idea in the slightest. A hot guy like Jeno wanting you was generating intense euphoria in your brain.
You were definitely nervous and timorous but fuck, you wanted him to feed your desires and take you heatedly.
“Would the backseat be more comfortable?” you finally manage to speak, viewing him with doe eyes. You knew what you were implying— a bold move for you but you now know that he wants it, too.
Patience never really was your thing.
Jeno’s lips curl upwards, sending you a knowing-look in response to your comment. He gestures with his head to the backseat, “You wanna?”
You merely swallow and nod your head, eventually letting out a faint ‘yes.’
Excitement charges him up in how fast things turned. He opens his own door first, with you following and opening yours a second after, making your way to the backseat on your respective sides.
Frisson is present within the pit of your stomach as you move to the back. Your body hairs are raised due to the tingling sensation rippling all throughout your skin.
You were excited but apprehensive. You were suddenly taking a leap into a new adventure, which was you about to get fucked by your new neighbor in the backseat— in a school parking lot. It was definitely indecent, but lust persisted.
Your pupils flickered around nervously as you each sat in the back, growing sweaty with every second that passes, wondering how this was going to play out.
Jeno takes note of your body language and immediately speaks up. “Are you okay with this? We don’t have to do anything if you aren’t comfortable.”
“I’m okay, just a bit awkward.” you sigh out with a slight laugh.
He smiles and looks down at the decent amount of empty space in between you two.
“C’mere.” he says, signaling towards his lap.
You take a breath as you slip out of your shoes and move closer to him. Jeno stretches his arms out, pulling your weight to seat you on his lap. Your legs wrap around his waist, and your body stills, in disbelief that you’ve found yourself in this foreign position.
Although patience wasn’t your thing, this situation was unfamiliar to you. About to get fucked by someone you barely met was crazy for you. You craved him, but you were also scared something was going to go wrong, whether it was from you or him.
Jeno’s left hand rests on the small of your back, drawing circles with his thumb over the fabric of your t-shirt. His other hand slowly reaches towards the apple of your cheek, rubbing it carefully with the pad of his thumb.
Your tummy flutters wildly from his small touches and the desire emanating from his eyes as he scans you.
“Relax for me, pretty.”
“Can you touch me, hm?”
You don’t verbally respond. You pupils go back and forth between his face and neck as you hook your arms around the thick skin. Your lips parted in being careful with your movements, still in disbelief of this current moment. He called you pretty again.
He smiles at the feeling of your arms around him, and lowers his thumb down your face until it reached your lips, playing with your bottom lip, eyes hooked to something so inviting.
Your own eyes seek his lips, watching the tip of his tongue slip out to give his own a lick, making you force to resist in shifting in his lap out of anticipation or letting out a whimper.
He’s the one to rip the tension by seizing a kiss from you. He gently pulls your face in, and as his lips meet yours, your only focus was on the heat that ignited within you.
The kiss was warm and smokey. It was intense with the way his lips moved jointly with yours.
While you didn’t care for nicotine, the taste of Jeno’s lips was a drug you could see yourself becoming addicted to.
As more seconds pass, the kissing becomes increasingly passionate. You’re practically melting, and it intensifies even more with his scintillating touches.
He protectively keeps a hand around your back, keeping you in place and subtly pushing you in closer towards him. HIs other hand holds your jaw, keeping your face slightly angled and steady.
You can’t help but rub down your clothed crotch against his own, surprising you when your movement draws a deep moan from Jeno, making you quietly gasp.
“Fuck.” he breathes out before he meshes his moist tongue into your hot mouth, making you produce a moan in feeling the wet muscle explore your sensitive erogenous zone.
Your eyes are clenched shut and fingers suddenly find themselves messily fiddling through Jeno’s locks, mind and body lost in the rush of how you’re locked by his lips.
There’s a growing hardness felt through the lightweight material of your shorts. It’s a signal that he wants more, each of your endorphins going nuts by merely making out.
He pulls away from your swollen lips, breathless, hushed gasps filling one another’s ears. Jeno then maneuvers a hand to cradle the back of your head, and brings his face towards your left ear, simultaneously beginning to play with the hem of your shirt.
“Let me take care of you.” his breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, sending a chill down your spine.
His hands redirect to either side of your waist, feeling you up as he brings his face back and scans your face, awaiting for a verbal response.
“Please.” you whisper, warmth spreading across your skin.
“Please what?” he teases.
“Please undress me. Touch me— my body and pussy. Want you to.” you slip out, swallowing your pride. It was a bit embarrassing to say such things aloud in front of your new neighbor, but fuck it. He wanted you equally as bad.
Fully blushed and flushed out, your eyes fall down to stare blankly at his chest. Jeno is filled with amusement though, and hums in satisfaction at your words.
He smoothly reaches for your jaw and tilts it up so that you’re looking at him properly, bringing a buzz to your pussy from his dominance.
“You’re gonna be so good to me, sweet girl.” he says, caressing your face like you’re made of glass.
He brings you in for a couple more deep kisses, savoring how perfect your lips felt and tasted against his own.
He then confirms again with a nod if you’re okay to proceed further, to which you nod back, allowing him to remove your shirt. He also helps you shimmy out of those cutesy shorts of yours, tossing the clothes somewhere up front.
Although you still have your undergarments on and you agreed to do this, you feel so exposed and vulnerable now. Jeno was still fully clothed while he began to fiddle with your bra strap, which made this feel unfair.
“Let me take off your shirt.” you whined and batted your lashes at Jeno, causing him to halt his attempt in wanting to remove your bra next.
He can’t help but smile as you grab onto his flannel shirt, waiting for him to give you the signal to remove it. You were so fucking cute.
“My bad, pretty. I’m all yours.” he kissed your cheek before allowing you to do so, which made you burn inside with all kinds of sensual emotions.
He watched you in awe as you shakily started to undo all his buttons, entertained in seeing the curiosity behind your eyes of unveiling what lies beneath the fabric.
With his shirt now open, he fully removed it himself by pulling off the sleeves and threw it in the growing pile up front, leaving his entire torso bare.
Now uncovered, you can’t help the admiration beholding your eyes as you view his exposed skin.
It shouldn’t have been such a shocker that a handsome face like his had the perfect body to match: hard chest, sculpted abs, and lean waist that contrasted from his broad shoulders.
You really lucked out.
“Like what you see?” Jeno can’t help but snicker, aware that he had this effect on people. You just boosted his ego even more.
You can’t help but giggle at the cliche line, eyes timidly flying away from his torso. Unfortunately he doesn’t get a verbal response from you, but he knows how you feel inside.
“For the record… I definitely like what I see.” he traces the edges of your body, appreciating your skin and details.
Your eyes redirect to his face, watching him eye you hungrily, his fingers beginning to delicately feather over the lace detailing of your bra. Your breathing slows, air tense with you seated over him and his vision glued heartily on you.
His eyes find yours with his fingers still over your bra. You pump your chest out a bit, gesturing to him that you want things to proceed and to remove the rest of your garments.
