#what’s stopping force users from just force choking everyone

[5unrider]

i told my coworker about my brainstorming a star wars campaign for my d&d table, and he would not stop making the point of 'what's stopping everyone from being a jedi / sith and just force choking literally everyone and immediately winning every fight?' and it's like … what's stopping every single d&d player from playing a wizard and fireballing everything to death? because that's stupid, and not everyone wants to play a wizard even if magic is cool, and some people actually care about the story and the roleplaying. like what

[owlcomics101]

”Zoomies.” Task force 141 x Cheetah hybrid!user

Warning: SFW (I am a minor), fluff, cussing/swearing, cat shenanigans

You were a cheetah hybrid. You had the cheetah ears, tail, fangs, and feet paws. You were a great asset to the task force for your speed and agility accept, there was one problem; You get the ‘zoomies’. If you have an off day or a mission that didn’t involve a full on chase. All that built up energy needed to be released at some point. You were sitting in Price’s office, helping him out with some reports when your legs started to bounce. Your fingers tap against the table anxiously as you held one of the files in your hands and tried to focus on reading it. Price looked away from his computer screen-noticing your fidgeting.

“You alright there Y/N?” He asked with a skeptical brow, to which you tried to play it off with a head nod before going back to your paper. Price cocked his head to the side seeing your tail thrashing back and forth violently and smacking against your chair. He couldn’t help but slightly smirk in amusement.

“You’re fidgeting, love.” He points out. You let out a huff looking away from him.

“No-……So what? I’m just a bit finicky right now….” You grumble, griping the paper tightly until your knuckles turned white. Price couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Look, if we get this done I’ll take you outside. How does that sound?” He tried offering a compromise, trying to have something to motivate you to work. Your ears couldn’t help but perk up at the offer.

“Really?” You asked with a low purr rumbling in your throat“Really, mate.” Price replied. Amused by your low purr that you hadn’t even noticed occur. Your ears rested flat against your head as you went right to work, determined to finish early before it was lights out for everyone. Price let out a small sigh of relief. Finally getting your ‘zoomies’ under control. That was until there was a large thud in the hallway. Price immediately got up from his desk and walked over to the door and opened it to see what the racket was all about.

“What the bloody hell is going on out here!?” Price shouts, only to be met with Soap being chased by Ghost down the hall. Gaz on the floor who seemed to have been caught by surprised and trampled by the two, but Gaz was just too fed up with them to get up anymore.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK JOHHNY-RIGHT NOW BEFORE I CUT YOUR BLOODY TONGUE OFF!” Ghost shouts. Your ears perk up at this as you look over to see Ghost tackling Soap to the ground and attempting to choke Soap out.

“Y-You c-an’t escape the t-truth L.T!” Soap said between choked breaths. Price storming over and pulling Ghost off of Soap.

“Would you muppets cut the shitte out!? Y/N are trying to get some fucking work done and you two are just sitting here acting like childr-“

“Uhh…..guys?” Gaz interrupts Price slowly standing to his feet.

“What!?” Price snaps looking back at Gaz before his eyes widen. All four of them see you staring back at them with dilated pupils and teeth bared, your shoulders slightly shifting as if your getting ready to pounce.

“Oh shit….” Soap muttered

“Fucking hell-“ Ghost was cut off by you bolting out of Price’s office and sprinting towards them. Soap struggled to get up as they all panicked trying to get out of the way but just kept bumping into each other like a pair of idiots.

“Y/N no-Please just take a moment to breathe-“ Price tried to deescalate the situation but you immediately tackled him to the ground. Knocking the air straight out of him as he wheezed. You looked down at Price before looking back up to see Soap running ahead.

“Soap stop running!-Your gonna give Y/N the wrong idea-“ Ghost tried to get Soap to stop but you used Ghost as a boost and jumped onto Ghost’s shoulders and jump off to tackle Soap.

Cut to the team lying in makeshift beds in the infirmary, all of them covered in head to toe with bruises and scratches from you. You were given catnip to ‘calm down’. They all stared at you playing with a toy mouse. All of them still out of breath and wheezing from the chase. Ghost and Soap will think twice before arguing with each other again.

[seijorhi]

SHUDDER

Kozume Kenma x female reader

a Valentine’s Day Collab

tw: heavy dubcon, nsfw, voyeurism, murder, yandere themes, this one's a doozy y'all we're goin' out with a bang :))

The red light on the camera atop his computer blinks steadily.

Kenma’s not some sappy romantic, he doesn’t really do Valentine’s Day. This stream wasn’t even his idea to begin with. It just so happened that he was frustrated and pissed off, venting in the chat when one of the users made a comment that got him thinking.

(He’s not an asshole, either – he did remember to bring you a box of heart shaped chocolates.) 

He was gonna do this one way or the other, the timing just sort of worked out, and he supposes he can see the romantic side of it all. Girls are supposed to like this sort of thing, aren’t they – grand declarations of love and all that. 

“You remember the rules, don’t you?” he asks. 

Your cheeks shining with stricken tears, your lower lip wobbling, you nod minutely, eyes downcast.

Kenma frowns a little, and draws your chin upwards, forcing you to meet his eye. “I need you to say it. Out loud.”

You swallow audibly, risking a glance over towards the bed, the bound figure thrashing about, yelling desperately through his gag. Kenma’s fingers tighten, and you let out a startled squeak, quickly returning your attention back to him. “You– you’re gonna–” your voice hitches, “I h-have to–”

“Aw, c’mon Kenma, don’t be mean to the poor thing,” Kuroo snickers, driving his elbow into the gut of your soon-to-be ex boyfriend for good measure when he gets a bit too rowdy for his liking. 

Irritation spikes, and Kenma barely – barely – refrains from rolling his eyes and huffing. Truthfully, he’s not so sure he could’ve pulled this whole thing off without his friend’s help, he’d just appreciate it if that help were a little more silent. 

“Say it,” he repeats, the hand keeping you perched on his lap slipping down between your thighs to your bare cunt, the wet slick from your earlier efforts coating his fingertips as they rub possessively along your slit.

Kenma’s eyes drift back to the camera, tilting your face along with his, “Tell them what you’re gonna do.”

You look miserable, terrified, and so fucking pretty as you hiccup another sob, “I-I’m going to fuck you, a-and if I want… if I want him–”

“If you wanna win, you have to make me cum before he runs out of air.”

He’s already had you cum for everyone watching, made you play with your cute little pussy with the toys he’d bought for you. A part of him hates that others got to see it, but it was his choice to livestream this. Just for tonight – and then you’re for his eyes only.

… And maybe Kuroo’s. He does sort of owe him for this. 

Kenma doesn’t bother asking if you’re ready to start, he just spreads his legs a little wider, looks to Kuroo and bobs his chin. The plastic bag and duct tape thing isn’t exactly high tech or all that elegant – it’ll do the job, though, he knows that much. 

“I dunno how long it’ll take,” he tells you quietly, Kuroo grinning widely as he begins sliding the bag over your boyfriend’s head. “A minute or so to lose consciousness, I guess, after that…” he shrugs, looking almost bored at the prospect.

You, though – it lights a panic in your eyes, your whole body trembling as you lurch to your feet. Duct tape rips, your boyfriend’s choked and muffled noises growing more and more frantic as he yells your name and thrashes about. Kenma ignores him – there’s a part of him that kind of wishes he wasn’t here to begin with, but he s’poses he does have some value – as you reach for his boxers and pull out his aching, twitching cock and stroke it.

He looses a shuddering breath, fingers sinking into the armrest of his gaming chair.

You go to sit down on his cock – facing him, like lovers do – and Kenma barely has the presence of mind to stop you. “No,” he gasps, shaking his head and swallowing dryly. “Show them.”

You’re clumsy as you turn, flinching, half-sobbing with every distressed noise that fills the room. If Kenma were particularly vindictive, he’d tell you to hurry it up, because at this rate your stupid boyfriend will be brain dead before he’s even inside you. 

He’s far too invested in the way you settle your thighs either side of his and grip his cock – flushed pink to the tip, weeping with pre that you diligently swirl over the sensitive head – in a trembling hand, guiding it to where it needs to be as you lower your hips down to meet his. 

And the feel of your pussy, that warm, slick velvet that sucks him in has him moaning, every thought eddying from his head. Holy fuck, it feels incredible. Uncoordinated and sloppy as your movements are, you’re heaven and your pussy is a thousand times better than the fantasies he’d gotten off to before. He promised himself he wouldn’t do anything to help you along while you fucked him, but Kenma can’t help the hand that reaches for your breast, needily groping at the soft, pillowy flesh. 

Seated to the hilt inside of you, every sensation is heightened. Every hitch in your breath, the fluttering of your pussy, squeezing and pulsing around him, the shudders that wrack your body as Kenma’s other hand tightens around your hip. “Move,” he pants. “Fuck– please–”

You do, raising your hips until only the very tip of his cock remains inside and sinking down once more. Your chest bounces for the camera as you set the pace, your tears and sniffles lost to the sound of comments pinging, donations pouring in. Kenma can’t stop touching you – everywhere, every inch of soft skin he can reach, squeezing and pinching and groping. “Don’t look at him,” he growls when your head starts to turn towards the bed. “Watch.”

Your boyfriend’s hacking and gagging, the noises growing louder and louder, warring with Kenma’s moans and your sobs, the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your cunt as you pleasure yourself on his dick. When the noises start to die down, and your boyfriend’s flailing turns into an unsettling, unnatural jerking and then not even that, you clench so tightly around his cock that Kenma’s vision goes white. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–” he chants, clutching you closer with a rabid desperation. 

You’re wailing, scrambling in vain to get off of him and with a mind of its own his hips buck up inside of you, once, twice – and Kenma cums harder than he ever has before.

[fantasyismyonlyrealescape]

Whumptober 2024: No. 11 - Loneliness/"Leave No Trace Behind, Like You Don't Even Exist"

Title: A Tormented Mind Knows No Relief

Characters: Jey Uso (main); Sami Zayn (mentioned)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Word Count: 648

A/N: Welcome to another addition to Whumptober, Day 11. Hope you enjoy this one.

Summary: Jey Uso escapes the ring at the 2023 Royal Rumble, unable to watch his brothers take their revenge on the one who betrayed them. Unfortunately, being alone with his thoughts doesn't help either.

Cross posted on AO3 under user wrestlinginjeans.

The darkened room was awash with the negative emotions emanating off of the tattooed wrestler standing in the middle of the empty space. He was alone, nobody with half a mind would want to be around him in that moment. A strangled growl escapes the throat of the man, his hands clenched into tight fists to the point that of rivulets of crimson liquid draw bright trails down his palms. The pain was being used in a vain attempt to quiet the thoughts inside his head, but it wasn’t helping like it had in the past. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw what had gone down in the ring, the action that had torn his family apart. After, his mind would flash images of a smiling Sami just to torment him.

In a flash he turns to the side, taking two quick steps towards the nearest wall and slamming his right fist against it, another strangled half-choked cry escapes his throat as his fist makes contact with the wall. He uncurls his fist, placing the palm of his hand flat over the damage to the wall that his fist had made, his head falling forward to rest his forehead against the cold wall.

“Why did you do it, Sami?” A voice, barely recognizable to the man it belonged to, cracked as it bounced around the room. “Why did you do this to me?”

A quiet moment passes, and he knew that he wouldn’t get an answer.

“Why did you leave me here alone?” The voice, this time barely above a whisper, filled with all the pain, heartache, and betrayal that he was feeling in that moment. He wasn’t alone truly; he had his family. But most of who he called family were no longer such. Roman Reigns had manipulated and abused him for years. Jimmy Uso, his twin, his everything, was beginning to believe the words whispered by Paul Heyman and Roman Reigns in an effort to cause distrust between the two brothers. Solo Sikoa, his baby brother, was slipping away from him day by day and no matter what Jey did to try and stop him, his efforts were futile.

His whole body shuddered as he slammed his eyes shut, crouching down to the floor as his legs threatened to send him crashing down. “I can’t do this, Uce…” A pained whisper, directed towards the tile below, join the tears that had begun to trail down his face and leave droplets on the floor.

He felt as if he could hardly breathe, his breaths harsh and rapid as he attempts to quell the emotional turmoil that raged within him. He had just begun to feel secure and safe in his position within the family, he had just started learning to trust others again and in a single arch of that damned steel chair, it had all come down on top of him.

He wouldn’t, couldn’t put himself through that again. He would once again harden himself against all of the external forces that threatened to break his walls down. He would be the man he had been before he ever met Sami Zayn. He would wipe all trace of him from his mind, until there was nothing left. No more attempts to make him laugh, no more smiles that could light up the entire room, the ones that penetrated Jey’s very soul. No more shoulders or fingertips brushing up against each other as they pass by, subtle enough to prevent the others from noticing. No more stolen glances and whispers shared between the two in the wee hours of the morning when everyone else was asleep. There would be no trace left behind, Jey would make certain of that if it was the last thing he would ever do and then he would destroy everything that Sami held dear like Sami had done to Jey.

[pulaasul]

TWENTY-THREE YEARS OLD

Ace-sama is dead.

Sara was with Keiwa when she learned that news, she's sure if she asked her brother not to fight the person who killed Ace-sama, he would not go.

"Promise Me, you'll Come Back"

A/N: As this was intended to be a birthday fic, the main prompts here were the Persona 5 Fandom's "Kiss Ryuji Day" wherein every Persona 5 character is drawn or written to kiss Persona 5's Ryuji, one of the preview images for the last episode of Geats, and Keiwa's wish to become an idol.

FFN I Ao3

--------

News of Ace's death had reached even Sara's ears. She was with Keiwa when her brother was informed through his spider phones about that particular announcement.

One word from her, she's sure that Keiwa wouldn't fight Sueru.

"Please promise me you'll come back."

Sara saw her brother bite his lips and looked away for a moment.

The both of them knew that she could lose her brother, for good this time. No ominous frog statue to force her into a deadly tournament in exchange for reviving her brother.

"Nee-chan, I love you."

"I love you too, Keiwa."

The siblings hugged each other, both knew that this could be the very last time they get to hug each other in their lives.

As soon as Keiwa left the apartment to meet with Neon-chan and Buffalo-san, Sara spied on the calendar, specifically on the 25th day of August.

"Please let him make it to his 23rd birthday."

--------

Sara had caught glimpses of the final fight against Sueru, she didn't have the heart to witness the whole thing, especially when the red and black Rider was choking the life of her brother.

She had been in the apartment after she had called in sick when she was unceremoniously teleported to the DGP salon.

"Sara-sama, I apologize for forcefully teleporting you here, I didn't know who else to call."

"It's okay Tsumuri-san, what do you need?"

"I don't know…" Tsumuri admitted. "Ace-sama… he…"

"Is he alive?"

"I don't know," Tsumuri shook her head. "I had teleported the both of us from where he and Sueru fought and then he vanished."

"Didn't that simply mean that he's alive?" Sara offered, hopeful for the outcome of the ongoing battle with her brother and Sueru.

"I.."

Before another word could escape from Tsumuri had gasped.

Curious why Tsumuri gasped, Sara turned around and saw on a holographic screen that Neon-chan and Buffalo-san in the floor while the red and black Rider took her brother by the throat and lifted him off of the ground.

"Keiwa!"

Whatever was said the man holding her brother by the throat, none of it registered in Sara's mind. She couldn't do anything to save her brother from his fate.

If Ace died against Sueru, what hope could his brother have?

"I'm sorry Tsumuri-san, but…" Sara tried her best to hold back her tears. "I don't think I can watch this… Can you…"

"I'll take you to the spare room, Sara-sama."

Tsumuri escorted Sara to the spare room, coincidentally; It was the room Keiwa was in when he was recovering from the risky play made by Ace just to get the Ninja Buckle, judging from the log of users at the entrance of the room that showed Kamen Rider Tycoon's core ID logo.

"Call me if you need anything, Sara-sama."

Sara only nodded before she sobbed herself to sleep, muffling her voice with the pillow already in the room.

--------

Sara woke up hours later. It was already three in the morning on the 25th of August, judging from the time and date that was said on her phone.

"You didn't make it to your 23rd birthday, Keiwa." Sara whispered to herself as she made her way back to the lounge of the salon only to be greeted by Tsumuri right by the lounge's entrance.

"Sara-sama! You're awake!"

Sara was confused as to why Tsumuri was dragging her to the lounge, only to be greeted by everyone's sleeping forms from Daichi-kun to her brother, even Ace-sama was with everyone.