He immediately leads his hands to your back, unhooking your lacy bra. Your mounds spill out as he removes it and tosses it to the side, the sight making his cock so pumped, full of blood.
“Beautiful girl.” he mumbles, then latches his mouth onto the underside of your ear, making you angle your face to give him better access.
The open-mouth kisses he leaves activates the nerves around your neck. It tickles for a second, but he hits that sweet spot of yours, making you melt.
You’d give into any demand of his with the way his warm lips suck and nibble over your delicate skin. You grind down into him, arms hooked around his neck, clutching for security or else you’d probably melt away.
Your sex only covered by thin panties rutting against his cock straining through his jeans has him groaning into your neck. He zealously continues to suck on your neck, adding gentle bites and hot licks in between, making you arch your neck to the front and moan out of pure bliss. You secretly hope he’d leave a mark or two, so you’d have a visual reminder of this heated night for a few days.
His kisses meander to your throat and chest, tongue sliding out to trace all around one of your areolas, lips then enfolding over the nipple.
Squeals of delight reign free from your throat at Jeno’s foreplay, continuing while he engulfs and sucks both your firm nipples.
“You sound so pretty for me, girly.” he rasps out, dragging his lips over your fleshy, supple breasts.
The nickname sends lightning straight to your core, making you whimper in neediness.
Jeno ends the fun with enjoying your tits to start the pleasure awaiting for him from your cunt.
His left hand holds you while his right hand travels down your tummy, until it reaches the bit of skin below your navel.
There’s a dark appetite visible in his orbs. He looks at you for any sign of uneasiness while his hand goes down. Your breath only hitches, pussy tingling with a quiet gasp from your mouth once his fingers rubbed down to your panty-covered cunt.
It’s so damp and warm down here, he thinks to himself.
“So horny, aren’t we now?”
The way he talks to you alone makes you ignite within.
He decides to pull your underwear to the side, his fingers now coming in full, bare contact with the outside of your pussy.
You’re practically holding your breath at this point, waiting for him to play with you, anticipating the feeling.
“Me too.” he utters, answering his own rhetorical question before he starts running his fingers slowly around your clit.
His touch on your swelling bud causes another hushed gasp to come from you. He’s beyond pleased by listening to all the noises your voice produces due to his sultry touches.
His finger tips slid over your clit and then inched down, feeling the outside of your sex and letting you grow accustomed to his touch.
He ends up sliding one finger up your hole, leaving your mouth ajar and body to quiver from him inserting it in.
Jeno’s tongue licks around his teeth while he fingers you, your walls so tight around his finger.
“Relax for me, hm?” he leans in to kiss you, easing your body to the feeling.
His lips continuously colliding with your own makes you lost for a moment, body fuzzy and loosened up until he decides to squeeze in another finger.
The jolt of pressure wrenched a moan out of you, making Jeno draw back to bite his lip and laugh quietly. It was such a turn on for him to listen and see the beautiful noises and faces you make— and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.
He was prepping your pussy for his own length, already salivating in thinking of you taking him whole.
His long, thick fingers curl into a ‘hook’ motion, causing your legs to shake in lust and a shiver runs inside your core that tingled.
“Mhmmm…” you mewled, starting to subconsciously grind and meet the movements of his fingers toying with your moist and velvety sex.
Watching your responses to his movements feels so good to Jeno. He can feel you start to clamp around his digits, making his own mouth open and turn into a smirk. His cock is painfully hard, begging to be free and feel that clamping sensation that his own fingers do. He really hates to rip you from nearing your climax, but he’d rather you both cum together, your body underneath his.
With that, he halts his movements and removes his fingers. A broken whine rips from your throat at the feeling of him leaving your needy cunt. You could practically cry. Desperation clouded over you.
Jeno quickly quiets you down with now inserting those sticky fingers of his inside your mouth, causing you to hum around his digits, eyes wide and then closed shut.
The fullness and heaviness from his fingers and your own essence weighing over your tongue has your pussy clenching over nothing. You eagerly suck your wetness from his fingers, not bothered that he was just in you. This was all so racy.
“Such a good girl for me— fuck.” he groans, watching you suck his fingers in, your teeth faintly raking over them, cock twitching at how dirty this sweet girl was.
“Gonna make you cum from my cock, don’t worry.”
He removes his fingers from your mouth, pulling you off his lap, motioning you to lay back down.
Your heart rate picks up as you carefully lie over his backseat. He traces the delicate curves of your hips and finds his way to the band of your underwear, you each sharing a nod of consent for him to remove them.
He tugs them down and off, tossing them and he gets you to pull your knees up, allowing more room for Jeno within this limited space.
He mentally whistles at the sight of your princess parts and the position you’re in, waiting for him to take you in the back of his car.
He doesn’t waste anymore time and hastily gets rid of his confining jeans and briefs, his cock immediately standing proudly once his underwear is pulled off.
The sight of his big and thick, towering manhood has your breath stuck in your throat.
While he moves and reaches over to dig for a condom in his glove compartment, your palms become sweaty in the thought of him squeezing his length inside you.
He looked absolutely delicious, but you weren’t sure if you could handle someone as big as him.
Jeno finds a condom, ripping the plastic open with his teeth and flings the wrapper out of sight. He stretches the rubber over his length, precum already leaking from his tip.
As he inches towards you, you can’t help but voice your concern.
“Will it fit? you shakily breathed.
Jeno can’t help but tilt his head, staring at you intently. His lips can’t help but curl, offering you a reassuring smile.
His lips suddenly find themselves over your knees, pressing a gentle kiss over both of them, making your heart pump with fondness.
“We will make it fit.”
“Let me know if it hurts, okay? Don’t want you in pain, pretty.”
“Okay.” is all you say, still sweaty, but ready for him to enter you, core aching to be touched again.
He massages the inside of your thighs with care, trying to ease you up some more. He grabs his length and rubs it along your folds— especially dragging the tip past your clit, making you moan at the sensation.
He finally takes it upon him to prudently push his cock into your entrance, his mouth open while he starts to stretch you out.
Your legs immediately hook around him and rest on his lower back, meanwhile your arms decide to cling onto his beefy biceps for support. You cry out a moan from the pressure.
“It’s okay, girly, I got you.”
“You’re safe with me. Gonna take care of you.” Jeno’s breath fans over your face before he captures your lips with his. His hips slowly begin to roll as you kissed him back with enthusiasm, a burst of adrenaline racing through your bloodstream.
Your walls practically swallowed him, cock fitting so snug inside you. His left hand brushed into your hair, running his fingers loosely around your locks, making you relax from his touch.
“God! You— you’re so big.” you blatantly puffed out, starting to feel his thick cock brush past your walls.
“Yeah? You can take it, pretty— right?” the blood in Jeno’s body starts to boil due to the warmth encompassing his length, and from the sense of pride filling him from your reaction to his size.
He begins to start a steady pace with his hip movements, sliding his cock in and out— not all the way, but enough to stimulate your sensitive walls.
He falls into a natural pattern as your body accepts him well. Your vision darts upwards towards the roof of the car, beginning to lose yourself to his fat cock.
Though it quickly lowers again when his head dips into your right breast, tongue slipping out and starting to twist around your erect nipple.
A mewl jumps out of you, hands redirecting to his muscular back with your nails pressing tightly into his skin.
“C’mon, talk to me.” Jeno rasps, making brief eye contact with you for a second before he briskly attacks your entire right breast with his mouth. He ferociously makes out with your mound and marks you, painting you with reddish-purple splotches and leaving the flesh sheening in spit.
His hunger for attention and to get you both off is ardent. Every other thrust into you is rigid. He was pacing himself at first to start off, but now his rhythm increases to fuck you hard and his length travels into you deep. He has no intention in holding back his horniness.
Lack of words from you aside from the whimpers and moans has him moving a hand to touch and toy with your clit. His calloused fingers alternate between softly pinching and sliding his fingers in a back-and-forth motion along the puffy bud.
“Oh— God! Jeno!” the attentiveness he shows to your aching clit while ramming into you has you scream his name. It has you automatically canting your hips up to meet his thrusts into you.
Your reactions and hearing his name from your voice drives Jeno wild. Breathy grunts leave his mouth, hips continuing in chasing both of your highs.
The current setting and moment is electrifying. Fucking in the car in a school parking lot was obscene and limited compared to bed space, but it was still extremely mind-numbing and euphoric sex.
Your frame caged under Jeno’s ripped body is like a dream. You felt so helpless in this position, but couldn’t possibly wish for him to stop. It was so hot seeing and feeling his figure fuck you into oblivion.
Your body rocking over the leather car seats only amplifies your feeling of sensitivity and arousal. God, how amazing it felt for Jeno to be pleasing you in this way was. You can’t even imagine how good it would be to fuck in other ways— in other places, with him.
His relentless efforts has your mouth stuck open. The arousement increases the amount of saliva within your mouth. Surprise catches you when some of it seeps out the corner of your mouth.
Your tongue lolls out in attempt to catch the drool before it fully falls, failing miserably as it rapidly trickles down from the corner, to your chin. Quickly, you wipe it off messily and then place your hand back over his skin, but it’s obvious that Jeno sees what just happened, as he’s right over you— much to your embarrassment.
Though, his cock surges in amusement, and so does his other head. You were literally drooling over his cock. How fucking sexy was that? Wonder how’d you look on your knees giving him the messiest head. Oh how he hopes to have that thought come to life one day.
“Mhm. So hot— fucking my cute, pretty neighbor. You like that too, hm? You like the feeling of your big neighbor on top and inside of you?” he teases you, watching your pretty figure being ruined beautifully by him. His filthy words mix with his dirty, animalistic movements.
“Feels so full and good, Jeno!” you choke out. You’re blissed out, feeling like the band in your core may snap soon.
There you go saying his name again, making Jeno groan repeatedly in ecstasy, dragging his cock deep into you, his weighty sack occasionally slapping against your bottom.
“Yeah? So full of me, pretty.”
“Taking me so well, like a good girl.”
Heat swells in your cheeks from his comments and the hot temperature and pressure felt as he fucks you. As much as you savor it, it’s becoming too much. The finish line is coming close to being ripped apart.
The thrill in the pit of your stomach has it churning. His long, deep strokes, each of your various moans bouncing off the tinted windows, his gruffly voice, and his finger-work over your sensitive bud— it’s all captivating you to feel an abundance of dopamine rush.
A shiver in your core tingles consistently. You’re beginning to lose control. It’s like you’re stoned and can’t focus on anything aside from the intensity of that tingly pressure present within you.
“Gonna cum, Jeno.” your voice cracked while your muscles tightened.
“Fuck,” he hisses at the tight grip of your walls swallowing him from the tip to base.
Your eyes rolled back behind your trembling lashes, and he watches with a keen stare and relishes in your smutty sounds. It all only encourages him to keep persisting to reach the peak.
And then, you finally break.
Your fluid expels from your pussy, lubricating your walls and leaving you a whimpering, wet mess.
Jeno pushes through your spasming, feeling the warmth spreading in your heated cunt through his condom. His own muscles can’t resist in clenching hard. He pushed you over the edge and possessed your mind and body with euphoria.
It’s practically heaven. His balls tighten and eyebrows push together with hips starting to slow down as strings of cum begin to fill his condom. It’s so relieving that a few guttural moans come out from his throat.
His hot seed falling into the condom is so fulfilling, sack emptied. All this activity has left him sweaty all over and mouth dry. His chest continues to heave and he carefully pulls out of you.
You shake and shiver now that the tension is dying down, and your muscles try to relax after the satisfying orgasm.
Jeno is quick to remove his used condom and tie it, abandoning it in a random spot in the car. He’ll of course, clean his car later.
He reaches towards the front of the car to search for his shirt, and then edges back to you.
“Hey, you were amazing, sweet girl. Let me help you.” Jeno spoke softly to you while the back of his fingers stroke one of your shaky thighs.
He began to use his shirt as a rag for any wetness seeping out and around the outside of your cunt.
You couldn’t help but flush at the aftercare he shows you, even while in a car and not hesitating to sacrifice his shirt to wipe your spills. Seems like chivalry isn’t dead after all.
“Thank you.” you say to him when he’s finished.
He just smiles at you, eyes crinkling as he sticks out a hand for you to grab, and helps you sit up next to him.
Still both fully naked, you still feel flushed and exposed now that the sex was over. Your breasts hanging out and his cock lying limp over his thigh was too hard to ignore. Jeno notices, and quickly gathers your t-shirt for you and his briefs for him, making you thank him once again.
You don’t know what to say now and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s obvious now that you two have an attraction to one another. But, where do you two go from here? Will this be a one time thing? Or maybe a friends-with-benefits type of deal? Guess you didn’t need a label right away, you barely know him. But you know you needed more of him, in any way— sexual or not.
In the midst of each of your silence, Jeno decides to reach for your hand, clasping his fingers with your own under his. He gently squeezes your hand, causing your own legs to squeeze together, beginning to feel a sense of giddiness inside.
“What’s on your mind?” he asks, thumb beginning to soothe you as he drags it back and forth the side of your hand.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” the words leap out of you, making you cringe as soon as they come out.
Mortification washes over you. Why the fuck would you ask that? What are you even implying?
Your sudden question makes him chuckle and grin, especially now that you already fucked. You guys are just now having this conversation.
“No Y/n, I don’t. I’m one-hundred percent single.” he smirks at you, thumb still tracing your skin.
His answer is pleasing to your ears. You try not to show how obviously happy you are with that. A faint smile is all you allow yourself to show.
“You don’t have a boyfriend now, do you?” he tilts his head at you, eyes playful.
“I don’t.” you spoke softly.
Just like you, Jeno finds himself content with your answer.