Everyone was sleeping soundly on the floor.

"Is Keiwa?" Sara had to make sure.

"Yes, Ace-sama arrived just in time to stop Sueru from killing Keiwa-sama." Tsumuri whispered gladly.

"Say, Tsumuri-san, does this place have an oven, it's Keiwa's birthday today."

"It is?" Tsumuri smiled with excitement. "I'll show you where the kitchen is, Keiwa-sama has also made use of the kitchen when he was living here with Daichi-sama and Sae-sama."

"Really? Lead the way, Tsumuri-san!

---------

"Heh, so it's Tycoon's birthday today."

Sara had just briefed everyone on why there was a cake on the bar's counter. She had just revealed to everyone that this was a celebration of Keiwa's birthday, as much as it was a celebration of their victory against Sueru.

"If…" Neon trailed off as she realized something in horror.

"It wasn't permanent, so we're not going to think about that." Ace immediately shut down Neon's train of thought. "We should be celebrating his birthday and our victory."

"You're right," Neon smiled. "What do you have in mind?"

"Sara-san and nee-san – "

"I'm not your nee-san."

"– already did everything for us, I'd suggest we decorate the place, but we're all still sore from the fight yesterday." Ace hummed.

"Why don't you just change clothes then you'll hide somewhere?" Sara suggested. "Then we can start the celebration after he wakes up."

"How is he still asleep?" Michinaga questioned.

"Whenever he's so tired, he sometimes needs someone to wake him up." Sara smiled fondly. "He's gotten good at waking up by himself even when he's tired the previous day, the fight must've taken a lot out of him."

"You saw the fight?" Neon squeaked in alarm.

"I couldn't bring myself to watch the entire thing as soon as I saw Keiwa getting choked by your enemy." Sara admitted.

Michinaga and Neon looked at each other as if having a silent agreement, at least that is what Sara determined was happening.

"Ace-sama, please hide the cake for the time being, I kind of want to surprise him when he wakes up."

"Sure thing."

--------

"Nee-chan?" Sara heard her brother call out.

"I'm here, Keiwa" Sara announced her presence.

"Wai- What are you doing he-" Keiwa immediately sat up in alarm.

"Calm down, Keiwa!" Sara immediately approached her brother. "Tsumuri-san called me and wanted me here, so I'm here."

"O-oh."

"You and your tendency to assume the worst." Sara sighed. "Lighten up a little, it's your birthday."

"A-ah! Right." Keiwa sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "Right," A small smile graced his face. "I made it to 23."

"So birthday boy, you better clean up after yourself and change your clothes so we can go home and have a small celebration between us."

"Hai~!" Keiwa agreed.

Suddenly, Keiwa realized he didn't know where the others were.

"Everyone?"

"They all woke up before you, so they already went home."

"I see." Keiwa nodded.

---------

With a fresh green polo with black and white stripes, brown pants, and a pair of white sneakers, Keiwa entered the lounge, fully prepared to go home with his sister.

"Surprise!"

The exclamation startled Keiwa to the point that he jumped a bit from the surprise.

"Happy Birthday, Keiwa!" Everyone announced as his sister approached him, cake in hand.

"Happy Birthday, Keiwa." A huge smile graced the siblings' faces before Keiwa closed his eyes and blew out the flames of the candle on top of the cake.

"What did you wish for?" Neon asked.

"If I told you, it wouldn't come true." Keiwa deflected.

"I'm hurt, you forgot all about me." Ace mock pouted at the birthday boy.

"Yeah, no." Keiwa stuck his tongue out. "Not happening, Ace."

"What's the harm, we've got our kami-sama here to grant your wish." Win placed an arm over the birthday boy's shoulders.

"Well," Everyone listened to Keiwa's wish attentively. "I wish I become an idol."

"But, Keiwa, you already are an idol," Neon hummed. "Technically speaking at least."

"Eh? Really?"

"A lot of people saw your fight against Kekera, or at least that's what I'm seeing online," Neon stated. "Saying how good of an actor you were to fool your opponent."

"Heh, you want to be a star like me, Tycoon?" Ace smirked. "I can send someone from my agency to scou-"

"No, no, no!" Keiwa immediately frantically declined the suggestion. "It was just a joke, a joke!"

"You're already famous, sooner or later someone's going to scout you with or without my intervention."

"No, just no."

"So what did you wish for?"

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you can achieve it, if you just believe."

Keiwa nodded.

"For this," Keiwa gestured at everyone in the room, and the happy faces it gave him, barring Michinaga and Daichi who were smirking. "To last long and for a world where everyone is happy."

Ace smiled at the wish.

"And we'll continue to fight for this to last long," Ace declared. "And strive for the world where everyone is happy."

Everyone nodded.

"Happy Birthday, Tycoon." Ace made a fox gesture with his right hand and poked it at Keiwa's forehead.

"Happy Birthday, Keiwa!" Neon giggled as she planted a kiss on the birthday boy's left cheek.

Michinaga simply patted his right shoulder and nodded at him.

Win mimicked Michinaga's action but patted Keiwa's left shoulder.

Daichi simply nodded at the birthday boy.

"Happy Birthday, Keiwa-sama." Tsumuri greeted the birthday boy happily before planting a kiss on his right cheek.

"Keiwa, I'm so glad that we got to celebrate your 23rd birthday despite everything we went through!" Sara hugged her brother. "Happy Birthday, Keiwa!"

"Thank you, nee-chan," Keiwa smiled at his sister. "Thank you, everyone!"

"Aside from Tycoon's birthday, this is also in celebration of the victory we secured against Sueru and the people of the future," Ace declared. "Good work, everyone."

"Good work!" Everyone greeted each other.

"Cheers!" Sara exclaimed as she raised her glass of drink.

"Cheers!" Everyone responded and mirrored Sara's actions.

[parchmentmischief]

Competition

Theseus Scamander x reader

Enemies(rivals) to lovers

The head of the Swedish Ministry has sent you, their Head Auror, to track down a dark wizard. The British Ministry happens to have sent an Auror of their own. A very annoying, distractingly handsome one who keeps getting in your way.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

…

“Kalai is not getting away this time,” you mutter to yourself, bored to tears waiting around at one of his usual haunts.

This was the second watery beer you had choked down, trying to look like any other patron of the seedy bar you were in.

Why couldn’t Kalai hang out in upscale restaurants or gardens or something? You’re aware you’re pouting but don’t care enough to stop. It had been hours and nothing had come of your stakeout. Just awful beer and an itchy disguise that smelled too much like sewer water.

The front door opens suddenly, almost slamming into the wall.

In walks Theseus Scamander, Head Auror of the British Ministry of Magic blah blah blah. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. He was not one for subtlety it seems.

Everyone in the bar was watching him now. He was too well known to go walking around in this part of town doing…whatever he was doing unnoticed.

Already you can see wizards in the bar slowly reaching to pull out their wands.

Well, this was a day wasted. You sigh to yourself.

For a moment everything is absolutely silent, then multiple people jump into action.

There are curses being shot everywhere, bouncing off of mirrors and random surfaces in the bar. One whizzes by so close that it singes your hair.

You should send Theseus a bill.

You slide off of your stool to sit cross legged on the ground, tilting your wand and easily stunning patron after patron, all of them falling like dominoes. You’re lucky they’re all drunk, none of them even seem to see you from your position.

Well, not quite lucky enough. You’re forced to stand to stun someone reaching over the bar to grab you.

You stun someone drawing back to cast a hex at Theseus, spinning on your heel to stun a man approaching you with a knife. Rude.

You turn again, coming face to face with the end of a wand.

Theseus.

His expression is one of anger. Well, that makes two of you.

“You just ruined days of work for me, Mr. Scamander.” An exaggeration? Only a little, if you counted the hours you spent researching the places Kalai often resides.

This seems to throw him for a second, his wand lowering minutely. It’s enough for you to reposition your own wand, now aimed directly at his solar plexus should he try anything stupid like stunning you.

“Do we know each other?” He asks, his voice more accusatory than anything.

You huff, pulling off your disguise. “Indeed. You’re Head Auror for the British Ministry, yes? I’m Head Auror of the Swedish Ministry. I’m here tracking a dark wizard and I would appreciate if you would lower your wand.”

“And which dark wizard would that be?” he asks, not lowering his wand even a little.

You want to roll your eyes. Professionalism be damned.

“Vincent Kalai.”

His eyes narrow further. “What does the Swedish Ministry of Magic want with Vincent Kalai?”

“Why is that important for you to know? Look, my credentials are in my pocket, you can verify who I am just please would you lower your want out of my face? You’re being awfully rude.”

He does lower his wand at that. “Vincent Kalai falls under our jurisdiction, there’s no reason for you to be here.”

“He murdered an entire wizard family in Sweden, he falls under our jurisdiction just fine.” Maybe you should hex him, just so he’ll stop saying stupid things. “And I hope you’re happy,” you huff. “Regardless, there’s no way Kalai will be coming back here any time soon. Thanks for ruining my stakeout.”

…

Author’s Note: I’m hoping to keep this to 3 parts! I will update the links at the top as I add parts to this fic.

Taglist: @generousrunawaydonut @yournewmommy (unable to tag ur user?) @wanaexe

[rafescoke]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her. 

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill. 

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up. 

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her. 

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?” 

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting. 

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck. 

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes. 

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after. 

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

-

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[varietaltiger23]

Idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc idc

All tokyo revengers men can be bottoms. And here is how I view them as bottoms.

This talks about/contains : sub and Dom relationship, dildos and cocks, this is two parts of using dildos or using cocks cause some people have cocks and use them to fuck, pain play, knife kink, blood kink, crying kink, pulling hair, name calling, use of toys and cock rings, edging, this is filthy filthy smut, also some parts are for my black women/men/in-between and poc in general just to make sure I make that clear since differenthair texture and being mixed, any bold names are characters that fit more than one category, like this is some freak shit that I pulled from the darkest corner of my mind, you have been warned.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

This is for dildo and strap users, love yall 💗

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Draken, hanma, ran, rindou, kisaki, hakkai, smiley, taiju, South, inui/inup, peh yan, kakucho, kazutora, mucho, mocchi

Slap him, choke him, make him cry.

He wants to be treated differently than he is by others.

Like everyone is intimidated by this man but you have him sobbing and begging on his knees for you to slap him and call him a bad boy.

If you have heels or boots then he will run his cock against it while telling you how much of a bad boy he has been.

Touching himself without permission and even shoving his favorite dildo or stap up his ass while waiting for you.

And saying how you should fuck him until he goes unconscious and continue to fuck him until he wakes up again.

He wants to be used like the whore he is and doesn't want you to pull any punches, lashes, or kicks. He wants it all.

I'm sorry to say but some of these men have a piss kink.

Pee on him and he will be whipped

For aftercare you gotta force this man cause he just wants to sit in the after glow of it all. But does want you to whisper how much you love him and how good he was.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Mikey, takemichi, chifuyu, peh yan, pah chin, angry, hakkai, mistuya, kisaki, koko, kakucho, kazutora, mucho, mocchi, rindou, izana

Honestly a brat or a prince type of situation.

Like he acts bratty when you won't drop everything and fuck him but when you interrupt his playtime cause now you have the time to fuck him senseless now he wants to throw tantrums.

Please after one whopping or even when you count he'll stop and beg for forgiveness cause he didn't mean it honestly.

Loves to be worshiped and praised. Won't stand for anything less unless getting punishment then he wants to be called everyname in the book.

He touched your new braids/weave after they just got done cause he want to make you mad and even undid one.

He couldn't walk or talk for a week after that cause you went in on his ass.

Has a favorite vibrator and will even put it in himself then hand you the remote for you to do what you want.

Likes playing dress up and has a mini crown that you fuck him in for his birthday, holidays, or he was feeling down and you wanted to remind him that he's your prince.

Will whisper I love you before going to sleeps after sex.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Ran, hanma, taiju, sanzu, smiley, mikey, koko, kazutora, izana, chifuyu, mistuya

Honestly tie him to a table and leave him there.

Or bring in people to look at your desperate slut.

He likes making you hella jealous and gets off on it.

He loves when you bring that person he was flirting with at the bar into the backroom where he's tied down to a table with a vibrator in his ass, on his dick, and taped to his nipples.

While having a machine fuck him and a gag in his mouth. Once he sees the person, he almost came if only you didn't have a cock ring on him.

Have a gangbang where either strangers or not fuck him while you watch and call him a dirty whore but only allow him to cum when you fuck him.

Rub ice cubes all over him with a blind fold on.

Use a knife and cut you intals on him then is it's a body part that can reach his mouth make him lick it.

Ignore him for days while having a vibrator around his dick and only let him cum when he is deep throating your strap.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Cock people. welcome, welcome please sit down and enjoy 💖

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Draken, hanma, ran, rindou, kisaki, hakkai, smiley, taiju, South, inui/inup, peh yan, kakucho, kazutora, mucho, mocchi

Slap him, choke him, make him cry.

He wants to be treated differently than he is by others.

Like everyone is intimidated by this man but you have him sobbing and begging on his knees for you to slap him and call him a bad boy.

If you have heels or boots then he will run his cock against it while telling you how much of a bad boy he has been.

Also please chain him up or tie him up like a turkey for Thanksgiving. He loves those handcuffs and that satin ribbon.

Touching himself without permission and even shoving his favorite dildo or your dick up his ass while waiting for you.

And saying how you should fuck him until he goes unconscious and continue to fuck him until he wakes up again.

He wants to be used like the whore he is and doesn't want you to pull any punches, lashes, or kicks. He wants it all.

I'm sorry to say but some of these men have a piss kink. So sorry

Piss in or on him and he is whipped.

For aftercare you gotta force this man cause he just wants to sit in the after glow of it all. But does want you to whisper how much you love him and how good he was.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Mikey, takemichi, chifuyu, peh yan, pah chin, angry, hakkai, mistuya, kisaki, koko, kakucho, kazutora, mucho, mocchi, rindou, izana

Honestly a brat or a prince type of situation.

Like he acts bratty when you won't drop everything and fuck him but when you interrupt his playtime cause now you have the time to fuck him senseless now he wants to throw tantrums.

Please after one whopping or even when you count he'll stop and beg for forgiveness cause he didn't mean it honestly.

Loves to be worshiped and praised. Won't stand for anything less unless getting punishment then he wants to be called everyname in the book.

He touched your new/redone braids/weave/dreads/waves after they just got done cause he want to make you mad and even undid one.

He couldn't walk or talk for a week after that cause you went in on his ass.

Has a favorite vibrator and will even put it in himself then hand you the remote for you to do what you want.

Likes playing dress up and has a mini crown that you fuck him in for his birthday, holidays, or he was feeling down and you wanted to remind him that he's your prince.

Will whisper I love you before going to sleeps after sex.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Ran, hanma, taiju, sanzu, smiley, mikey, koko, kazutora, izana, chifuyu, mistuya

Honestly tie him to a table and leave him there.

Or bring in people to look at your desperate slut.

He likes making you hella jealous and gets off on it.

He loves when you bring that person he was flirting with at the bar into the backroom where he's tied down to a table with a vibrator in his ass, on his dick, and taped to his nipples.

While having a machine fuck him and a gag in his mouth. Once he sees the person, he almost came if only you didn't have a cock ring on him.

Have a gangbang where either strangers or not fuck him while you watch and call him a dirty whore but only allow him to cum when you fuck him.

Rub ice cubes all over him with a blind fold on.

Use a knife and cut you intals on him then is it's a body part that can reach his mouth make him lick it.

Ignore him for days while having a vibrator around his dick and only let him cum when he is deep throating your dick.

‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐‐

Hello, congratulations on reading the whole thing and um hope you enjoy my dirty thoughts that will now go back into the chest of no touching. Also I reached the 30 tag limit lol

[0alix0]

What always bugged me about Arcann’s friendship and romance is that his and Outlander’s relationships are barely presented. How to put it correctly... they practically have nothing in common in order to develop trust / attachment especially in a pretty short time (despite our headcanons of course)... Except for maybe one person.

So uhh... Valkorion is capable of showing himself to other people, right? Most likely even at his own wish, and he already showed himself to Arcann in chapter 6 of the kotet. Ok, great. So... let's just modify that scene a little. As usual, Arcann break into the ceremony, Vaylin escapes, the Outlander says that they can work together, and of course Valkorion appears to taunt his own son.