“Good girl.”
゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+ ゚+..。*゚+
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vauxxy · 8 months
Text
SECOND THAT
luke castellan x reader
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★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”
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ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.
WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.
A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows
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luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.
when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.
and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?
at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.
luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.
you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.
to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.
he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.
he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?
your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.
maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.
if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.
it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.
of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.
“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”
seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.
“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.
you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.
“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.
luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”
luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.
he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.
why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.
of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.
but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.
and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.
luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?
and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?
luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.
fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.
a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.
luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.
he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.
“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.
“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.
you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.
“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”
you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”
luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.
“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.
“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.
“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”
“is that a threat?”
you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.
“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“
luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”
you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.
“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”
luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”
you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.
he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.
“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.
luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.
luke was over it.
suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.
he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.
luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.
you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.
he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.
luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.
“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.
it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.
he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.
he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.
“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.
“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”
luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.
he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.
you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.
his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.
luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.
you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.
“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.
“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.
luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.
luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.
luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.
he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.
luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.
“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.
you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.
luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.
suddenly, he stops.
you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.
“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.
you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.
luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.
he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.
like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.
you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.
“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.
you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.
luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.
suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.
luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.
“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”
you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.
he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.
you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”
3K notes · View notes
saltofmercury · 27 days
Text
"a.m."
Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader
Summary: Early morning scenes, small nightmare.
Author's note: HOLY CRAP it's been a while! I haven't written anything in almost a YEAR. I'm glad that I've finally got a lil kick of writing back in me :) This is something small I wrote back in May just to get the gears working again.
"a.m."
You can hear his breathing to your left. 
Morning is just peeking through– a soft gloom enveloping your room. You’re not sure what time he got in, or how he got in this time.
“Why do you even have a key?” you ask when he unlocks the balcony window.
“In case you’re not home to unlock it for me.” He smiles big and wide, stripping the weapons aside.
It’s become a running joke to you both on how he decides to enter your apartment.
Your eyes shoot open. There’s a mountain of pillows surrounding you, warm blankets on top of you. The room is dimly lit from streetlights. You're almost sure it hasn't been a full 8 hours and yet—- your body is telling you to wake up.
You turn towards him. You almost never get to see this side of him. His breathing, slow and rhythmic. He looks so much younger when he’s relaxed. He takes over most of the bed. Arms curled above him, he’s wrapped most of the top blanket around him.
The scar below his left eye is raised, his lips are puckered out. A soft moan escapes his lips, then his body twitches. You’re on high alert.
Nightmares aren’t new. The first couple of nights that he decided to stay over your apartment, you were woken up by whimpers and sudden movements. You would sometimes catch them before he woke up and carefully soothe him back to sleep– rubbing his cheek, placing kisses along his face. Whispering careful “i love you’s” and “you’re alright i’m here now”
By morning, it was like nothing happened at all.
For him, though he may never admit it, it was nice to experience vulnerability. The constant battle he has to get a full night's rest. A plague that encases him at night.
You move closer, placing your hand on his cheek, tracing the scar with your thumb. You place a kiss on his forehead between his brows, then over the scar on his cheek. 
“You’re alright, you’re okay” you murmur.
An exhale — 
his face contorts a bit, brows furrow, then an inhale through his nose.
A hand cups your elbow, rubbing side to side. He’s fighting sleep. His eyes try to peel open.
“What time is it?” His voice, low and groggy.
“It’s too early, almost 5 am” You kiss him, apologizing. 
He groans —not even an hour of sleep. 
“Were you having a nightmare?” 
“No, I got in around 4…” He adjusts himself, the bed springs, a yawn escapes. Deflecting the question.
Sleep carefully disintegrates from his eyes. He inhales, and his eyes blink open. He can make your face out in the darkness, the gloom behind you haloing.
His body, heavy with fatigue, he pushes it aside to get closer to you, wrapping himself around you.
Warmth, vanilla, home, love.
“I used the front door today…” he mentions. He's a little proud of himself.
You giggle, adjusting yourself under his chin. His hand pulls you closer, rubbing warmth to your back. His legs warm around you. 
“Wasn’t it so much easier?”
He scoffs, remembering how ridiculous it felt to walk in with his helmet. He had to disable the cameras in the entrance then double check for anyone in the hallway to not scare them off.
“Everyone was asleep… thankfully. I just couldn’t help but think someone would see me, then see me use a key to enter an apartment.”
You smile at how silly it sounds. The Red Hood having an apartment to come home to.
“It’s much better than entering through a balcony window.” you whisper.
He hums, “Entering through a balcony never gave me nightmares.”
Tracing circles on his back, you lull him back to sleep, waiting for his breathing to even out. You whisper more love into his ear, hoping it reaches his subconscious.
596 notes · View notes
pedrospatch · 2 years
Text
weakness
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
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summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.
MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.
word count: 5.7k
“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”
You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”
“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”
You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess. 
“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”
“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”
“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.
“But Frank—”
“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”
Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise. 
“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite. 
“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”
Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”
Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside. 
“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”
You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look. 
Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity  to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.
You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime. 
Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”
You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude. 
Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”
“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”
Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.
What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?
What’s he going to think?
Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.
“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”
You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”
“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.
“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”
Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”
Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”
“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”
“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”
He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”
“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.
“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”
You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”
He ticks his  index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”
You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”
Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”
For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you. 
Could Frank actually be right? 
Do you actually mean something to Joel?
No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.
“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”
“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”
Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”
Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”
“You are his weakness.”
He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut. 
“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.
“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”
“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.
When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”
Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.
“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.
As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”
“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”
Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”
“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”
Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls  might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s  difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.
“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.
Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.
“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch  smells heavenly—Frank knows  it’s  your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart. 
Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.
“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”
You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”
Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”
His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly. 
Had he actually meant that?
“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. 
Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”
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Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant. 
Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.
 Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in. 
As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair. 
Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.
About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”
“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum. 
You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”
Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.
A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”
“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”
Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”
“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe. 
“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”
You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”
“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”
Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.
You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside. 
When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.
“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”
“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”
Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”
You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”
Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”
The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.
“What? But what about you?”
“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”
Bill and Joel being neighbors?
Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.
“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”
“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”
You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”
The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.
The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.
“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”
Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”
“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”
Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.
“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”
“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”
“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”
You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking  long since anyone had ever touched him like that. 
Since he’d let anyone touch him like that. 
He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks  into your touch.
Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.
“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”
Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”
You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”
“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”
Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.
He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.
Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.
“Joel…” 
Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.
“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”
Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes  its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.
You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.
Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.
The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain. 
“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.
His face remains just inches from yours.
“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”
“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is  at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.
Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”
You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”
He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.
This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage. 
Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.
“Well, well, well.”
Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face. 
“How long have you been standing back there?”
“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”
You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.
So maybe he’d been right after all.
Maybe you were Joel’s weakness. 
But he was yours too.