But the Outlander is like... so fkn tired of all his crap already so they just tell him to shut up. Valkorion becomes angry. And those two start to bicker. Arcann watches all this with some kind of stupor, like... there’s just some random from another world (maybe even non-force user, probably traumatized as hell) tries to shout down the ghost of THE IMMORTAL fucking EMPEROR in their fucking head. And at one point he accidentally tunes into this wave of idiotic absurdity, so to the next barb of Valkorion, instead of anger or humility, Arcann simply quietly sneers in response, like:

“I didn’t raise my son to serve”

“…… that’s a pretty strong word you use”

And Outlander just fucking wheezes. And before Valkorion has time to answer something, Outlander intervenes and begins to actively defend Arсann because they both are just so fed up with Valkorion's bullshit.

Then Arcann joins the Alliance and this shit goes on FOR WEEKS. These bitches teams up to mess with him in front of everyone. Valkorion appears during the briefing and tries to influence the Outlander's decision? Arcann says that Valkorion was fucking blond. Valkorion shows up during their sparring to disparage his son for his disability? The Outlander begins to sing the analogue of the cosmic kumbaya. The chaos reaches such an extent that after several days Arcann feels comfortable enough to tell them a couple of shitty stories from his childhood (in order to simultaneously speak out and abstract himself with humor), and the Outlander retells him all the manipulative shit Valkorian said earlier. They were literally united by a common hatred and salt to a one shitty single person. And at some point Valkorion gets so pissed off HE STOPS SHOWING HIMSELF WHEN THEY’RE TOGETHER cuz those two? THOSE TWO LITERALLY WON'T LISTEN TO HIM! Like. They don't even argue anymore. Every time he says something they just stop for a second, silently listen to Valkorion’s speech and began to randomly larf at every goddamn word. So if Valkorion actually needs to speak to Outlander he does it only in private. 

AND EVEN THEN every goddamn time they have a chat outlander just runs through the entire base, bursts into Arcann's room, already choking with laughter, like "Arcann you have no fucking idea what that dickhead said again."

So yeah, just Outlander and Arcann teams up to bully Valkorion :т

[sukirichi]

total opposites

You and Toge swap bodies after encountering a fairytale curse, and similar to its origin, it also takes a fairytale method to break it.

REQUEST. body swap au + best friends to lovers

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight crack fic, some cursing, implications of nsfw but nothing explicit, just Toge being a not-so closet pervert, usual best friend bickering, reader is fem bodied, unedited story (I should stop saying this, everyone knows I don’t edit my stuff)

NOTES. I enjoyed writing this, tysm for the request anon, this was really cute! definitely this is shooting up in one of my fav works ever (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

You stretched your arms overhead, feeling great after sleeping in. It wasn’t common of you to sleep this late, but you and Toge had gone stargazing the night before. A smile made its way to your face as you reminisced him reciting rice ball ingredients, signing that he was telling poetry to ‘match the mood’ until you’d both fallen asleep on the soft blanket atop a hill.

You don’t remember how you made it back to your room, but figured that Toge had carried you back home before the sun rose. Making a mental note to thank your best friend later, you yawned as you padded out to your room, hands rubbing in circles at your stomach.

Hopefully breakfast would be amazing today.

The door next to you opened, revealing your younger classmate, and you frowned, because wasn’t Kugisaki your next door neighbour? Well, whatever, he, Yuuji, and Kugisaki might’ve taken advantage of the rare, peaceful weekend that they probably had a movie marathon the night before.

“Morning, Megumi!” you greeted, coughing a bit when you sounded off, throat a little horse and itchy. At the sound of your voice, Megumi stilled in his tracks, eyes wide at you. His comical expression had you barking in laughter, shooting finger guns his way as you wiggled your eyebrows. “Ey, be a good dog and bark for me, will you?”

Semi-visible sonic waves drifted like waves after one another out your mouth. Megumi scowled before he froze the next second, ears perked up and backside wagging in replacement of a tail. “Woof woof!”

“What the hell?” you reeled back in slight disgust, your underclassman’s cheeks burning red. Then, your lips grazed against a soft cloth, making you look down.

You blinked back once. Twice. You were definitely...built different today. Curiously, you tugged at the zipper peaking out from your black collar, the familiar zhoop sound of the zipper burned into your memory after hearing your best friend do it countless times before.

In front of you, Megumi screeched – the most noise he’d made ever since you met him – his jaw dropped open while you – or rather Toge stood at the end of the hallway, his hands squeezing at your breasts that were still under last night’s pyjamas. You blinked back once. Then twice, steam pouring from your nose when Toge, in your body, pointed at his body. 

“Oh, oh!” your scream bounced off the hallways hard enough that Panda slammed his door open, about to tell everyone to shut up when your voice let out a high-pitched scream.

“What are you doing in my body?!”

Looking down at where Toge was pointing, you were greeted by the sight of his dark uniform and sock clad feet, your chest replaced with hard muscles instead of the soft flesh. You turned to Toge with a stupefied look that mirrored his, both of you falling on the ground with fists pounding on the hardwood floor.

“I’m a fucking girl!” he cried out, whether out of happiness or frustration, it was hard to tell.

Meanwhile, you zipped his collar back up, tugging at his off-white hair as you forced yourself to remember his limited vocabulary. “BONITO FLAKES!”

Now you understood Toge’s frustration of being a cursed speech user. 

“Bonito Flakes” definitely did not hold the same fury as “FUCK” did.

“You and I need to set down some boundaries,” you signed to him, brows pulled together. Toge seemed to be enjoying this sudden body swap a lot more than you did since he hadn’t stopped posing in the mirror the moment you pushed him back to your room, locking it shut to get some privacy. “You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to shower, do you understand?”

Toge scowled at your words, sassy as ever with his hands placed on his hips, buttocks jutted out. You hated, absolutely hated that he used your body this way because this time you couldn’t even laugh – not when seeing your body felt this awkward.

“You would really rather me stink?”

“You can’t undress too! Ever! Or if you will, your eyes better be closed. No peeking too!”

“Y/N, you and I grew up together. I’ve already seen everything,” he rolled his eyes, earning him a hard slap from the arm. Considering he was a lot more muscular than you were, your hit came a lot harder. “Ow!” he protested, rubbing the sore spot that ached, only to laugh at the sounds emitting from his lips. “Wow, I have to admit that this is really fun though. I’m actually talking,” he announced, “Hey, say salmon for me.”

“Bonito flakes!” you shook your head, “The moment Principal Yaga is back, we’re going to talk to him, okay? I don’t want to be stuck in your body any longer!”

“Please, you’re lucky you get to feel me up,” he winked at you, taking your (his) hands to flatten it on his stomach. “Come on, come on, feel my abs!” Whack. “Would you please stop slapping me? Your body is a lot more delicate than mine and my hands are – stop slapping me!”

Feeling bad for your friend and not wanting to abuse your body too much, you raised your hands in surrender with a roll of your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously with that voice. You’re too cute.”

“Complimenting ourselves now, aren’t we?” he scoffed, “Well, whatever, you are cute, especially when you’re angry. Such a shame I can’t see you do that right now because my handsome face is looking back at me.”

“I won’t hesitate to choke you, my friend.”

“You wouldn’t. You adore your body too much,” contrary to his words, Toge pulled a defensive stance. You threw a pillow at him, to which he easily dodged, clutching at the hem of your pyjamas afterwards. “Speaking of bodies, I really need to pee.”

“Hold it!”

“Are you insane? I’m not holding it, you’re going to kill us both!”

“Fine, I’ll take you to the rest room then,” you tugged at the hood of your shirt, pushing him inside the communal female restroom. Toge stood in the middle shock still, evidently flustered at the stalls and lack of urinals. You flicked a finger on his forehead, finger pointed to a stall. “Go pee. That’s my body – I need to make sure you’re not going to do anything weird with it.”

“I thought you trusted me, friend. Why would you think I’d touch you that way?”

You gave him an ‘are you serious?’ look. “You jack off every fucking night, Toge. I can hear you even from the next hallway. Plus, you’re a horny teenage male, who’s to say you wouldn’t be curious and try to see what female masturbation feels like?”

His eyes lit up at the idea, fist coming down to bounce at the palm of his hand as he nodded. “That’s actually a good idea—”

“Don’t you even dare.”

“What?!” you and Toge both exclaimed. He faced you with utter horror written on his face and you gasped, slapping both palms over your lips.

“It is true,” Principal Yaga affirmed with a grim look on his face. He’d recently got back to fetch your troublesome Gojo-Sensei who’d been caught starting a ruckus in Roponggi while women flocked around him, leading to your principal to haul his ass back to the school grounds. “Some curses are manifested through daily objects, and sometimes even through nature. That shooting star you saw was an example of that.”

“But is kissing really necessary?” Toge queried with a wary gaze sent your way.

“It’s a fairytale curse. It can only be broken through a true love’s kiss.”

“But sir, Toge and I have never dated anyone before. How can we miraculously fall in love with someone to break this curse overnight?”

“It doesn’t have to happen overnight. Sometimes, a simple crush will do,” Principal Yaga sighed, scratching his bald head with his face pulled deep in thought. “Y/N, you have a crush on Gojo-Sensei right? I’m going to kill him if he actually kisses you – and knowing that damn brat he might if you ask him – but I think a kiss on the cheek will suffice. For now, you both just have to...broaden your relationships. Maybe go out on dates.”

“I don’t mind that. In fact, I’m going to have the time of my life,” Toge cheered, his mood dampening once he saw you stiffen. “But my body is...”

Knowing full well that he’d get insecure over his lack of speech again, you glared at him hard enough that your best friend straightened up, lips puckered out in a pout as if you hadn’t just caught him talking badly about himself again when you’ve told him countless times he was perfectly fine the way he was.

It made you sigh, feeling slightly bad that until now he still couldn’t see himself the way you saw him – not that you’d ever vocalize this; Toge would never shut up (in the best way he could) if he had the slightest idea what went inside your head.

“You’re lucky you have a pretty face. Otherwise, it’s going to be impossible for anyone to like you,” you teased instead, somewhat flustered at your indirect compliment.

Toge merely scoffed at you, his gaze burning and hard, contrasting the teasing little shit grin he wore. “Oh, please, if I wasn’t the cursed speech user, I would’ve banged—”

“Kids!” Principal Yaga threw his dolls at you hard, the both of you clutching at your heads in pain. How were those dolls as heavy as rocks? “Take your bickering back to your rooms please. No more of this mess and noise. It’s late.”

You frowned at the old man, face pleading as you signed, “Principal Yaga, can’t we really do anything else? Aren’t there any techniques to undo this?”

You and Toge knew that combination so well – pitch black eyes, jaw clenched, lips pursed and palms interlaced under his chin – one that meant his words were final and irrevocable. None of you could argue or suggest more solutions the moment the words left his lips like an ultimate decree. “The technique is the kiss. Now leave.”

You and Toge tried, you both really did. 

But following Principal Yaga’s suggestion of dating others had turned out to be a complete fail – even with your normal body and Toge’s physical charisma. 

It simply didn’t work; not when Megumi ran away from you every time you tried to get him to kiss you with your arms wide open, and Toge wasn’t helping either by pushing Gojo-Sensei away from you every time the cheeky eyed teacher announced his willingness to help.

Eventually, you and your best friend had retired in his room, the scent of him coated all over his pillows and his shirt that you wore. That felt comforting, at least, and you buried yourself in the crook of your body’s neck, bodies tangled with one another.

Who knew dating could be so tiring?

A wave of irritation flashed over you from today’s events, knowing full well that this could’ve been avoided long ago. Scowling, you cuddled Toge closer, lightly flicking your fingers on your body’s chest. “This is your damn fault, Toge.”

“You were the one who asked me to stargaze with you.”

“You don’t always have to say no to everything I ask of you, you know.”

“You’re really dumber than I thought if you think I could easily say no to you,” he snorted above you, his chin resting atop your head. “I don’t have a lot of weakness because I’m a strong sorcerer—” another flick, a harsher one this time around. “Okay, okay, I’m just kidding! But I mean it though – you’re my best friend and my weakness. Of course I’d do anything to make you happy, even if it’s something as stupid as stargazing.”

“Hey!” you made a sound of protest in your throat, looking back at him with a frown. “It wasn’t stupid, it was romantic.”

Hell yeah, it was romantic indeed – your heart still skipped a beat every time you remembered Toge’s starry eyes matching the night sky’s beauty, the words salmon and mustard leaf surprisingly sexy every time it came from him. It was stupid – so fucking stupid – that you groaned into his chest to hide your flushed face.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.”

The room fell silent, your syncopated breathing soothing during this stressful times. Taking advantage of your voice, Toge began to hum, singing the songs you both had always listened to in the privacy of your room during lazy days. It brought a smile to your face as you clutched to him tighter, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed up at him, tapping his chin to get his attention. “Toge, can I say something weird?”

“Please, nothing you say surprises me anymore. Shoot.”

Your mouth began to dry as you cleared your throat in an attempt to hide your awkwardness, gaze pointedly averted from his prying ones. “You and I...we’ve known each other for a long time and we love each other. As best friends, of course.”

“Sheesh, friendzone much?”

“Would you please shut up and listen to me seriously for once?” you huffed, making him snicker, but nodded at you anyway to continue. “As I was saying – why don’t we kiss? It could be true love’s kiss.”

Toge didn’t speak for a good minute, the pregnant pause filling in the gap filled with tension. You taped his cheek, waving his hand in front of his eyes when he dazed out. When his gaze focussed back on you, Toge was surprisingly calm – although beneath that composed exterior, his mind had simply short-circuited. “If this is your way to get to make out with me, I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Toge, I’m serious! Let’s kiss!”

“I don’t want to!” he shook his head indignantly, hiding his face by hugging you close to his chest instead.

“Why not? Don’t you want to swap back to your original body? Both of us haven’t showered in two days and I’m sick of the way you smell. You’re lucky I love you though, otherwise I’m going to cry. Come on, Toge, what’s holding you back?” you tried to fight back from his grip, but he’d surprised you both when he only squeezed you tighter, both your erratic heart rates matching the other.

“I said no.”

“Toge, it’s just a damn kiss, what’re you so afraid of?”

“I’m afraid that if we don’t swap back, then that means you don’t love me the way I love you!” he finally admitted, breathing hard before continuing. “Principal Yaga said it must be a kiss between lovers and not just platonic friends okay?” you attempted to scramble away from his arms again, and this time he let you, though he’d closed his eyes, cheek squished on the pillows as he murmured, “I don’t want you to reject me... even though I messed up already.”

“Wait,” you snapped your fingers to make him open his eyes, hesitant as you signed, “You...you love me that way?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because my face is staring back at me and it’s fucking awkward – I wanted to see your face when I confessed!” he sat up with a frustrated groan, childishly kicking off the sheets of the bed as he clutched his head in his hands. “I had everything planned, okay? Nobara and Yuuji helped me think of everything because Megumi is shit when it comes to love. Listen, I was going to ask you on a candlelit date and then maybe kiss the life out of you – if you feel the same way—”

“Kiss me.” The body he possessed a victim of his own powers, Toge was left with no choice but to grab your face before his mouth pressed against yours, fingers entangled into the other’s hair. You were smiling into the kiss the whole time, barely able to recognize when Toge had shifted your bodies until you were under him, his hands running down your sides lovingly the whole time. 

Pulling away to get some air, you opened your eyes, unsurprised when Toge laid above you, his strong arms planted beside your head.

Both of you were breathing hard from the passionate kiss filled with so much sexual tension and longing, your tongue darting out to swipe at his taste on your lips. The laughter that bubbled out of you was pure, wholesome and swollen like your heart. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Salmon!” Toge peppered your cheeks with kisses, pulling out more gleeful laughter from you, his playful and loving attacks more of a gift than a punishment. Once you’d recovered from your happiness – although really, who could recover after that? – Toge unzipped his collar, his smile nothing but wicked when he commanded, “Kiss me again.”

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Big brother Merlin Part 2

Arthur forces himself to consider things from a different perspective, and everyone loves Merlin’s (new) baby brother.

Part 1   Part 3(final part)

TW: Physical parental abuse, tiny bit of blood. Uther being a dick (a warning in itself).

I feel like Uther straight up doesn’t even consider that Mordred might be the Druid child.

Perhaps the first time he sees him following Merlin around like a shadow, he does a double take, but quietly asks Morgana and Arthur, who are sharing a meal with him, why there is a child here.

Arthur chokes on his food, but Morgana just rolls her eyes, answering with ease:

“Oh, that’s Mordred, Merlin’s baby brother, he’s come to live in the city with him. I’m surprised, did Gaius not mention it?”

The King frowns and shakes his head, grumbling:

“Hmm. No he didn’t. Is the boy staying in their quarters?”

Morgana rolls her eyes again, more obviously this time:

“Yes, Mordred is staying in their quarters-”

She puts on her patented desperate expression, and places a soft hand on Uther’s on the table:

“-I don’t suppose you could talk to the Steward about upping Gaius or Merlin’s pay slightly? It’s only, Mordred came here for a better life because him and his mother were struggling in their poor village, and I know Gaius and Merlin would never ask for such a thing themselves.”

Uther hums lowly, but a tilted head from Morgana, and a quiet agreement from Arthur, have him huffing and nodding slightly:

“Fine. But only out of respect for Gaius, a long time, loyal friend. I expect not to be hounded for charity every time a member of staff has a child, or gets a new puppy.”

Morgana smirks victoriously, and nods:

“Of course, thank you Uther, I know this will mean a great deal to them. You truly are a benevolent King.”

Uther smirks back at her, knowing full well she’s just stroking his ego, and Arthur rolls his eyes at their antics. Some days, it feels like Morgana is more related to Uther than he himself is.

~

I imagine that, as a Druid, Mordred is definitely not used to the Big City way of things.

Gwen, Morgana, and Merlin help him as best they can, but Mordred is an anxious boy by nature, and being in such a foreign environment doesn’t help. Busy crowds and large, looming stone walls are not what he grew up with.

Merlin is the most help, having experienced the exact same thing when he first came to Camelot, and whilst Mordred had been attached to Merlin before, as his saviour, as a fellow magic user, as Emrys, he becomes even more so over the weeks following his release from the Physician’s chambers.

He follows Merlin practically everywhere, never more than a foot behind him, normally gripping the back of his tunic tightly. Merlin insisted that he stay behind when he went to wake Arthur, and when he put him to bed (which Mordred always pouted at), but allowed him to follow everywhere else (bar patrols and hunts of course, Mordred was always left with Guinevere or Morgana when that happened).

Arthur was incredibly freaked out about it at first; turning around to insult Merlin, only to have to stop in his tracks because there was a small child holding his manservant’s hand, but he soon got used to it.

(He secretly became quite fond of the boy, not that he would ever say that out-loud.)

Arthur would also keep trying to bring up Merlin’s words from when he had first been introduced to Mordred. Trying to extract Merlin’s opinions on magic, or Druids, or whether there was magic in Ealdor, if he knew any practicers, but Merlin always refused to reply or changed the subject.

I imagine it would have come to a head when Arthur turned on Mordred, obviously frustrated with Merlin’s lack of willingness on the topic of magic:

“Well, what about you, Mordred? Merlin apparently doesn’t have any opinions, so what do you believe?”

Merlin got angry then, furious even. Arthur knew full well what Mordred was, and disregarded the boy’s obvious fear just because he was annoyed with Merlin. And Merlin wasn’t having that.

The servant turned on the Prince quickly, lips pulled back in a slight snarl as he pushed the other man back with a hand on his shoulder:

“No. You don’t get to ask that, you don’t get to put him in that position. Perhaps you should try forming your own opinions for once, instead of copying your father’s, or leeching off of other people’s-”

Arthur slaps Merlin’s hand away, squaring his shoulders with a look of anger on his face:

“You forget who you’re speaking to Merlin, I will not-”

Merlin interrupts him, fixing him with the same vicious stare that Arthur had backed down from all those weeks ago:

“What you will not do, is force my brother to self-incriminate just so you can run to daddy to have him burnt when you get answers that you don’t like.”

Arthur’s face falls at that, and he once again backs down from Merlin’s stare, a look of shock and realisation on his face at the true impact of his questions to Mordred.

He nods, almost imperceptibly, and Merlin takes a step back, relaxing slightly, though still tense as he blindly reaches behind him for Mordred’s hand:

“I told you Arthur, there is nothing I won’t do to protect him. Even from you.”

With that, the servant leaves the room, a nervous and teary Mordred hot on his tails.

When they finally get back to their room, Merlin slams the door behind him, but immediately regrets it when he sees Mordred flinch out of the corner of his eyes.

The servant takes a deep breath, before turning to the anxious boy, a soft smile on his face:

“I’m sorry Mordred, you haven’t done anything wrong, I promise. I’m just frustrated with Arthur, I shouldn’t have slammed the door or rushed off like that.”

Mordred lets out a breath, and nods, returning Merlin’s smile with a shaky one of his own. Merlin opens his arms for a hug, but doesn’t move towards the boy, allowing Mordred to decide. He decides fairly quickly, dropping his smile and surging forward to grip Merlin’s middle tightly. Merlin clenches his jaw and rubs a gentle hand up his brother’s back soothingly.

Mordred’s mumbled question almost breaks Merlin’s heart:

“Would Arthur build me a pyre? If he knew I could do magic?”

Merlin knows that Mordred is just as fond of the Prince as the Prince is of him, and Merlin doesn’t want to upset him, but in such a precarious situation, he doesn’t want to lie, or give him false hope. He sighs:

“I honestly don’t know. I’d like to think not, I do think he’s questioning his father’s views on magic, but I also know that Arthur has a quick temper, and he tends to act without thought when he’s emotional. He can act a little rashly sometimes, can lash out when he doesn’t mean to.”

He can feel Mordred nod against his chest, but looks down as he looks up:

“A bit like you did just now?”

Merlin smiles slightly, before kneeling down and holding Mordred’s shoulders softly:

“Yeah, a bit. I could’ve been a little less physical, but I don’t regret what I said at all, I meant it. I really would do anything to keep you safe, even if it’s from The King and his prat son.”

Mordred giggles slightly, and Merlin considers that a win, winking at him cheekily before standing up again, taking his hand:

“Come on, Morgana said she and Gwen were going shopping this afternoon, want to go see if they’ll allow us to join?”

At Mordred’s eager nod (he really does love the girls), Merlin laughs again and scoops him up into his arms, running in the direction of the Lady Morgana’s chambers.

~

Things are a little tense between Merlin and Arthur for a few days after that.

Merlin acts like the perfect servant, all “Sire”s and “Yes, My Lord”s and a lot of bowing. Morgana notices of course (mainly, she notices Merlin’s sudden interest in keeping Mordred away from the Prince) and pulls Arthur aside, demanding to know exactly what happened.

He tells her, because he can never resist her forceful stare for long, and Morgana has to stop herself from giving him a resounding smack.

At her look of fury, Arthur sighs:

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I was way out of line. How do I fix it?”

Morgana rolls her eyes and huffs, annoyed:

“Well, have you tried actually apologising? Or are you doing that thing where you wholly fuck something up and then just sweep it under the rug in the hopes that it will go away? What you’ve done, is convince that little boy that he isn’t safe with you, that you could kill him in a fit of rage if he slips up. No amount of ignoring that will make it go away. Can’t you imagine how terrified he is? He’s stuck here. In Camelot. As a... as what he is.”

Arthur sighs, slumping against the wall of the alcove Morgana had pulled them in to, rubbing his eyes tiredly (he never sleeps well when he and Merlin argue, something he refuses to admit, or even acknowledge):

“Yeah, I’ll... I’ll go to speak to them-”

He looks up to see Morgana with a raised eyebrow, and her hands on her hips:

“-I don’t suppose you know what their favourite foods are do you?”

She smirks slightly, and raises her eyebrow even impossibly higher:

“They’re both pretty fond of sweet fruits: blueberries, strawberries, things like that. Merlin never really had them where he grew up, and Mordred misses them from where he grew up.”

Arthur nods, going to leave, but Morgana grabs his wrist, and he turns around, meeting her stare:

“How is it that I know more about your best friend, the man you have an undeniable crush on, than you do?��

Arthur flushes and pulls his arm from her grip as he growls:

“I am a Prince, I do not have best friends or crushes. Especially on idiot commoners like Merlin.”

With that, he stalks quickly off in the direction of the kitchens, and Morgana steps out into the corridor behind him, smirking at the red of his ears as she yells after him:

“Don’t you know what undeniable means, Arthur?”

He doesn’t look back, just flips a quick bird over his shoulder as he speeds up, and Morgana cackles.

~

Merlin really did try not to laugh whilst Arthur stuttered his way through an apology, the white-knuckle grip he had on a basket filled with fruit becoming more and more funny the more awkward words he forced out of his mouth.

Arthur looks at him expectantly when he finally finishes, and Merlin raises an eyebrow for all of two seconds before he starts laughing at the look of desperation on the Prince’s face:

“Yes, yes, I forgive you, you Clotpole. Mordred? You don’t have to, not right away, not if you don’t want to.”

Merlin looks back at the boy, an encouraging smile on his face as he thinks:

“I mean it. You don’t have to forgive him, though I do think he really means it.”

Mordred nods slightly in Arthur’s direction, and steps forward, leaning his forehead on Arthur’s arm for a few moments before stepping back again. Arthur freezes, having been aware of Mordred’s usual dislike of being touched, but Merlin just smirks and him and nods, and he lets out a breath, muttering under his breath:

“Oh, thank God.”

Mordred giggled, and with that, the three of them squeeze on Merlin’s bed, and share Arthur’s apology fruit.

If Gaius arrived home a few hours later to hear three distinct voices, chatting and laughing on the other side of Merlin’s door, he definitely did not smile fondly to himself, and find another excuse to be out for a few more hours.

~

I suppose that marks the start of something.

Arthur never again mentions magic around Mordred, and finally takes Merlin’s non-answer as an answer in itself.

He suspects why Merlin refuses to voice his opinions, and it’s the same reason he thinks Merlin saved Mordred, those months ago, but he would never say it aloud, he scarcely even allows himself to think it.

But he does almost give Geoffrey a heart attack when he surreptitiously asks if there are any books on magic left, hidden away somewhere.

At the older man’s pale look of terror, Arthur rushes to say:

“For training purposes of course, so I know what to look for and how to destroy it, like a true Camelot knight.”

Geoffrey just raises an eyebrow, incredibly reminiscent of Gaius, before nodding his head, and muttering a quiet, knowing-

“Of course.”

- and showing him a few dusty tomes that had been tucked away in a chest.

Arthur was so determined to not give Merlin or Mordred (who had now resumed following Merlin into Arthur’s chambers) any grief or worry, that he refused to answer when Merlin questioned where he’d been all day.

(It may also be because Merlin was right. Arthur had a habit of just copying whatever his father thought and... he was almost of age. He would be King one day. He needed to learn to think for himself, but like hell was he going to tell Merlin that, at least not yet.)

Arthur spent any free moment he could sat on a dusty armchair at the back of the library, reading about magic and the history of sorcery. Geoffrey kept Arthur’s newfound... curiosity to himself, and in return, Arthur didn’t report him to the King for having illegal books.

Morgana figured it out, because of course she did, but she also kept it to herself. The situation was delicate, and she didn’t want to scare Merlin or Mordred, both of whom she had become increasingly attached to. 

That, and she was curious. 

She wanted to see what conclusions Arthur would come to on his own, without any input from herself (who had always been vehemently against Camelot’s anti-magic mentality), Mordred, who was a Druid boy (and unknown to Arthur, but magic as well), or Merlin, who had saved said Druid boy (and was also, unknown to Arthur, magic).

~

Mordred becomes a common sight around the castle. His big blue eyes, and rare, but adorable smile, had everyone wrapped around his finger. When Merlin’s arms were full of laundry or armour, Mordred would often be found holding the hand of the King’s Ward or her maidservant, and on a few memorable occasions, the Prince.

The guards winked at him in the hallways, and even Cook ruffled his hair and slipped him sweet treats. Most of the knights loved him; it wasn’t often that they got to have fun or take it easy during training, the Prince was quite the drill sergeant, but when little Mordred was there with them, Arthur was always in a much more forgiving mood.

It definitely wasn’t long before a couple of the older knights took Mordred aside one afternoon, and presented him with the smallest training sword they could find. 

Merlin definitely hated that at first, but when Arthur murmured something about how “It might be a good idea if he can protect himself, at least a little.” with a pointed look, he relented, on the one condition that he got time off to train as well. Arthur had dropped the serious look and rolled his eyes at that, but when he noticed Merlin gearing up to give him The Stare (it was on par with Gaius’ Eyebrow at this point) he huffed and agreed.

The Kingdom already loved Merlin; The Pompous Prince’s spunky manservant, who talked back to everyone but Uther, but also remembered everyone’s birthdays and gave away his food and money at the drop of a hat. But having his baby brother trail him everywhere he went, trying his best to help and nervously gripping the older’s tunic, endeared him even more.

Merlin tried his best to keep Mordred away from Uther, but it couldn’t be avoided occasionally, and even the crotchety old King seemed mildly fond of the boy, if a little bewildered.

Merlin has also been entirely avoiding Kilgharrah. The Scaly Old Bastard was just going to complain and be all... cryptic and “Doom and Gloom are coming Young Warlock! Because you didn’t murder a child in cold blood when I heavily implied that you should!” and Merlin... really can’t be bothered to deal with that.

He figures if it’s an absolute emergency, a relevant End-Of-The-World warning, then he’ll tell him. Otherwise, he can just sit and sulk in his roomy cave, and leave Merlin and Mordred alone.

On some days, the servant can completely forget why he kept Mordred with him in the first place. Those are the good days.

On the bad days, all Merlin can see when he looks at the boy whom he now genuinely thinks of as his younger brother, is Arthur’s killer. And it breaks his heart. Because at this point, he might forego destiny altogether, and choose Mordred over Arthur. But that involves abandoning the rest of the magical community, and forfeiting the idea of a Golden Age. Merlin may be the all-powerful Emrys (apparently), but does he really have the authority to choose Mordred over Arthur?

Sometimes he spends hours tossing and turning overnight, coming up with half-baked plans on how to save them both, or heartbreaking justifications on which of them he should save.

Those nights, he has to resist the urge to go down to the cave and scream at Kilgharrah, or track down the closest Druid settlement and demand they take back all the prophecies. Because it isn’t fair; how the world rests on his shoulders, how everyone looks to him for the solution to a problem he barely understands himself.

Merlin of course keeps all of this to himself. Telling Mordred the truth about Arthur’s beliefs on magic was vastly different to telling him that he’s destined to kill the bringer of the Golden Age, and has been for centuries.

And as for Morgana, Merlin loves her, he really does, but she’s ruthless and cunning, and Merlin worries that she would genuinely consider killing Arthur herself, if The Prince didn’t hurry up and change his mind about magic (or even just to save Mordred from having to do it himself).

So Merlin was stuck. Approaching only his seventeenth birthday, with a ward of his own, an idiot Prince to protect, and apparently the world on his shoulders.

~

Eventually, around a year after Mordred first came to Camelot, destiny was re-written a little more... permanently, in the form of Merlin revealing his magic to Arthur.

(Or maybe it happened earlier. Maybe it happened when Merlin first saved Mordred. Maybe it happened before even then. Who really knows?)

Despite Gaius’ warnings, Merlin had been considering telling him for a while. He’d already protected Mordred, by keeping the truth of his identity to himself, and encouraging the boy to learn how to fight.

But the main reason was when Merlin witnessed Arthur stand up to Uther, despite The King’s reputation for violence and aggression when questioned. Thankfully, it wasn’t a public affair; it was after the trial of a farmer accused of using magic. Mordred was being kept in Morgana’s rooms with her and Gwen, to keep him away from it all, and the only ones left in the Throne Room after the man’s sentencing (execution, of course), were The King, Arthur, Merlin, and a few nameless, faceless guards.

There was no proof but the word of another farmer and his young, impressionable son, and the only thing the man had been accused of was enchanting his crops to withstand the recent harsh weather.

Uther was grumbling something about the evils of sorcery, when Arthur looked up from his folded hands, a thoughtful frown on his face:

“Do you not think the sentencing was a little harsh, father?”

Uther looked up at him sharply, thankfully unaware of Merlin’s quiet gasp, knuckles pale and face reddening as he growled:

“In what way, son?”

Arthur cleared his throat, but forced himself not to shrink under The King’s harsh glare:

“Well, there was no hard proof of sorcery, just the misgivings of an irate neighbour.-”

Merlin looks between them with wide eyes, and he can practically feel the tense fear radiating from the remaining guards.

Uther bristles, but doesn’t start screaming just yet, so Arthur takes that as a sign to take a deep breath and continue:

“-and even if he had used sorcery-”

Merlin gulps at that. He’s simultaneously very excited, and very scared.

“-surely using it in such a manner, to help the harvest, isn’t necessarily a bad thing, if we can prove that it had no negative effects elsewhere?”