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taegimood · 28 days
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alright i need y’all to buckle up and hear me out cuz this is gonna be a long one…. bunny hybrid!soobin.
bunny hybrid!soobin w his long white ears that flop down instead of standing up just like his chikai chibi hat ❤️‍🩹
bunny hybrid!soobin who’s soooooooooo shy and nervous when you first bring him home… nervous twitching little tail and warm cheeks, bad at making eye contact, shifting awkwardly in one spot in the living room cuz it’s not home to him yet 🤧 also easily startled but you come to realize later that that’s just part of his personality so you try not to sneak up too much even on accident <3
he’s SO HUGE but such a baby !!! it takes him a while to warm up to you but not in any nasty way, just shy and hesitant, and you always give him space while making it known that the option to join you or be close to you is always open to him and eventually he starts to take it 🥺
at first he would sit stiff as a board on the complete opposite end of the couch from you LMAO but eventually over time he gets comfortable coming closer, until eventually his favorite thing becomes laying his head in your lap while you stroke his ears or sitting on the floor by your feet and leaning into your legs (but don’t point it out to him or he’ll get too shy and retreat).
i know that for rabbits, especially males, there’s not really a specific mating season because they literally will just want to breed any time of the year (lol rip 24/7 horny soobin) — but for hybrids, since they are.. hybrids, literally.. then let’s say that they do go into a regular heat, and let’s say that soobin’s is coming fairly soon after you first take him home.
only a month or two has passed so even though he’s comfortable with you now, he’s still a little reserved and shy with certain things, and so for his sake you’re dreading the coming conversation as you sit him down and gently try to bring up the topic of a breeding partner. the way he would get SO red, tail twitching and leg bouncing in his seat.. he’s refusing to make eye contact as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap and stammers “i-it’s okay, i-i don’t need one..” ears drooping forward to shadow over his face cuz he’s too busy looking down at his hands 😖
you’re gently trying to convince him that he does need one or he’ll be miserable, that it’s totally normal and expected and most people find breeding partners for their hybrids every season so it’s nothing to be ashamed of !!! you say most people because the other percentage are the ones who let their hybrids use them instead COUGH HACK but he doesn’t need to know that
you try to explain that there are services and programs just for this reason and it would be so easy peasy, just for a couple weeks, but soobin is NAWT HAVING IT as he suddenly springs up from his seat and darts out of the room — having gotten progressively redder and more jittery over the course of your attempted convincing.
he’s never bad or disobedient, would normally never run away like that while you’re in the middle of talking to him, but he just got SO unbearably embarrassed and shy,,,,, not to mention: the guilty filthy shameful (in his mind) secret that he has…… and that is, he actually doesn’t want it to be anyone else but you.
he feels safe with you, he trusts you, he’s already bonded to you more than you realize and part of the reason why he got so freaked out and ran away was because all his mind kept going back to was BREEDING YOU INSTEAD 😩 and little do the two of you know, but all the adrenaline from his little freak out ended up kickstarting his heat EARLY and when you find him later in his room after giving him some space for the day, he’s feverish, sweating and whimpering and writhing around uncomfortably in his blankets, hugging one of your sweatshirts to his face as he breathes in your scent. (a sweatshirt that you thought you’d lost, but turns out he had secretly taken for himself).
“binnie!!!” you’re rushing to him immediately cuz you’re so worried but that was a mistake or was it because the second you touch him, the second your scent fully wafts over him, there’s no going back. eyes shooting open and pupils blown out as they lock onto yours, and the next thing you know you’re face down in his blankets as he’s pounding you from behind, chest pressed flush against your back as his hips slam against your ass over and over and over again and he’s whining and whimpering into your ear, telling you how he didn’t want anyone else, didn’t want some bunny girl, he just wanted you, and he keeps apologizing but he can’t stop 🤧
you can finally admit that you fucking love it though because surprise surprise, you ALSO had some filthy secrets of your own and there was a part of you already that sometimes wondered what it’d be like to let him use you instead; on nights when it was hard to sleep and you’d lay awake in bed thinking of his big, gentle frame and pillowy lips, his soft eyes that contrasted so harshly with his strong hands and the outline of that huge cock in his pants that you tried so hard to pretend you never noticed.
it was especially difficult on nights when you could hear him from his designated room, his soft moans and little gasps as he would touch himself that never left your head — eventually causing even your own hand to wander into your panties with a mind of its own.
the kicker was that one time when you were relaxed together on the couch petting his ears as usual and thought, would he like it if i scratched behind them too?
….liking it is an understatement, because the moan that he let out as a result was enough to cut the evening short, him hiding away in his room from sheer embarrassment while you didn’t catch a wink of sleep that night, because all you could think was: i want to hear it again.
for a while after that he would get jumpy when you tried to touch his ears and you were worried you did something wrong to make him scared of you or something, but in reality he was just scared of HIMSELF and was convinced that he’d have to dig a hole and die of embarrassment if he ever moaned like that in front of you again. but don’t worry, the distance didn’t last long cuz he’s just too weak for you and can’t resist your nightly head pets <3
but i digress;;; basically the both of you just wanting each other so bad and not even knowing it, both feeling so guilty and shameful over it until now. now.. right now, as his big cock is buried so deep inside of you that you can’t think of anything else even if you wanted to; right now as he’s fucking you with so much desperation that the bedframe is gashing the paint right off of the rattling wall.
there wasn’t even the chance for clothes to fully come off, but you have plenty of time, and after that the two of you end up barely leaving his room for his entire one or two week heat other than for necessity because you know what they say about rabbits….
as fucked out of your mind as you are, you take such good care of him between waves with what energy you have left — placing wet cloths over his forehead and wiping the sheen of sweat from his neck and collarbones to ease his fever, trying to clean up as much cum and mess as you can before the next round hits, keeping his damp hair from his dazed, half-lidded eyes that watch you so gratefully, poor baby so vulnerable and exhausted between the waves of frenzy… and after everything’s finally over and it passes, he treats you like a FUCKING QUEEN trying to make up for battering you to death with his monster bunny cock all that time <3 you literally Cannot Walk
side note moablr is always talking abt soobin w a breeding kink but imagine BUNNY SOOBIN ???!!!!! holy shit logically he knows it’s not possible to get you pregnant but THAT DOESN’T MEAN HE WON’T TRY 😫 balls deep inside you babbling on and on about how he’s gonna breed you so good and fill you with his babies and he’ll do so well for you he promises - cums BUCKETS, thick and sticky and so much everywhere but cough anyway this is a whole other can of worms
after that first heat your relationship is obviously different but you’re always willing to give soobin whatever he needs. you learn very quickly that those pretty bunny lips have an oral fixation, always wanting something to suckle on; good thing you have tits !! and fingers 🥰
you’re laying on the couch watching a movie and he’ll walk over, just hovering hesitantly, fiddling with his hands, bunny lips pursed as if he wants to say something but isn’t… you immediately know what he wants and sigh with an endearing smile, murmuring “c’mere,” and opening your arms to him. he grins shyly and immediately flops on top of you, nestling into your arms, nuzzling his face into your chest before gradually his lips start suckling lightly at the part of your breasts he can get at, and then he’s pawing at your tank top, eventually getting it pushed down enough that your tits are free and he just lays there sucking and licking at your nipples for ages while you watch your movie, the occasional little moan slipping past his lips as his hips shift against you.