Uther stands up quickly, his face purple and his hands clenched tightly. Arthur gulps, but follows him to stand, and doesn’t back down or look away as The King stalks towards him angrily. Merlin has to stop himself jumping in between them when Uther grips Arthur’s shoulder in such a way that would certainly leave bruises. Arthur winces, but only slightly, holding his father’s gaze as he yells:

“Magic is pure evil Arthur, I have told you this, time and time again! It corrupts, absolutely and without fail, every time. I will NOT be ques-”

Arthur scoffs, and slaps Uther’s hand away, pacing away from him in sudden anger:

“For pities sake father! The man is at the ripe old age of fifty-seven, if he hasn’t been corrupted by now, how can you be so certain that he will be?! Surely just monitoring the use of magic would be better than slaughtering anyone who used it, whether for good or-”

Merlin thinks his heart might beat out of his chest, the guards look like they might all be about to faint, and Uther looks seconds away from an aneurysm. 

His Purpleness interrupts Arthur’s rant with an aggressive yell as he grips his son’s tunic with one hand, pushing him against the arm of his throne:

“YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THE WORLD!-”

When Arthur tried to push Uther away with a snarl (only after wiping the fear from his face), Uther raises a closed fist, landing a harsh punch to the side of his face. Merlin gasps again, and takes a step forward at that, actively having to stop himself form flinging Uther across the room with his magic at the sight of the blood dribbling from Arthur’s lips.

Uther continues in a low growl, but Arthur looks up at him defiantly, not even bothering to wipe the blood from his chin:

“-Magic is evil, and I will not have a naïve, ignorant, arrogant, boy question my knowledge, when I have SEEN the horrors of sorcery. Am I understood?”

Arthur simply stares back at him, Merlin being the only one in the room who can see his hands shaking as he replies in an even voice:

“Knowledge from where? The two of us have both had attempts made on our lives with blades, but you won’t outlaw the use of swords. Curious, no?-”

Uther once again raises a hand, landing a blow in the same place as before. Merlin takes another step forward, resolve breaking and fully intending to push The King away from his Prince with his bare hands if he has to. Before he can open his mouth to do something stupid, like yell at The King (or shout a spell), Uther steps back, taking a deep breath, and gesturing the guards forward:

“Take him to his chambers and lock him in; I don’t want to see him for the remainder of the week and he is to remain locked in there. I want guards outside the door twenty-four hours a day, and only his manservant is to be allowed access. GO!”

The guards step forward after only a little hesitation, but Arthur simply spits the blood from his mouth at the foot of Uther’s throne before storming out of the throne room, waving off the guards who tried to take his arms.

Merlin follows him hurriedly, not daring to even glance at The King as he scuttles out of the room and down the corridor.

When they reach Arthur’s new prison for the rest of the week, Merlin stands back, the guards locking the door behind him and his nervous but proud eyes following Arthur as he angrily paces. He doesn’t move towards him, remembering what he had said to Mordred all those months ago, knowing that Arthur is at the “aggressively lashing out” stage of his anger.

After a few minutes of Arthur’s pacing, muttering, and occasional throwing of vases and goblets, he stops, all of a sudden. His back is to Merlin (still stood by the door), and his head and his shoulders drop, as if several days of sleepless nights had caught up to him in one moment.

He sniffles slightly, and Merlin takes that as his cue to take a few tentative steps forward, quietly whispering his name. Arthur whips his head around, shoulders tense and jaw clenched, and though the tears haven’t fallen yet, Merlin can see them gathering in his eyes. He gives the Prince a weak smile and nod, before walking slowly to a cabinet in the corner of the room and pulling out a clean cloth, two bowls, and some bruise salve that he’d tucked in there.

He wordlessly knocks on the door, waiting for the guards to come forth and unlock it, at which point he passes one of the bowls out and quietly asks for a servant to fill it with ice-cold, clean water.

In the time Merlin had done this, Arthur had relaxed his tense shoulders again and sat on his bed, staring with furrowed brows at the floor. The guards obviously had a little sympathy for the Prince, because the bowl is returned after only a few minutes, and the servant that passes it through the door looks out of breath, as if she’d run. Merlin gives her a grateful smile, and moves slowly towards Arthur, setting his supplies on the bedside table.

He waits until The Prince gives him wordless permission, before stepping forward and tilting his head up slightly with a soft fingertips on his chin. Arthur sighs, and closes his eyes as Merlin gently prods the side of his face murmuring quietly:

“Tell me where it hurts.”

Arthur gulps as Merlin’s fingers start at his temple, slowly making their way down, across his cheekbone, and down to his bottom jaw; it’s there that he winces and pulls back slightly, whispering a barely audible “there”.

Merlin nods, brows furrowed as he hands him a goblet of water and tells him to wash his mouth out. The dark-haired servant barely manages to hold in a growl when the water that Arthur spits into the spare bowl is red with blood, and wordlessly gestures for him to open his mouth. Arthur just raises an eyebrow at him, but Merlin, still in Physician-mode, says in a deadpan tone:

“I need to check your teeth, this’ll feel a little weird, but I need to do it.”

Arthur nods, opening his mouth wide with a grimace, and allowing Merlin to probe the teeth at the back of his mouth, where he’d been hit. Merlin lets out a relieved sigh, removing his fingers quickly and wetting the cloth in the cold water. 

Arthur winces again as Merlin presses the cold fabric over the quickly bruising area of his jaw; the servant frowns, concerned, as he speaks:

“Sorry. None of your teeth are loose, but the cold will help keep the swelling down, and hopefully stop the bruise getting too big or dark. Let me know when it doesn’t feel cold anymore”

Arthur nods as he gulps in pain, and takes the cloth from Merlin, pretending that his shiver was from the freezing water and not the way his fingers brushed against his servant’s. 

Next, Merlin unlaces his tunic and pulls it to one side. Arthur had taken off his cloak and outer clothes in his pacing when he first arrived, so thankfully Merlin doesn’t have to jostle him too much. He once again frowns, this time at the five, small, circular bruises appearing across Arthur’s shoulder where Uther had gripped him.

Arthur can hardly feel them, they barely compare to even the smallest bruises he’s got in training, but the tears in his eyes dissipate slightly as he smiles fondly at Merlin’s fretting. The servant takes some of the salve, spreading it thinly over each bruise which a scowl on his face.

When he’s done, Merlin steps back and nods in satisfaction, though the grimace doesn’t leave his face as he busies himself elsewhere in the rooms as Arthur watches on, curious. 

To anyone else, it would look like Merlin is just being a good servant: tidying Arthur’s desk, stoking the fire, drawing the curtains against the evening’s darkness, and lighting candles. But Arthur can tell by the tenseness in his shoulders and the lack of chatter that Merlin was angry.

Arthur sighs and sniffs once more, refraining from clenching his jaw (logically he knows that it would hurt like hell) before he calls out his servant’s name quietly. Merlin immediately walks to him, looking slightly panicked, and Arthur just smiles slightly, holding the cloth out.

Merlin nods in understanding, discarding it back in the bowl and picking up the salve again:

“Do you want to do it, or do you want me to do it?”

Arthur’s hand twitches in his lap, but he holds them in place as he smirks weakly:

“What do I pay you for, Merlin?”

Merlin huffs out a quiet laugh and rolls his eyes, gently rubbing the salve into Arthur’s jaw, whispering a quiet apology when the blonde winces slightly. When he’s finished, he puts the pot aside, wiping his hands on the discarded cloth before standing up straight, staring at the floor between his and Arthur’s feet.

The silence stretches for a few moments, neither of them knowing what to say, before Merlin finally breaks, looking up at Arthur with wide, sad eyes, and speaking quietly:

“I... I’m sorry Arthur. He shouldn’t have done that and I wish you hadn’t got hurt but... for what it’s worth... I’m proud of you.”

Arthur lets out a breath, eyes filling with tears again. With all that goes on in their lives, the individual and shared responsibilities that they have, Merlin sometimes forgets how young they both are, but it’s now, with Arthur sat in front of him looking so small and sad and vulnerable, that the realisation hits him once more.

A tear escapes Arthur’s eyes, but he just looks to his lap, not bothering to wipe it as he sniffles and whispers:

“It actually, uh... it’s worth a lot to me, Merlin. Thank you. Do you... do you really think I did the right thing? Standing up to him?-”

Merlin puts a soft hand on Arthur’s uninjured shoulder, and it doesn’t even occur to The Prince to flinch away from his touch, but he does look up suddenly, eyes wide as he rushes to continue:

“-You don’t have to answer that! I’m sorry, I know you don’t like talking about magic, just forget I asked.”

Merlin smiles at him, wiping the tear away with his sleeve, leaving his hand on the side of Arthur’s neck as he softly replies:

“No it’s fine. Yes, I think you did the right thing, Arthur. You’re a good man, you saw a flaw in your father’s logic and you pointed it out, it’s not your fault that he’s blinded by hatred and fear and anger. One day this Kingdom will be yours, and you’ll be the Greatest King the land has ever seen.”

Arthur snorts, looking away with a blush before looking back up at Merlin with an amused smile:

“Now you’re just being a kiss-ass to make me feel better.”

Merlin laughs softly, but shakes his head:

“No. Just because I’m saying it to make you feel better, doesn’t mean it isn’t true. There’ll be a Golden Age under your rule Arthur, I’m sure of it.”

Arthur looks taken aback at Merlin’s sincerity, but before he can say anything, their gazes are quickly drawn to the door at the sound of muffled yelling on the other side.

The two men look to each other, before moving to the door simultaneously, pressing their ears against the wood only to hear Morgana arguing loudly with a very apologetic sounding guard:

“What do you mean, I can’t go in? Why? I demand that you unlock these doors right now!”

Despite the circumstances, Merlin and Arthur smirk to themselves. She always had been rather protective of Arthur, even if she didn’t show it often:

“I... I’m really sorry, My Lady, The King has ordered the doors locked. Only The Prince’s manservant is allowed in and out.”

“Oh for pities sake, well this is Mordred, you recognise him, don’t you Gavin? He misses Merlin, and he’s terribly worried, can’t you please just let us in? Look, Uther is throwing a tantrum in his chambers at the moment,-”

Merlin snorts at Gavin’s audible gasp at Morgana’s disrespect (though he definitely needs to have a word with her later about using his baby brother as a bargaining chip, even if it is effective):

“-he’s not coming down any time soon, so just let us in. We’ll be half a candle mark at most. Please?”

Merlin can imagine the exact wide-eyed look of desperation Morgana is pulling right now, and makes a mental note to question whether it’s her Mordred learned that from. Almost certainly.

The two men hear a drawn out sigh on the other side of the wood, and then a quiet:

“Fine, but only half a candle-mark, then you have to go My Lady, really.”

Arthur and Merlin jump back from the door, shoulder to shoulder, hands clutched behind their backs, and faces pulled into matching innocent expressions.

The lock clicks open, and barely a second later Mordred bursts in, looking panicked. Merlin lowers himself to one knee and holds his arms out, just in time for the boy to throw himself at him. Merlin hugs him tightly, whispering reassurances in his ear as he strokes his hair. Morgana quickly shuts the door behind her, sparing Arthur a quick glance before she puts a soft hand on Mordred’s back as the boy cries.

After a few minutes, Mordred quiets and Merlin pulls back, looking down at him with a reassuring smile. Before he can say anything, Mordred pipes up, his voice quiet and shaky:

“No one would tell us what happened! They just said they heard yelling from the throne room, and it was right after a sorcery trial so we... we thought that-”

His words are interrupted by another round of tears, and Merlin pulls him close once again:

“No no, everything’s ok. Arthur just stood up to... Arthur did something really brave, and The King got angry is all, everything is going to be fine, alright?”

Merlin picks him up, giving Morgana a pointed look and nodding at Arthur before walking briskly to the antechamber, shutting the door behind him.

Morgana finally looks at Arthur properly, but the blond had angled himself to the side, so she couldn’t see the purple bruise blooming over his jaw:

“What happened? What did you do, Arthur?”

Arthur bristled slightly, and walked towards his bed, his back to Morgana:

“Nothing. I stood up to my father, simply mentioned that it was... wrong, to sentence a man to death on hearsay. Especially when what he was accused of wasn’t even bad.”

Morgana gasped, almost yelling:

“You mean... you mean you think magic isn’t all evil?”

Arthur turns around quickly, rushing back towards her and clamping a hand over her mouth, angrily whispering:

“For God’s sake Morgana, do want to be locked in your chambers as well?! Lower your voice!”

Arthur slowly lowers his hand and steps back, but Morgana doesn’t say anything, just stares at the still darkening bruise on his jaw. Arthur tenses when he notices her gaze and turns away again, but Morgana pulls him back by the wrist, eyes flicking to the bowl of bloody saliva and the salve still on his bed-side table, before she looks back to him in shock:

“He didn’t.”

Arthur huffs, looking away:

“It’s fine, Morgana, leave it.”

Morgana is back to being furious again, and Arthur watches in mild annoyance as she paces his chambers:

“I can not believe this. No, Arthur, it isn’t fine! What the hell makes a father beating his son for daring to disagree with his outdated, hate-filled beliefs ok?!”

Arthur huffs again, rolling his eyes and crossing his eyes:

“He hardly beat me Morgana, it was two punches-”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, because Morgana turned on him, somehow managing to look even angrier:

“TWO?!”

He rolls his eyes again, throwing up his arms in annoyance:

“Yes, Morgana, two. And what did I say? Keep your voice-”

“I could not care less if the guard hears me yell about how much of an ARSEHOLE KING UTHER IS!”

In any other circumstance, Arthur would marvel at Morgana’s bravery, but he just gets angry at this point, almost yelling himself, but managing to keep it to an angry whisper:

“For fucks sake Morgana! I don’t care about the guard either! I care that Mordred is next door, crying his eyes out and already scared out of his mind! So will you please, shut up?!”

Morgana is incredibly taken aback at that, and glances guiltily to the door into the antechamber, before sighing and looking back at Arthur:

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Really though Arthur, are you ok?”

Arthur gives her a weak smile and nods. Crying in front of Merlin is one thing, but he wouldn’t do it front of Morgana, and he definitely didn’t want Mordred to see him either.

Thankfully before he has to verbally answer, Merlin walks back in, Mordred looking a lot happier, clutching the back of his brother’s tunic.

Arthur turns to the boy, forcing a wide smile on his face; Mordred returns it as he rushes towards him, wrapping his middle in a hug. Merlin laughs and Morgana smirks at the surprise on Arthur’s face, but he quickly kneels down like Merlin had, and returns the hug, cheerily saying:

“What’s this for then young man? Not that I’m complaining.”

Merlin and Morgana move to stand next to each other, and Merlin snorts at Arthur’s words, whispering to her:

“He sounds like such a dad, never thought I’d see the day.”

Morgana looks at him with a raise eyebrow:

“Merlin... he sounds like you. I mean you two practically co-parent him at this point anyway.”

Morgana laughs as Merlin flushes and sputters, not able to come up with any sort of retort before Mordred finally pulls back from his hug to Arthur, and saying with a grin:

“Merlin told me what you did, thank you.”

Arthur’s face falls into a soft, fond smile, and he ruffles the boy’s hair:

“Ah, don’t worry about it. Merlin promised that you’d always be safe here, right? Well, I can’t have my manservant breaking his promises can I? How would that make me look?”

Mordred giggles and nods, and Arthur stands up, taking his hand and walking to the others, where Merlin pulls Mordred close and looks to Morgana:

“Would you mind taking him back to Gaius? I still want to talk to Arthur about a few things, but it’s getting late.”

Morgana raises an eyebrow, but nods, and takes Mordred’s hand, walking towards the door. As she knocks to be let out, Mordred looks back at his brother:

“Are you going to tell him the truth?”

Merlin smiles at him, and nods slightly, ignoring Arthur’s confused stare:

“Only about myself. You can tell him about yours when you’re older, ok?”

Mordred returns his nod, whispering a quiet goodnight as he and Morgana leave, the door shutting and locking behind them once more.

Merlin takes in a fortifying breath, before looking to Arthur’s jaw, skimming soft fingers over the purple skin:

“How does it feel?”

Arthur gulps, but doesn’t move away (”Oh my God, Morgana was right. Why is she always right?!”):

“Sore, but it’s fine, I’ve had worse.”