eventually you have to literally pull him off of you when you get too sensitive and he’s so whiny and sad. sighing and running your fingers over his lips instead; caressing your thumb over his pouty bottom lip, swollen from all the suckling, his glazed eyes watching you in anticipation, and as you slowly push your thumb past his lips he immediately moans and obediently begins to suck on that too, eyes sliding shut as his hot tongue swirls around it.
which brings me to soobin sucking on your fingers with barely-open eyes as you ride him — he’s so blissed out, fucked out look on his face as he drools around your fingers, hands weakly reaching for your plush thighs, your waist, your tits; just so fucking content as he lays there and takes everything you give him, moaning around your fingers with half-lidded eyes and his soft pretty bunny ears splayed out on the pillows, framing his handsome face <3
soobin always being too shy to go full out cock monster on you unless he’s desperate for it, so you like to purposefully get him to that point by cockwarming him, chilling on the couch not letting him move as you sit and read your book or play on your phone; he’s trying so hard to be a good boy and wait for your direction, but with the way your warm pussy keeps tightening around him he just can’t take it anymore and desperate frenzied soobin is unlocked as he flips you over and fucks you into the couch cushions like a madman.
and a final thought for now is tugging lightly on his ears or his tail whenever he’s getting too ahead of himself and it only makes him more of a whiny mess; he’d spend the whole day with his mouth buried between your thighs if he could, so tug on his soft ears and it gets him all teary-eyed as you’re holding his face back mere centimeters from your cunt that he wants to bury his face in so badly </3
if your nipples are too sensitive at the moment to handle his oral fixation or if your hands are too busy doing something else, then you can always find soobin between your legs, mouthing at your pussy and humping the air or the couch as his little whimpers send delicious vibrations up through your core.
aaaaanyway.. i love hybrid aus man. just soft sweet bunny soobin who loves and trusts you so much and always wants to be inside you, close to you, connected to you in some way. just so so happy to be yours ❤️‍🩹
p.s… i may or may not have hybrid thoughts for other members as well 👀
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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
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Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋
Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!
Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out
CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon
Link to My Master List
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Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.
You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.
"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.
You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.
"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.
"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.
"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.
"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.
You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"
Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.
You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.
“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 
Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”
“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”
“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”
“Huh.”
“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.
“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.
What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          
“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.
“Yes, I am.”
You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.
“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”
Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.
“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.
He smirks. “I’m strategic.”
You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.
You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.
He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.
You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.
“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”
He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.
“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”
“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”
His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”
“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.
“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”
His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.
“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.
“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.
Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.
“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…
“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.
“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”
You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.
“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.
“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.
“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”
Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”
“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.
“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.
“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.
“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.
“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??
Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.
You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.
“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”
“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”
You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.
“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.
You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.
“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.
“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.
“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.
“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”
“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.
“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”
Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”
“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.
His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.
“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.
“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.
“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.
“Really?” He whispers.
“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.
You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.
Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.
Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.
You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.
You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.
“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.
“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.
After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.
“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.
He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.
“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.
He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.
“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.
“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.
He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –
A knock on the door causes you both to still.
“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”
“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”
The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.
“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”
“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.
You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.
“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.
Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”
You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.
“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.
“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.
“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.
“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”
“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.
Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.
Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.
Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.
“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”
“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.
As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.
Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.
You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.
“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.
“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.
“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 
“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.
“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.
“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”
Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.
“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”
You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.
“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”
You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.
----------------------------------
PART 2
PART 3
🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥
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firehose118 · 1 month
Text
outsider perspective for @bucktommypositivityweek
Even with everything else going on, Bobby notices that Buck is particularly restless in the weeks after the cruise disaster. He figures it’s nerves about Chimney and Maddie’s wedding or the bachelor party. He doesn’t pay much attention to it. 
Buck’s restlessness hits an all-time high around the time Eddie is out with a sprained ankle. Bobby attributes it to the absence of his partner and doesn’t think much of it. 
And then, only two weeks before the wedding—just when Buck should be getting even more stressed out—Buck gets very calm. Maybe more calm than Bobby has ever seen him. And he stays that way.
Something changes for him between one shift and the next, but he doesn’t talk about it; just walks around the firehouse with a small smile on his lips and a spring in his step. For the first time, Bobby thinks Buck looks at ease with himself.
Bobby waits patiently to find out why. 
He officiates the hospital wedding with tears in his eyes. He’s proud of Chimney, happy for Maddie, and he’s still sensitive from the fresh wave of appreciation for Athena and their life together he’s felt since they almost died on their honeymoon. 
When he sees Buck lead Tommy into the hospital room by the hand—his face covered in soot that’s clearly transferred from Tommy’s, smiling wide and goofy, bouncing his way towards his sister and the cake with a lightness Bobby hasn’t seen from him in a long time—Bobby instantly understands this is it. This is what finally allowed Buck to feel at ease. The tears are back in his eyes. 
“Did you know about this?” Athena asks Bobby quietly. 
They’re watching Tommy try to figure out how to greet Maddie without getting any soot on her beautiful dress. He ends up awkwardly kissing her hand, which makes her laugh in delight. Buck can barely contain his excitement at the two of them getting along. He looks like he should be wagging a tail. 
“No, I didn’t have a clue,” Bobby answers honestly. “But it explains a lot.” 
Bobby can’t say that he didn’t see this coming for Buck. They’ve been out on too many calls where Buck has tripped over himself in front of hot men for this to be a surprise. True, Bobby didn’t foresee Tommy being Buck’s first relationship with a man, but he’s glad he is. Tommy is a good guy. Bobby might not know him well, but he knows that much. For Buck to finally settle into this part of himself with Tommy by his side fills Bobby with joy for both of them. Tommy will treat Buck well, and will be treated well in return. 
Bobby watches as Tommy wets a paper napkin with condensation from his drink and tries to clean what is obviously the soot of his kisses off of Buck’s mouth. Bobby sees the soft, smitten way Tommy smiles at Buck—like it’s a privilege to do this; like Buck is something to be treasured. Bobby sees the way Buck smiles so hard at the simple intimacy that Tommy has trouble reaching inside his dimples. Bobby has never seen Buck smile quite like this. There’s nothing inappropriate about it, but Bobby almost feels like he shouldn’t be seeing it. It’s so nakedly tender that it feels like it should be private. 
Tommy finishes cleaning the soot off as best he can and gives Buck a gentle kiss. Buck laughs gleefully when Tommy grimaces and wipes where his lips just were again. They’re too far away for Bobby to hear, but he sees Buck say, I don’t care, and lean in for another quick kiss. The corners of Tommy’s lips turn up. He doesn’t try to wipe the soot off this time. 
It’s so early, but Bobby can already tell that this is the kind of love that Buck has been waiting for; the kind he deserves. There’s a maturity under the flirtation—a steadiness—that Bobby can feel from across the room. It’s early, but it isn’t casual. Buck doesn’t love by halves, and Tommy is already all in. He wouldn’t have shown up to a hospital wedding in ash-covered turnouts if Buck wasn’t special to him. 
The last Bobby knew, Tommy didn’t do relationships. That was a long time ago. When they worked together at the 118, Bobby could always tell that Tommy was holding parts of himself back. He’d talked about being intentionally single almost convincingly, but sometimes Bobby had seen a bit of panic under it. Sometimes a wistfulness; a longing he’d shove down with a careful dismissiveness. Bobby had taken notice, but he hadn’t locked into where it came from at the time. Maybe if Bobby had spent more time with Tommy before he transferred—if Bobby hadn’t been drowning in his own demons at the time—he would have understood this thing inside of Tommy a little better. But he understands it now: under the jaded matter-of-factness and from inside the closet, Tommy had been bursting at the seams to love and be loved. He just didn’t know how to let himself have it. 
Buck had the same need inside of him: he’d worn that love me love me love me desperation on his sleeve for years. Tommy is the first of Buck’s partners to meet him on this level, as far as Bobby has been able to tell. 
As Buck and Tommy make their way excitedly between groups holding hands, Bobby can see how that gnawing need has dissipated in both of them. They both look relaxed and happy, even after everything they’ve both been through in the last 24 hours. They have each other now. 
Bobby is proud of them both. 
Buck and Tommy are two of the first to leave. Tommy started with high energy—still running on the adrenaline of firefighting and the anxiety of trying to make it to the wedding on time—but he fades fast. After an hour, he’s half asleep on his feet, leaning hard into Buck’s side while they talk to Eddie and Chris, his hand tight on Buck’s hip to keep himself upright. Buck whispers something into his ear and he nods. Buck drops a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s almost shy, the way he does it; almost disbelieving, like he’s still coming to terms with the idea that he can do this now. Bobby can see the joy that bubbles up in Buck when Tommy nuzzles into it. He gets more soot on Buck’s face. 
Buck leads Tommy over to a chair in the corner and parks him there while he does his rounds of goodbyes. Smart, Bobby thinks. Goodbyes at their group gatherings take upwards of half an hour. Tommy is asleep within seconds of sitting down. 
Bobby watches as Buck gets lots of gentle teasing, lots of hugs, and even a firm handshake from his father. Buck blinks hard like he wasn’t expecting such a clear show of approval, small as it may seem. The Buckley parents aren’t ones for affection, even when they’re trying to be supportive. Buck takes his father’s hand like the olive branch Bobby knows it is. 
Bobby has no such reservations. Buck starts walking towards him and Athena looking more nervous than he did when he walked up to his parents, and Bobby pulls him into a solid hug before he can even say anything. Bobby doesn’t let him go for a long moment. 
“I’m so proud of you, kid,” he says, trying not to cry again. 
Buck has come such a long way from the lost, desperate person he was seven years ago. He’s not casting about in the dark looking for something, anything to tether himself to. He’s grown and matured on his own, and finally he found a partner who wants to meet him where he is. A partner who shows up for him. 
“Thank you, Bobby.” Buck clings a little and sounds on the verge of tears himself. 
Athena makes Buck promise to bring Tommy to the next cookout. Buck blushes and ducks his head as he agrees. Bobby remembers how happy Tommy was to have family dinners, back when Bobby first instituted them. He gets the sense that Tommy didn’t have too many of those growing up. He can’t wait to see Tommy’s face at a family cookout. Bobby might even let him have a turn on the grill. 
Buck wakes Tommy up with a gentle hand on his cheek. Tommy stirs, pressing into Buck’s hand before he’s even fully awake. Bobby watches as Tommy remembers where he is, as he looks up at Buck and gives him an eye-crinkling smile; somewhat refreshed from his nap and happy to have Buck near him again. He nods at whatever Buck says to him and lets Buck pull him to his feet. 
They throw a last goodbye to the general group as they leave the room hand-in-hand. Buck has never looked more settled in his own skin; more like himself. Neither has Tommy. They both look like they’ve found what they’ve been looking for their whole lives. 
Bobby’s not sure he believes in soulmates, but they make a pretty compelling argument. 
“I give it six months,” Athena says. 
“You don’t think they’ll last?” Bobby asks, surprised. “Haven’t you seen them tonight?” 
“Six months until they’re engaged,” Athena clarifies with a teasing smile. 
“Ah,” Bobby smiles. “I don’t know. Buck might not rush this one.” 
“It’s not a rush if you know it’s right,” Athena says. She gives Bobby a significant look. 
“I can’t argue with that.” Bobby leans down to kiss Athena. Every kiss still thrills him like it’s the first time. “Let’s just hope their honeymoon goes a little better than ours.” 
Athena hums. “We’ll keep them far away from any boats.” 
They watch Buck wrap his arm around Tommy’s waist while they walk down the hospital hallway. Tommy leans into him and presses a kiss to his temple. 
It’s so early. This could just be the honeymoon phase. It could just be the two of them finding something that feels good after so many relationships that felt wrong, for one reason or another. It could be explained away a million different ways. But Bobby has a feeling in his gut that this is it for both of them.
Bobby may not have foreseen Tommy being Buck's first relationship with a man, but he does foresee Tommy being Buck's last relationship. If Maddie had thrown her bouquet, Buck would have caught it without even trying. They’re next, Bobby knows. And it’s going to work out. 
They’re good for each other.
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bisexualadamparrish · 2 years
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having the worst fucking 24 hours 🤪
#feeling very 🤧🙃😶😞😒🤬🔪 today#was on family vacation yesterday and my parents told me n my sister my brither wasnt coming#only to spring on us last minute that he did in fact get off work and was in fact coming#and even though we said we woukdnt go if he was we went anyways but we drove down a day later#and he is just such a miserable fucking asshole and cant help but pick a fuckig fight and be as demeaning as possible#that he started some shit yesterday and my sister and i pcked up early and drove the eight hours home last night#and like it was the right choice if we had stayed it either would have kept escalating or we would have just hidden in our room at which#point why even fucking be there#but now my parents are guilt tripping us for 'punishing them for his behavior' and are telling us wr need to 'just ignore it and act like#adults for once' but the thing is we're always the ones who have to fucking ignore it and act like adults#and we told them if he was there we didnt want to be bc we knew being stuck.in a house w him for a full week had no way of ending well#and they still had us come and still coukdnt believe when we followed through on removing ourselves from thw situation when it got too be#too much and like. maybe it was dramatic of us but im sorry#there is no one else in my life who could treat me the way he does and speak to me the way he does and demean me the way he does that i#would tolerate being around me and they never would expect me to!!! if i had a friend who acted like he does even one single time they would#tell me to get that person out of my life but suddenly bc we're related im supposed to have no boundaries and just get through by Being The-#Bigger Person??? no fucking way y'all have been telling me to ignore him and to be the bigger person for as long as i can fucking remember#and im sick of it!!!!! why should i have to just grin and bear literal abuse and harassment??#he has such a horrible temper and multiple times in the pst he has let that temper escalate to him actually putting his hands on me#and threatening to hurt me and my sister#so how tf am i supposed to know when the next time his yelling is going to turn into more?#and even the yelling and ranting and hqrassment why tf would i put up with it???#aorry for the rant im just so fucking mad#and now im here at home w no plans and my car is broke so i cant even drive over to my partners house which is all i really want to do#and they're going to come get me when they get off of work but thats this evening and rn i just want to cry#anyways if you read this sorry 🤧🤧🤧 i just needed to get it out of my system#my post
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mochinomnoms · 7 months
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So uhhhh...... what other kinks would octavinnle have 😗
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I already went into one I think Jade would have, so I'll list three new ones for each and a brief thing as to why, though it's not their only ones I would say it's some of their top ones.