Merlin clenches his jaw and lowers his hand, grumbling something along the lines of “that’s not the point you prat.”, but Arthur ignores him, clearing his throat before saying:

“What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Merlin furrows his eyebrows, giving him an assessing gaze, before he takes in a slow breath and widens his eyes:

“You know, don’t you?”

Arthur tilts his head in faux confusion. He refuses to push Merlin into telling him before he’s ready:

“Know what?”

Merlin rolls his eyes, grabbing Arthur’s wrist and pulling him to sit in the chairs by the hearth. The servant and the Prince stare at each other, the servant worried, the Prince blank. Merlin raises his hand towards the fire, but doesn’t break his stare as he mutters a spell, his eyes turning briefly gold.

Arthur looks slowly towards the fire, turning his arm over in Merlin’s hand and gripping his wrist back, stroking a thumb over the soft skin there. He smiles as he sees the a dragon and a bird flying around in the flames; he likes to think that it’s a Merlin bird.

He only looks back when when the fire shadows fade, and Merlin huffs:

“See, I knew that you already knew.”

Arthur laughs at him, shaking his head:

“No, I suspected though. I just didn’t want to push you when you weren’t ready. And I figured that you would only be ready when I proved myself to be trustworthy, so I did some research of my own, formed my own opinions,-”

Merlin looks a little sheepish at the reminder of the argument they’d had all those months ago, but Arthur just smirks as he continues:

“-found that perhaps my father was wrong. All the books I read spoke of magic as if it were any other tool or skill, and if the majority of people truly are just using it to help crops or heal sickness, then it can’t exactly be evil.-”

Arthur lifts his other hand, stroking Merlin’s cheek softly, a fondly glazed over look in his eyes:

“-and besides, how can I possibly believe magic to be evil when you can do it? You’re barely mean, Merlin, let alone evil.”

Merlin looks like he’s an odd mix of indignant and embarrassed and flustered when he scoffs and rolls his eyes:

“I can be mean if I want to!”

Arthur rolls his eyes, dropping his hand as he smirks and hums thoughtfully; he slumps back in his chair, frowning and flexing his jaw to try and soothe the pain. Merlin leans forward, copying his frown. He hovers a hand over his jaw, and bites his lip nervously, tilting his head in question. He chews his lip harder, and the corners of Arthur’s mouth twitch up almost imperceptibly, answering Merlin’s unspoken question with a whispered:

“I trust you.”

Merlin smiles widely, and both of them ignore the flush on Arthur’s cheeks as Merlin scrunches his face in concentration, cupping Arthur’s jaw gently.

After a few moments, Merlin’s eyes glow gold again, and Arthur stares at them, not even bothering to hide the wonder on his face, and barely noticing the lessening pain in his jaw. He doesn’t look away as Merlin softly speaks, his eyes fading into blue again, but his hand staying on Arthur’s jaw:

“I can’t heal it fully, I’m not great at healing magic and people will be expecting to see a bruise, but it shouldn’t hurt as much now.”

Arthur doesn’t react at all to Merlin’s words, just takes his servant’s hand from his jaw, holding it in his lap despite the other man’s flush:

“Have you ever looked in a mirror when you do magic?”

Merlin’s eyes widen in surprise, but he shakes his head:

“No, but ma told me that my eyes still glow gold, like normal sorcerers.”

Arthur nods his head slowly, still not looking away, still softly smiling:

“Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

Merlin’s flush turns even deeper as he gulps, and stutter out his reply:

“Uh... thank you. You uh... you’re beautiful... too?”

He tilts his head and raises his voice as if asking a question, and Arthur laughs at him, snorting as he says thank-you, and Merlin flushes, muttering a quiet:

“Shut up, I’m not used to being flirted with.-”

He looks up through his lashes, his face growing serious as he continues slowly:

“-That... that is what’s happening, right?”

Arthur laughs at him again, before nodding his head, a teasing smirk on his face:

“Yes Merlin. Flirting is happening. You idiot.”

Merlin goes back to looking indignant, but that stops fairly quickly when Arthur gets to his feet, dragging Merlin up with him and still not letting go of his hand.

The Prince’s teasing smirks morphs into a fond smile, and he lifts a hand to stroke Merlin’s cheek softly:

“May I?”

Merlin gulped, before stepping forward and nodding slightly. The two of them close their eyes, meeting in the middle in a barely-there kiss, Arthur’s hands moving to the back of Merlin’s neck, and Merlin gripping Arthur’s waist.

Arthur pushes Merlin back; the back of his knees hit his chair and force him to sit back down, pulling Arthur with him. The Prince settles with his legs straddling Merlin’s lap, but before the kiss can get any more heated, he pulls back suddenly, a confused frown on his face as he stares down at Merlin:

“Wait... what do you mean, normal sorcerers?”

~

THE END!! 

I’m thinking this will have one more (short) part, just to finish everything off. It’ll likely be a “ten years later” sorta thing, though with all the billion other prompts I got, it’ll be a while before I get to it.

Head over to This List to let me know what y’all want next! :)

[blackkatmagic]

It's just turned monday here and I know I'll forget about it in the morning so... For some reasons (insert furious handwaving) Maul was married off to Jaster to cement an alliance with the Mandalorians. Maul is pissed off but can't afford to be sent back so he's just. Silent and glowering. This is torture for Jaster, who has SO MANY QUESTIONS about the force and can't get a word out of Maul. Jaster learns to echolocate facts about the force by confidently saying things and measuring how wrong they are by how much Maul grinds his teeth. (Maybe he'll hit upon the thing that will make his new husband finally open his mouth and correct him)

Maul is going to make himself a widower in short order.

Murderous, faintly sleep-deprived, entirely fed up with absolutely everything, Maul slouches in his chair, one foot braced on the seat, and glares across the table at his new husband, contemplating whether he can refine his technique enough to actually murder someone with his eyes. Even if he can't, the excess of gold he’s wearing has to be good for something. Jaster won't be able to spout his stupid theories if he’s choking on five kilograms of jewelry.

“Don’t be silly, Arla,” Jaster says, in that particular confident tone that truly drives Maul to the edge of homicide. “Force-users have a long history of translocating themselves across vast distances.” There's a pause, and Maul ignores the dark eyes on him, watchful and amused, and instead contemplates how hard he’d have to throw the delicate curls of gold currently wound around his horns for them to kill a man.

Then, with the conviction of a man who’s never been mauled by a Zabrak for his sheer idiocy, Jaster says, “And besides, everyone knows of their ability to change their shape on a molecular level.”

A vein in Maul's temple probably throbs. He definitelygrinds his teeth, trying desperately to remember that Savage and Feral are both currently under Mother Talzin’s thumb, both sold into their own marriages to bring her power as she plays all sides. Serving the Sith Lord before his untimely demise wasn’t precisely better, but—

At least the safety of his brothers didn’t rest on Maul's ability to tolerate sheer stupidity.

Jaster doesn’t show any signs of recognizing that his lack of intelligence is causing Maul physical pain. He simply sinks back in his chair, swirling his wine in his glass, and smiles at Maul like he’s won something. “No shapeshifting, then?” he asks, amused.

Maul narrows his eyes, tips his head back to look down his nose at Jaster. Thinks, determinedly and a little bit mulishly, of Feral married to the clone army’s Marshal Commander, of Savage wed to a Jedi and forced to play husband to the new Master of the Order. Kit Fisto isn't Obi-Wan Kenobi, but Maul has no faith in a Jedi’s willingness to guard his younger brothers from Talzin. Clearly it falls to Maul to uphold this bargain, at least well enough to establish a safe place for Savage and Feral to flee to when they’re inevitably betrayed.

“Still no words for me, husband?” Jaster asks, still smiling. Maul might think him attractive if he weren’t so frustrating. “You were willing to exchange words at the wedding, but I've rarely been blessed with your opinions since.”

“Jaster,” Arla says, rolling her eyes from further down the table. Deliberately, like she’s making a point, she reaches out, tips more wine out of the pitcher and into her cup, and then downs it. “Please. Some of us are trying to eat here.”

“I'm hardly stopping you,” Jaster protests, entirely innocent. Maul twists one of the rings on his fingers and contemplates how much force he’d need to embed it in the wall above Jaster's head, as a warning. “I was just saying, Maul can finally confirm what I've known for years, which is that as the Force is the manifestation of a vast creature of entropy—”

Maul is going to break a tooth, he’s grinding them so hard. He digs his fingers into the arm of his chair, the black cloth of his formal wear, and fixes the image of Feral in that last moment before parting in his mind. Feral, thin and weak from punishment at the Nightsisters’ hands, being tradedto Commander Cody, passed into the ranks of the vast army made with stolen DNA and set against the Republic. Feral will suffer if Maul breaks this alliance. Talzin made that very clear, and Maul has little enough family as it is. He isn't about to lose his brothers. Not for this.

Jango, slumped down on Arla's other side and looking as though he greatly regrets agreeing to this dinner, groans and buries his face in his hands. “Old man, if you can't even flirt normally—”

“It’s not flirting, it’s science,” Jaster says. “I have a theory. Maul, would you care to help me prove it right?”

Since Maul would much rather attempt to drown Jaster in his soup, he bites his tongue and glares.

Jaster beams. “The Force,” he says, and Maul braces for impact, “is the expression of a vast hive mind beyond the known galaxy—”

It’s worse than Maul thought. He’s going to physically implode if he has to listen to this for one second longer—

“The Force,” Jaster says again, still watching Maul, “is an energy field created by living things.”

Not quite correct, but certainly more so than hive minds, and Maul only rolls his eyes a little. “If you're quite done,” he says darkly, because he knows what Jaster is doing, but that doesn’t exactly make it easier to bear.

Jaster chuckles, leaning across the table to pour Maul more wine. “For now,” he promises. “Though if you're open to a debate on the origins of the Jedi as a cohesive order—ow!”

One of the small, bright red fruits pegs Jaster squarely in the side of the head and bounces off. Not, surprisingly, thrown by Maul, and he blinks, casting a look sideways down the table, to where Jaster's majordomo is veryinterested in the last few spoonfuls of liquid remaining in his bowl. There is, notably, a bowl of the fruits right in front of him.

“Treachery,” Jaster complains, straightening with an offended expression. “Jango—”

“If it had been me, I would have thrown my whole plate at you,” Jango says, raising his hands. “Blame Arla.”

“If it had been me, it would have been a knife,” Arla says, clearly already a little tipsy, and single-mindedly trying to get herself right to drunk.

Well. Maul can appreciate the assistance of an ally, when the circumstances are right. He opens his mouth to take credit—

“Did you know,” Jaster says, perfectly certain, “that each lightsaber’s color represents the phase of the moon under which it was mined, and the resonance of them—”

Maul is going to murder him, delicate political alliances be damned. Feral will understand. With a low growl, he shoves himself up, lunges across the table, and grabs Jaster by the collar of his shirt, hauling them in until they're eye to eye.

“You,” he bites out, “are the most imbecilic manI have ever had the vast misfortune to meet. That is not how lightsabers work.”

“Oh?” Jaster asks with interest, leaning in even as Maul's eyes narrow. He smirks, his hand curling over Maul's, lacing their fingers, and then he deliberately, like a dare, raises Maul's hand to his lips. “Tell me more?”

Maul picks up his soup bowl and coolly upends it over his head. Truly, such a request deserves no other possible response.

[On AO3]

[incorrect-kotor-quotes]

What makes Jedi Academy so fun?

OKAY, Jedi Academy is great for a lot of reasons, but what I think makes it so enjoyable is that it's this bizarre combination of "absurdly unbalanced" and "frustratingly unpolished" which a game like Fallen Order, good as it is, just can’t replicate.

There are so many different weapons and Force powers interacting with each other, combined with the levels all being unique, that it has endless replay value. Every time I play it, I keep finding new quirks to the gameplay. Just last week I found out that if an AT-ST fires rockets at you, you can Force-push them back at the walker to kill it. Or turning off your saber to use both hands with Force lightning makes the lightning much more powerful.

The Force powers all start out useless, but the maxed-out versions each break the game in their own way. Heal Level 1: stand still and suck your thumb for a few points back. Heal Level 3: recover half your health in seconds as you continue to run around cutting people up. Lightning Level 1: low damage, barely hits anything. Lightning Level 3: instantly kills groups of enemies. Choke Level 1: hold a dude still for a few seconds. Choke Level 3: kill enemies by slamming them into the ground or throw them off ledges, assuming the power doesn’t snap their necks first. The game also doesn’t count dropping enemies as killing them, because it’s gravity that does it and I’m a “““pacifist”””.

Force-wielding enemies can dodge all your attacks by jumping and flipping around because this came out in 2003 and everyone was still obsessed with The Matrix. They can block or deflect most of your weapons back at you, including missiles. Unless you use the lock-on feature, then you can watch them jumping around trying to dodge the rocket, which will keep arcing around until it hits something. Unless the lock-on doesn’t work and it gets deflected back at you anyway, I don’t know what controls it.

If an enemy spots you, there’s none of that “it was probably nothing” chatter, they will never go back to passive, and will in fact hunt you to the ends of the earth. The Sith cultist pathfinding is good enough for them to get through an extensive platforming section covering half the map to get at me, then sometimes they’ll just jump off ledges. None of them ever figure out that I’ve lured them in an area hit by acid rain that’s slowly killing them while I keep healing myself. Pacifism!

There are various traps that are weirdly difficult to get through, like this one part where you’re on an assembly line and have to work your way through tight gaps in the machinery. I’m still not sure if I’m going the intended way or if I’m just lucky. There’s a segment where your character wonders aloud how to jump across a chasm, implying there’s a super-jump power, but I’ve been playing this for years and still never bothered to learn what it is. I get across with my normal jump, which does the job.

If you like Boba Fett, he shows up in one mission! If you hate Boba Fett, you get to personally beat the crap out of him! Fett can also do the Matrix dodging like the Force-users, and the missile-lock trick works on him. Or you can choke, then stab him.

There’s an awesome speeder bike level with weird physics that will have you flat-out teleporting several meters in random directions from collisions with the uneven terrain as you cut enemy drivers apart with your lightsaber accompanied by slow-motion kill cams.

There are multiple areas where large numbers of enemies or quasi-bosses appear to fight you. Nothing is stopping you from running out of the room. The doors aren’t locked. Or draw them into hazards, like on Hoth when I kept kiting a wampa around to pick off the troopers, standing back and watching as they were mauled by a wild animal. I am such a good pacifist.

This isn’t even a comprehensive list of all the stuff I’ve found. Please go play Jedi Academy.

[hpalways]

The Signature || Zhongli

Yandere! Zhongli x Reader

Please make sure not romanticize toxic relationships. I do not condone this behavior whatsoever. 

AMBER eyes were stuck on you, never once leaving your form. They belonged to the Geo Archon, Zhongli, the attractive man you befriended not too long ago. His long ebony hair had left its hair tie, drooping loosely over his shoulder like a soft waterfall as he rested his hands on the surface of the desk -- the desk in which you were forced to sit at. 

In front was a long piece of parchment, handwritten by the male delicately. On it stated:

An agreement that [Y/N] will stay by Zhongli’s side forever. The signer will not speak, look, or stand near anyone other than Zhongli. The signer will be cherished, so they will also have to cherish the other party. They will enjoy their lives to the fullest, as long as they do not step out of line and make sure to follow the rules laid out to them. 

[Y/N] will never stop loving Zhongli. They will speak of topics in interest to both parties. They will drink tea and spend mora for the two of them. They will unconditionally love Zhongli. They will love Zhongli. Zhongli will love them. For an infinite amount of time. Forever and always. Always. 

They will never die. They can not die. 

DO NOT EVER DIE.

Punishment will come if they dare break the contract. The signer knows what this means. 

Signed: _____________

The hand on the pen was gripped so hard, your knuckles had turned white and it shook. Your breath was shallow; A headache began to pound. His eyes would never leave. You were his priority now. Every action was a ticking bomb -- anything could set him off easily. 

You didn’t want to fucking sign it. You knew it was a death trap, but did you have a choice? Not really. 

Zhongli noticed your torn expression, so he tilted his head with a quiet hum. “Is it that hard to sign something?” he stated coolly, his gloved hand brushing over yours. The leathered feeling sent shivers down your spine, and it took everything not to cringe away. 

“I was just… thinking,” you murmured. He raised his brows slightly, quickly interested by your words. Maybe you could buy some time and figure a plan out to leave this room unscath. Luckily enough, the God of Geo was a man who often went on tangents. “I was thinking about the first day we met. You made me pay for your tea at the teahouse.”