Azul
Oral fixation: Azul has a refined palate, he can note each ingredient used in dishes with just his tongue! He's learned to put that tongue to good use, so it's logical to assume that he'd like to taste you as well. And Azul does love it so. There is no treat taster than you and your cum on his tongue, and while he's not one to indulge in his meals, for you he'd make an exception. I do hope that you are willing to keep your legs open for a quite some time, after all you wouldn't want to deny him of a treat, would you?
Praise kink: Let's be real, because of his childhood, Azul thrives on recognition and praise for his hard work. When he decides to go into something, it's never half-hearted, especially regarding his love and affection to you. So, praise him! Tell him what a good job he's doing, tell him to keep hitting that spot right there, oh god, Azul, you make me feel so goood~ It makes him feel so so good knowing that only he gets to make you feel like this, that only he gets to hear your voice praising him. It gets him off, so keep doing it at all times, whisper in his ear about how smart and wonderful he is in all aspects, the sweet tone in your voice gets him hot and heavy, turning into a need to keep hearing those honeyed words and show you just how deserving he is of your praise.
Breeding: Out of the trio, he is technically the only one with a mating season (two actually). And while he can usually get over those seasons on his own, with you at his side he instinctually develops a need to breed you silly! Who knew he had such a desire to become a daddy, you'll help him won't you? As his mate? Regardless of whether or not you can actually get pregnant, when the late spring and early fall come, he needs to fill your tummy with so much cum that it hurts! You'll spend at least two months out of the year with bent over or in a mating press until you're shuddering and twitching as milky white fluids are dripping from your hole. Now now, Azul can't have that, so won't you let him fill you just one more time? (It's never just one more time.)
Jade
Shibari: Jade thinks it's fascinating how humans don't have long, winding limbs to wrap their mates and make due with soft, pretty colored ropes. It's even more fascinating seeing the fat of your skin bulge against the ropes. Your chest, thighs, hips, all straining the ropes as your hands are tied against your back, helpless to his poking and prodding. Call him sadistic, but he loves seeing you so helpless underneath him, pretty eyes begging for him to use you and make you feel good. It makes him feel a sort of way to hear you beg to free your hands so you can hold him, dig your nails into his skin as your orgasm inches closer and closer. Jade does love having you be so helpless under him, free for him to use as he sees fit.
Service kink: Jade likes taking care of things, to be depended on. After all, he's so good at being a dependable partner, so why not place all your pleasure into his very capable hands? Be warned, though, Jade can be quite sadistic, and once you place your pleasure into his hands, it belongs to him and only him. There's no need to touch yourself when he hands long, nimble fingers to use, a long furling long to sink into your heat, and attentive eyes that watch and study every single moan, twitch, and breath you take. Jade will make sure that your lust filled brain will be drawn to him, immersed with the mind-blowing rapture he provides. All to the point that you'll only be able to cum through him, whether it be his mouth, hands, or dick. It's fine, Jade does love depend on, especially if it ruins you for anyone else after him. That's if you can bring yourself to leave, after all you'll never find another quite as attentive and caring as he. Jade's made sure of that.
Roleplaying: This plays a bit into Jade's service kink, but he does love dressing you up in cute outfits and making you play a bit. Perhaps he is a butler, and you're his master, bringing yourself down to ruin by a lowly servant as he fucks you into oblivion. Perhaps he's come to collect collateral from you for a deal, and you can only offer yourself. Maybe he's a big bad sea monster, and you're a sweet little human that drifted too far off into the sea. In any case, he loves playing into any of his roles, teasing you as you start of shy like an actor with stage fright. It's wonderful when Jade finally gets to see you lose yourself into your role, all for him. Though, don't be surprised if he decides to turn the table a bit, and dresses you up in a maid costume with a leash and collar. As much as he loves playing his usual role, Jade does also love seeing you coo and tend to him (and his dick) like the pretty, sweet spouse he knows you will be. Go on love, get on your knees and make him feel good. It's your responsibility to clean up the mess of slick you've left on his dick after all.
Floyd
Overstimulation: To no one's surprise, Floyd has plenty of energy to go around once he's interested in something, and you are very interesting to him. He wants to see just how much you can take of him and what he gives you until your crying and begging him to give you a break. But unless you give him your safe word, that delicious orgasm he just gave you is blending into the next as he seeks his own euphoria. But don't think that he won't just ignore his own overstimulation, because he will. Just feels so good for both of you that it almost hurts. And yet, Floyd just can't help and keep going. That yummy high on cloud 9 is gonna keep going, even through your shrieks and cries for a break, the rhythmic slap of skin, the shuddering breaths. He just can't stop, even if he wanted to, oh please Floyd! It's too much! It feels too good-AAAAH~ He'll keep going until you both pass out from sheer sensory overload and exhaustion, his dick still in you and ready to go when you wake back up.
Dumbification: This is a bit surprising, or maybe not, but Floyd loves fucking you until you're so sex-brained that all you can think about his him and his dick. He wants you to love his cock so much that you're bending over and spreading yourself open for him with hearts in your eyes. No thoughts, head empty except for Floyd and his cum. He wants a pretty smile with your tongue lolling out. He wants you to see him taking pictures of him fucking you with your hands forming a heart. He wants you to ignore anything and everything else except for him, because you're his little dummy that can only think about him and his pretty dick that's bruising your insides and shaping you for him. And only him.
Dacryphilia: This should actually come as no surprise, but Floyd gets really horny at seeing your tears streaming down your face. But not from being upset, no, he loves the tears that come from him overstimulating you. They're just so pretty! You're so cute, and he's so big, too big for you, but you try so hard! So forgive him if he's a bit mean, a little rough, and dragging out orgasm after orgasm from you so that you're whimpering and sobbing. Such a sweet sight reserved just for him, as only he can guarantee that these tears come from feeling good and not from something more sinister. Plus, Floyd really likes how you pout at him. It's just so cute!! And he just looooves cute things.
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