He nodded eagerly, stroking the bottom of his chin in thought. “Why, yes. I can remember that day as clear as the skies of Liyue. The tea made for me was quite striking. Made of violetgrass and it tasted delightfully smooth too. Then you came in and made it taste even better. You were all dirtied from battle, seeking for a nice drink to be refreshed on. It caught my attention immediately, but when you offered to pay for me, I knew you were the one.”

He described the meeting in a dreamlike tone, oblivious to the jarring reality that sank its teeth on everyone like a poisonous snake. You shouldn’t have paid for him that day; you shouldn’t have even made eye contact and spoken to him. This was the consequences to your failure of judgment. You could only now sow what you reap. 

He swerved around the desk, growing ever closer to you until he was right next to you. His warm breath hit the side of your face, the smell of soft mint wafting up your senses. “Now… let’s not get off track here. Sign this, my love. I promise you it’s not that hard.”

Dammit. He was too focused on the contract that you barely had the time to brainstorm. Nothing was coming to mind. 

Footsteps echoed throughout the office of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. You turned around in desperation, hoping it was someone who could save you from such a situation. There, stood a merchant, his hand holding advertisements to his stalls.

“Hello, I’ve come to--”

When his eyes landed on you, the figure beside you had made his move. Zhongli grabbed his polearm and with a clean swipe, beheaded the speaking man. The body-less head made a perfect, slow arc in the air before dropping to the ground with a sickening crunch. You let out a gasp, panting raspily in shock, stomach twisting within itself in nausea at the sight. What… just happened? That man just died. Oh god. Oh fucking goodness. You suddenly realized something. Help wasn’t ever going to come. No one could best Zhongli. He was a god! 

“Why did you… do that?” you choked out, gulping down the huge lump in your throat. As a pyro vision user, you had your fair share of witnessing deaths. But this was wrong. Someone innocent died for coming into this room. On account of you. He died because of you. 

“On the contract it’s stated that you cannot look at someone. Besides, he interrupted our moment.”

“I haven’t even signed the contract yet!” you cried out in hysteria. This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. 

“Oh,” he said, blinking in surprise. “That’s right. You haven’t. Well, this serves as a warning.”

You could never leave him. Trapped in a glass box within all corners, you were to be suffocated by his presence forever. There didn’t need to be a contract; you were already in one. He would kill your loved ones if you didn’t -- he knew of the weakness humans had, for he lived long enough to observe. He had guilt tripped, blamed you for it all, and knew that you would indeed succumb. The deaths were caused by your actions, painting you in red of a blood bath. 

The pen made its move. Ink bled into the paper, marking it as a tattoo. Indeed. This was permanent. It would continue to haunt you for the rest of your life. The writing was barely legible, pressed down so hard it became jagged like shards. 

[Y/N] [L/N] was finally written on the goddamn page. 

Gods were so selfish. They truly didn’t like to share-- whether that’d be war, the world, or the love of their life. If only you had known beforehand. 

“This is marvelous,” he exclaimed, his expression brightening up. He looked so joyous at the signature, lapping it up like a starved dog. His reaction was so unnerving, especially since the dead body was still in the room, rotting away like the corpse it was. Disgusting. Your hands and his were bloodied and he had no shame. “[Y/N]...” He raised your limp hand and kissed the back of it. “I love you. We shall be bound by this contract. Know that I will protect you, no matter the cost.”

You stayed silent. He was trying to make it romantic, but this entire thing was surreal to you. Either he was ignoring your lack of response on purpose or he did not notice. Tucking the contract away into the pockets of his brown, gorgeous coat, he eyed his hair. 

“Tie my hair, my dear. I’ve always wanted to feel your warm hands on me.”

You nodded robotically in response, getting up from your seat to reach the towering male. His cheeks flustered when your fingers weaved into his soft strands. But it was cold. They felt like weaving spider webs, ready to entrap a poor bug victim into its complex trap. That was what you were. Every second spent was eating you away, until you were nothing but dust.

[inkedtae]

starfruit ⇾ jhs. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ camboy!hoseok x curvy!reader

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾  s2l, livecam au, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾  one video is all it takes to realize you’re all he wants.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.2k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ camboy!hoseok, dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, ass enthusiast!hoseok, nose piercing!hoseok, curvy!reader, sub!reader, shy!reader, nipple piercing!reader, vague mention of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, tongue kink, lowkey corruption kink, dirty talk, creampie, double penetration, reverse cowgirl position, sixty-nine position, oral (m. and f. receiving), degradation, overstimulation, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of star shaped vibrator, multiple orgasms, body worshipping, cum-eating, face licking, choking, dry-humping, a lil hair-pulling, spanking, swearing, begging, biting, clit biting, motorboating, fingering, rimming, ass job, ass play, spit play, breast play, a tad bit of jealousy/possessiveness for the win, star sparkling filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ hobi thirst hours:open

✩ banner by ⇾ @dee-ehn​ (thank you again dear~)

✩ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes​ (darling luff~) and @moonmintrails​ (my luffly soulmate~)

✩ le playlist

Blinds shut, doors locked. The routine is second nature at this point. Hoseok dims his lights before checking his hair in the mirror. He sighs at his reflection, hoping this lazy look of his is good enough for tonight’s live. Already shirtless, Hoseok sports baggy, grey sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, while his semi-hard cock is just barely visible. 

A good enough tease, he thinks after one last glance. Or at least let’s hope it is. 

He can’t bring himself to care too much about what is or isn’t “properly shown.” Maybe a year ago, or even six months ago, he would’ve made sure he was completely hard, his bulge unmistakingly visible through his sweatpants, and not have dimmed the lights. Now, however, it seems as though all he wants to do is the bare minimum. He’ll show as much as he needs to, get off as well as he has to, put on a good enough show to keep his viewers satisfied… for now. 

Still, even the bare minimum requires a certain degree of effort. Making his way to his desk, Hoseok scrolls through his phone and turns on his playlist for tonight. The first suggestive song tickles out of the speakers and softly fills the room. Getting off on camera is only half the job of being a camstreamer. Setting the tone, giving the audience an experience to crave, is the other half. 

As The Weeknd’s melody continues to hop between the walls of his bedroom, Hoseok makes sure his camera is properly set. Usually, he’d be making himself comfortable on his bed, preparing a variety of toys by his side to play with. Tonight is different. Tonight, Hoseok lacks the motivation to play around for an audience. In fact, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been lacking that motivation for a while. Tonight, he wants nothing more than to sit at his desk and use his hand to get himself off. Back to the basics, the bare minimum.

He looks forward to reading comments while he searches for the courage to share his news. He’s been thinking about this for a while, thinking about retiring from this kind of work. After three years of being on this site, he has cultivated a good following of viewers, but now the entire ordeal just seems… tiring. He loves sharing parts of himself to the camera, some more than others, but it feels like a chapter of his life that he has somewhat outgrown. Now, the entire job feels more like a chore. Not much pleasure, besides the one he stimulates himself, can be found before a camera anymore. 

There’s something about the distance between him and others that he somewhat loathes now. Before, Hoseok found the disconnect, the stringless affair of live after live to be a comfort. He believed he could come and go as he pleased. He’d have fun with others at a safe enough proximity to fool around without the fear of catching serious feelings. It was a solid plan, until it wasn’t. All Hoseok craves now is that spark between him and another. And the more time he spends live streaming, the more he realizes how lonely it is. 

His camera starts to flash, signaling it’s going to start recording in about fifteen seconds. Hoseok lets the red gleam pull him out of his thoughts as he stands up. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tenses his stomach a bit. He doesn’t have ripped abs, but he’s fit enough to give off that impression. The light stops flashing, shining a bright red to let him know the live has started. Cutting just under his nose, the camera captures his entire torso and just a bit under his hips. Views immediately pour in as do comments and some cash. 

Hoseok chuckles a bit, watching as viewers beg him to drop his pants. The attention is just enough to get him fully hard. That’s one crutch Hoseok seems to have trouble letting go of; the attention. 

Licking his lips, he starts to palm himself through his pants. He lets out a shaky sigh then pulls his chair forward and takes a seat once again. He leaves some room between him and the desk though as he slouches a bit and makes sure that they can see his hard-on through his loose sweatpants. With the camera rolling, Hoseok has no other choice but to play along, one last time at least. 

“Hey,” he forces a smile. “Everyone ready for a relaxed night?”

[agustwantsthatd] : no toys tonight?

He shakes his head. “No toys,” he replies, continuing to rub himself over his pants. “Nothing fancy tonight. I hope that’s alright.”

Hoseok laughs to himself a bit at the mixed reactions. His aim to have a relaxed evening costs him a couple thousand viewers. In the past, something like that would’ve scared him enough to make him immediately drop his pants and move the show to his bed. But, now, he really can’t bring himself to feel even the slightest bit worried.

Just a few less people to break the news to. 

Comments begging him to just take his sweats off start to stack. Hoseok runs his tongue across his teeth, puffing his bottom lip out while glaring at the comment section. He doesn’t appreciate being told what to do very often. Most of the time, he just does what he wants while talking to some to his audience like he’s fucking them instead of whatever toy he usually goes for. His patience for their attitude is wearing thin. They almost don’t treat him like a real person sometimes, talking to him like an object. It may have been what he wanted before, the distance, the ability to keep himself unattainable, but now it’s becoming something of a pet peeve.

[starfruit340] : it’s only been a day, but i’ve missed you. Hope you’ve been well.

Hoseok only just catches the kind comment before it’s casted off by another pile of demands, smiling at his screen. That Starfruit is always too nice for her own good. All her comments are gentle requests, sometimes even sweet nothings. Once he even caught her asking him how his day was and if he’s eating well. He’s not sure what a sweet soul like that is doing on a site like this. He has realized, in the last six months or so, that she’s been the only viewer to remind him of his humanity. Her ability to look passed the charade of his has been refreshing. He wonders if she knows, if she can tell he hasn’t been his best. 

“Starfruit,” he breathes as comments questioning his sudden smile flood in. “You’re too sweet for your own good, honey.”

[starfruit340] : did he just say starfruit?

Immediately, Hoseok regrets his words, realizing his mistake. Not even a rookie would call a user out by name. A few viewers have turned on the user, bashing her for the favouritism he just displayed. “No fighting or nothing comes off,” Hoseok threatens, raising a brow. A smile plays on his lips as some users scold each other to stay in line. 

[agustwantsthatd] : let’s not forget the real fruit we all want.

Hoseok has to keep himself from laughing at the comment. He doesn’t want to start anything else and that comment seems to be enough to keep everyone focused on him, so he doesn’t want to ruin it’s progress.

“Since you’ve all behaved yourselves,” he starts, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats. “The pants are coming off.” 

He pushes the sweats down, lifting his hips a bit. His huge cock slaps his stomach once exposed, then stands tall. Kicking the pants off his ankles under the desk, Hoseok returns his hand around his veiny member, storking himself a couple of times. 

It seems like his remark to Starfruit has made some viewers adopt her sense of concern for him. They begin asking about his day and if he’s doing well. He bites back the sneer that wavers the smile on his face. Though he would like to believe that their concern for his well being is genuine, he knows they’re only saying that in hopes to get his attention.

Hoseok can’t play around it for much longer. He forces a smile, replying, “My day was fine, darling. How was yours?” 

Slowly pumping himself, he reads a few more comments then lays back in his chair. His usual cocky expression falters, a fact he’s not very proud of. He replies to some more users to cover it up, plastering on a fake smile long enough to avoid any questions on “what’s wrong.” 

Hoseok falls silent, squirting some lube into his hand to help get himself off. He lets a few good moans out, closing his eyes and getting lost in the pleasure rather than focusing on the broadcast. His cock’s getting needier as he just slightly tightens his grip and moves his hand faster over himself. Rolling his hips into his hand, he sucks in a sharp breath.

The void within him cannot be pleased with one lousy hand job. Hoseok tries to refocus his attention on the live stream, hoping he might rediscover that forgotten thrill of exposing himself to everyone. However, the closer he gets to his orgasm, the clearer Hoseok realizes that the only thrill lies merely in the pleasure of getting off rather than doing it for an audience. 

He huffs under his breath and rests his head back against his chair. Forget the camera and the thousands of people watching him get himself closer to his high. Hoseok realizes that if he’s going to cum right now, he’s going to have to attach his loneliness to something, someone other than himself. 

The first person in mind sparkles with kindness and Hoseok tells himself he’s only focusing his energy on her because he just wants to get all this over with already. But Hoseok can’t deny the swirl of excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of her. He wonders if her voice is just as sweet as her words, eyes just as innocent as her soul. Pumping himself faster, he can’t help but think about her smile. Is it as bright and full of hope as her comments? Or does it delicately twinkle like her personality? 

A staggered moan tears through his throat, adam’s apple bouncing, as his brows come together. Jaw clenches, nostrils flare, and Hoseok groans his pleasure through gritted teeth. Suddenly sprouting out his release, he gasps and rolls his body into his hand. Usually, he’d make a show of this, but he can’t deny it’s truth right now. The shots of cum land over his legs, some even on the ground but for the first time in a long time, Hoseok can’t care less. Chest still heaving, he tries to dump all thoughts of her from his mind but she’s tethered deeper within now. 

Stringing a few curses, Hoseok mentally scolds himself for his inability to think tonight. Any other night, he would’ve pulled up some porn on his phone way before the camera started rolling and hid the lewd video from the viewers’ sight. He would’ve continued on his efforts to carry out the bare minimum.

But, thinking of her, attaching himself to a user he’d never even properly talked to, only further proves to him how important it is for him to leave this life behind. He’s desperate to fill a void and acts recklessly. The determination to break the news hits anew. He’s sure this is it this time. He’s going to tell them.

That determination trickles the moment he returns his attention on the screen. The comment section is going wild. His words get caught in his throat. A rush of cash floods in the tune of clattering coins. Praises follow commands and Hoseok is not sure if he can even keep his screen persona up for much longer, let alone drop the ball about leaving. 

Eyes growing heavier, exhaustion slowly overtakes him. “I’m sorry for the quiet show tonight,” he mumbles, cleaning himself up. “It’s just…”

He stares at the comments, the view count, the amount of cash he made tonight and sighs. His courage falters, so that happy, hopeful image resurfaces. He forces a wide smile and shrugs. “I had a bit of a rough day, but hopefully tomorrow makes up for it. I’ll catch you all in the next live. Sleep well.” 

Hoseok leaves them with the image of his fakest smile as he turns the camera off. His entire mask crumbles when it’s over. After cleaning himself off, Hoseok pulls on his pants and tries to convince himself that it just wasn’t the right time. He just got off to one of the users. He’s clearly not in the right state of mind to announce this kind of decision.

With a sigh, he switches his computer off then the music and crawls into bed. Face buried in his pillow, Hoseok waits for sleep to wash over him and hopes, with every fibre of his being, that the fear of telling them the truth doesn’t follow him into tomorrow. 

A loud yawn leaves Hoseok as he shuffles back into his room. He shuts the door while taking a quick sip of his morning— well, mid-morning coffee. He’s not used to sleeping in since it always happens to throw his entire day off. He would’ve been fast asleep by eleven, but a neighbour of his, a couple of doors down, seemed to have other plans for the night. With all her moaning, Hoseok was barely able to get a wink of sleep. She wasn’t up for long, but just the fact that she had interrupted him in the middle of drifting to sleep was enough to keep him wide awake. Once he’s up, he’s up. There’s not much he could do about it. 

With a tired sigh, Hoseok sets his mug on his desk and logs onto his computer. He makes it a habit to check the live website for new donors and sometimes even replies to some comments left last night. He hovers the cursor over a new post, wondering if a quick broadcast would break the news better. At the chime of a new message, Hoseok’s attention darts to his inbox.

[from starfruit134] : so sorry to bother you

Hoseok brings his brows together. Heart thumping, he immediately recognizes the username. His mind reels to last night, trying to recall if he said your name again. Did he maybe mutter it again when he was caught up in the act of getting him off? His fears intensify as he wonders if any of those viewers followed you into your inbox last night to leave some nasty comments. Maybe some were so hurtful you needed to reach out to him. 

Confusion riddles his face when you debunk all his theories with a simple string of texts.

[from starfruit134] : hope all is well.

Hoseok’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a second. Should he really be engaging in a conversation with you? After all that’s transpired last night, the idea of privately talking to you has his stomach flipping with the flutters of butterfly wings. 

He doesn’t know when he last talked to a girl like you though. And the more he stares at your username, the more he craves the sincere interaction of simply one person getting to know another. 

[to starfruit134] : could always be worse. are you alright? did anyone bother you last night?

[from starfruit134] : no, no one bothered me. i just came to thank you for getting them off my back actually

A little smile plays on his lips upon reading your message. His heart murmurs, stunting his breath a bit by how sweet you can be. 

[to starfruit134] : no need to thank me. 

Hoseok’s about to reassure you that the entire interaction was his fault when you suddenly hit him with a question he wasn’t expecting. 

[from starfruit134] : have you really been alright? you didn’t seem like you were feeling well last night.

You noticed? Hoseok furrows his brows, sitting back in his seat. His fingers brush against the letters as he tries to come up with a good enough lie, but he really can’t bring himself to type one out. He wonders how much you’ve picked up on. Can you see through his entire persona or just the fact that he’s lost the motivation to put in the same effort? 

Swallowing thickly, Hoseok hopes his reply is enough to keep your questions at bay.

[to starfruit134] : just an off day 

[from starfruit134] : ahhh i see.

[from starfruit134] : well, i have something for you. 

[from starfruit134] : has sent a video

Hoseok bites his lip, a single brow quirking at the thumbnail. The first thing he notices is ass. Curved so beautifully, your ass struggles to remain contained in your yellow panties. If he had known you were this thick, he would’ve thought of you sooner. With a tilt of his head, he stares at your plump cheeks, smirking at hints of cellulite and lining stretch marks. A light blush colours his face and he has to pull himself out of the trance of the picture to properly return his attention to your messages.

[from starfruit134] : you must get this a lot. these kinds of videos.

You aren’t wrong. He receives videos like this multiple times on a daily basis. However, not a single one of these people have ever been so… kind. Many of them demand that he watch them, which only turns him off. Yes, maybe once or twice, Hoseok appreciates a guiding hand in his sexual endeavours online. But, off camera, all he wants is to be spoken to with a bit more kindness. It’s for this reason that he usually deletes all those videos without a second thought.

[from starfruit 134] : i don’t mean to bother you with mine. but, you looked so exhausted last night and i wanted to show you how much i appreciate your dedication to still live stream.

[from starfruit134] : also i’d love it if you could tell me what you think? maybe even offer a few pointers? i’m thinking about starting one of my own lives and i just wanna make sure i’m good enough.

The first message has him smiling, but the second one fades any happiness he thought he held. Of course, you’re here for a favour. Were your previous messages about his well-being serious, or were you just buttering him up to get him to comment on your video? Do you even really appreciate his efforts to put on a show? 

His mind laps around a million doubts, but his heart intercepts the discussion with the reminder of your usual attitude and presence. You’re considerate, that fact being clear in the way you’ve always put his needs before yours. And even though he really is just some guy online, you’ve always treated him with a degree of humanity that others lacked. He doesn’t blame them, as he’s admitted to himself that he’s the one provoking their feral reactions. But the fact that you can switch between the two so seamlessly means something to him. A little sigh pushes past his lips. You’ve always seemed sincere enough, so why shouldn’t he give you the benefit of the doubt? 

Hoseok sits back in his chair and rubs his chin, staring at that thumbnail. Just from a first glance, he knows you’d do well. A lot of the cam business centres around superficial tendencies and he can’t deny your beauty. He could easily ignore your message, like he does with others, or pretend to have viewed it and reply with a single word, “good.” But, something within him can’t let you go that easily. 

Licking his lips, Hoseok reaches for the lube. He’s getting hard anyways and there’s still a whole day before his next live. After putting on his headphones, Hoseok takes a deep breath and starts the video, full screening it to make sure he gets every angle of your ass. 

Lights dimmed, you smile shyly at the camera. A string of star shaped lights twinkle behind you, illuminating your room with a sensual glow. The quiet beat of a suggestive song can only just be picked up by the camera as you run a hand through your hair and toss it to the other side of your head. You’ve created quite an ambiance for him, one he definitely finds himself craving. 

“Hi,” you giggle, biting your lip nervously. “I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.” 

Hoseok can’t help but smile with you, setting the lube down to just admire your cuteness for now. He just knew you had a stellar smile. Someone that nice has to have a cute smile to match it.

Fuck, she’s adorable. 

He can’t keep his eyes off yours, even with your breasts squished in that tight shirt of yours. You have this endearing innocence that he’s not so used to. Dressed so slutty, looking so precious, you sit at your desk with your bed behind you. Hoseok is suddenly charged with the urge to ruin you, just laying you down on your bed and dicking you down so good, you’d never want to leave his side. He’s not really sure what you were so worried about. It’s rather obvious to him that you’d do great as a camgirl. Yet, the thought makes his heart twinge. 

“Hmm,” you hum, looking up. 

Hoseok can’t believe how cute you look even when you’re just thinking. He glances at the time of the video, cursing himself when he sees it's only been ten seconds and he’s already whipped for you. He wonders if this is an act, if you know exactly what you’re doing. One look into your nervous eyes let’s him know you’re clueless to your own charms.

“Well, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. You looked…” you trail off, chewing on your lip before slightly shaking your head and changing the course of your sentence. Still, Hoseok can fill in the blank you’ve left. You can tell he’s been off his game, he concludes. Now the question remains: how long have you known?

“I just wanted to know from the best if I’m cut out for this kind of…” Pausing, you search for the right word. “Fun.” 

With a deep breath, you let your shoulders fall a bit and let your gaze wander only to look back at the camera like you just remembered something. “Oh, I guess I should show you what I’m wearing first, right? Why am I asking? He can’t reply.”

Hoseok chuckles a bit at your little rant. He licks his lips to whisper, “it’s okay, honey. Show me what you’ve got.”

As you get up, Hoseok shifts in his seat. Jaw going slack, he has to remind himself to breathe. You stand up and show off that tiny, little yellow crop top you’re wearing with those matching lace panties that hug your curves all too well. Fisting his hands, Hoseok lowly growls, wanting to rip them right off while he’s thrusting into you. He knows he’s barely seen anything yet, but he’s already nudging his underwear off. Inhaling a sharp breath, he watches his screen intently as you slowly show off your body. Giving your back to the camera, you cup the underside of your ass then use your fingers to shake each cheek. Your ass jiggles even though you’ve barely touched it. 

“Oh, shit,” Hoseok sighs, melting back into his seat. How the fuck can it move like that? With each shake, your cheeks bounce up in waves. He rests a hand over his mouth, brows furrowing, as he watches you tease the fuck out of him. At least three new ways to fuck you come to mind every time you shyly look over your shoulder at the camera.

You give each cheek a good rub then stand with your legs hip length apart and lean forward enough to just stick your ass out. Hoseok’s just about to wonder what you’re up to when you start to bounce a bit on the balls of your feet. The waves return, ass clapping loudly, effortlessly with each jump. Hoseok has lost all ability to give a shit if his roommates are home or not. He groans out at the sight and tilts his head a bit, thinking it’s going to give him a better view. 

You’ve perfected that move. Catching glimpses of cellulite, Hoseok smiles to himself at your natural beauty. He almost forgot you were a natural girl. He wonders how natural you’ve left your pussy for him.

As you continue to make a show of your ass, his hand hovers over the timeline of the video. He debates on whether or not he should just skip to the parts where you’re finally naked and pleasing yourself to the thought of him. But, with every second that you clap or shake your ass, Hoseok concludes that he really doesn’t want to miss a second of you. Moving his cursor to the side, Hoseok settles on letting you tease him for a little while longer. 

You giggle as you look at the lens over your shoulder and stand up straight again, suddenly getting shy. Hoseok smiles and chuckles a bit with you, not able to resist how adorable you are. He lets out a hissing sigh, trying to figure out why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. The thought of you last night got him off, the sight of you this morning has transported him into uncharted grounds. He’s never sure what he should be doing. Sometimes, he’s too entranced by your beauty to do anything at all, and other times his hand acts on his own. Taking a deep breath, Hoseok decides to simply stroke himself a bit for now, watching as you pick up the camera and set it up just in front of your bed.

You crawl over the sheets, oblivious to how good of an angle the camera has of your ass. “I just finished watching your live and I didn’t touch myself just so I can show you how wet you get me,” you say as you seat yourself in front of your pillows and spread your legs. 

Hoseok mutters a quiet, “oh god,” when his eyes fall on the big, dark wet patch between your legs. Even your inner thighs look slick and sticky. You pull the hem of your panties aside to show him the mess he’s made. Hoseok smiles when he sees that you’ve trimmed the hair up for the most part, leaving a little patch on the top part of your pussy. Fate is cruel to present his perfect girl yet keep her so far away. Hoseok can’t fight the frustration festering in his heart at the reality of your separate worlds. 

But as you continue your discovery of pleasures, Hoseok can’t dwell on the misfortune of your shared distant fate. You’re too cute to deny attention, not like Hoseok has much of a choice to do so when you’re offering yourself up to him on a star speckled platter. 

You tug on your folds with your other hand, fingers in the shape of a ‘V,’ to properly show him how ready you are. Swollen and sensitive, your pussy is drenched with your wetness. 

His eyes twitch, roll back at the sight. Never has he been this fucking turned on before. He huffs a breath, trying to regain his composure as you further spread your legs. Biting on your lip, you look to be lost in thought, looking up at the camera in wonderment. 

“Hmm,” you hum again, making Hoseok’s heart flutter. “I think I’ll just take this off. Might be easier to play that way,” you give him a single shoulder shrug. 

Hoseok lowly moans and nods. His strokes become a bit fast as he watches you pull your panties off and toss them somewhere in your room. Keeping your legs spread, you pull up your shirt and expose your breasts. Hoseok pauses the video, removing his hand from his already twitching cock as he leans his elbows on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down because he knows that if he doesn’t he’s going to cum just from the sight of your duality. 

Sneaking a glance at your frozen image on his screen, Hoseok quietly moans to himself. Your shirt is still on but rolled up to display your tits. He can’t believe that someone as shy and innocent as you also has a nipple piercing. He can definitely tell that you have a slutty side, but you don’t like showing it often. The fact that you’re even exposing yourself to him like this is enough to make him want to have you all for himself. He’s not usually possessive but he just can’t stand the thought of you posting videos like this for everyone else. 

Playing the video again, Hoseok sits back up in his chair and just watches you for now. He decides he’s not going to touch himself yet until he sees you finally start to play with yourself. He wants to see you enjoy yourself first before indulging in his own pleasures. He also figures it might be the best way to hold off on his impending orgasm.

You shyly smile at the camera and pinch your nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers. Hoseok smiles, groaning to himself as you quietly giggle and bite your lip. He can see that, in this moment, you’re putting up an act, and he’s loving it. It’s not as adorable as when you’re unintentionally cute and nervous, but it’s just as sexy. 

Nervously sliding a hand down to your pussy, you cup your pierced breast with your other hand and gently massage it. You land a few light slaps on your pussy, moaning louder with each hit. Hoseok’s drooling, though he doesn’t pay much mind to that. Completely enthralled by the sight of you looking so pleased, he doesn’t even realize he has leaned forward so close that his face is only a few inches away from the screen. All he can think about is burying himself between your legs and drowning in your pussy. 

A high pitched moan escapes you as you start to lazily rub your clit with your fingers. Your other hand moves from your breast to rest behind you as you lean back and get yourself comfortable. Gazing down at your own work, you moan again, sighing contently as you gather more of your wetness and further rub it against your needy bud. 

Pause. 

Hoseok leans back in his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. If you were here right now, he’d seat you on his lap and help guide your bounces on his throbbing cock. What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You have to know how fucking hot you are. Hoseok begins to wonder if you’re even really looking to get pointers or if you’re just here to show off. You’ve already set the scene, and look the part. There’s not really much left to it. Maybe his use of your name last night switched something in you. However, judging by how nervous you are, he assumes you must really be looking for pointers and not just showing off because he noticed you. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re too fucking hot to not know it yourself. 

He chews on his lower lip as he debates on what he should tell you. Just a couple of minutes in and Hoseok is willing to transfer all his funds to you if you were a live streamer like he was. But the idea of sharing you with everyone else is not something he’s particularly fond of. Pushing that thought aside, Hoseok ignores the disheartening feeling swimming in his chest from the mere thought of someone else witnessing your precious figure like that. He decides to simply focus on the video and not take you out of its context so much anymore. You’re just some hot girl on a screen, he tells himself, nothing to be overtaken by.

Play. 

You slap your pussy again, squealing giggles then looking up at the camera shyly. Hoseok blushes, licking his lips at how fucking cute you are. With a gasp, you look between the camera and your pussy. Hoseok furrows his brows, wondering what’s got you all worked up now. You shift closer to the edge, grabbing the camera and bringing it down to your wet pussy.

Hoseok’s face flushes red as your entire wetness is in HD. He assumes this must be what his view would be like if you were here with him right now. However, that’s not what’s got him all choked up and breathless. You move your fingers up off your pussy and Hoseok growls loudly at the sticky string of juices that connects your pussy to your fingers. You giggle, in the process of placing the camera back in it’s spot when he pauses the video once more.

This can’t be real. No one this hot has ever even looked at him twice. Those other girls that flood his inbox are beautiful but you’re fucking enchanting. Fuck, not taking you out of context. You did that yourself when you sent him this video looking that cute and irresistible after a handful of messages worrying over his well being. You’ve made yourself more real than your video, obscured his senses with your endearing personality and beautiful body. 

Minimizing the full screen for a second, Hoseok clicks back to his inbox in a different tab and deletes all the other videos from the other girls, even resorting to blocking them, leaving your messages behind. He clicks back to your video, full screening it again. He’s decided: you’re all he wants.

After playing the video again, Hoseok leans forward and watches as you reset the camera on your bed and lay back into your pillows. 

“I’m wet enough for a toy,” you think out loud, making Hoseok smile. His cheeks hurt a bit from how much you’ve got him grinning throughout the first three minutes of your video. 

You reach into your night table, grabbing a yellow star shaped toy, bulky with curved edges, from the first drawer. You show it to him with a smile, and he breaths a chuckle, completely taken by your charming antics. You shove the toy into your mouth, wetting it even more and lean back over to reach for something else. Legs still spread, pussy still glistening, you rummage through the drawer for a moment longer. 

Though your cunt is on full display for him, Hoseok focuses his attention on your face, enchanted by how cute you look when you're focused on something. You have the long string of the yellow toy dangling out of your lips, looking like you’re sucking a lollipop as you finally find what you’re looking for and pull it out to show it to the camera. The long, golden cylinder remote operates the vibrator, Hoseok realizes. 

Taking the vibrator out of your mouth, you set the remote down. You move the wet toy between your folds, drenching it in your juices before tugging on your pussy’s lips and shoving the toy in. Your brows furrow, mouth hangs open as you slowly slide it in, squealing in the process. You swallow thickly once it’s in, the rubber line hanging out of it just like it did in your mouth. 

“If you were here,” you start as you pick up the remote again. “I’d let you control it.” Smiling to the camera, you flip your hair off your shoulder and suck on your bottom lip. 

“Let me?” Hoseok questions under his breath. He can tell from the way your eyes sparkle with mischief that you’re choosing your words carefully. You’re egging him on, knowing he’s the dominant type. As you turn the vibrator on at its lowest setting, Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that you’d love the feeling of his tongue between your folds, maybe even a bit lower. Watching you make yourself comfortable, he scoffs, “Honey, I can ruin you.” 

You keep the remote beside you as you close your eyes and enjoy the little stimulation. Hoseok pumps some lube in his hand and starts to stroke himself again, wanting to match the same level of stimulation you’re getting to feel as though he’s there with you. You must have been getting a bit impatient with yourself though, because not even seven seconds later, one hand is on your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it, while the other is on the remote, turning up the intensity of the vibrations.

Caught in the pleasure, your thumb trembles over the buttons, the vibrator suddenly being heard clearly over the camera. With the loud hum of your toy and the symphony of moans escaping you, the music can barely be heard. It’s just you, him and that star shaped vibrator you’ve seemed to lose all control over. A screech tumbles out of you as the remote falls out of your hand and onto the floor. You let out a moan of frustration while the vibrator goes crazy inside you. 

Hoseok can’t help but smile at your horny, clumsy state. He’s so enraptured by your annoyed yet pleased sounds that he doesn’t even realize he’s been jerking his cock to a fast pace for the last little bit. 

You lay back in your pillows, seemingly accepting your fate as your body jolts and eyes roll back with every buzz of pleasure. High moan after moan tears out of you. You beg him to never stop, grinding your hips up and Hoseok can’t help but wonder what he’s doing to you exactly in your mind that’s making you this needy. 

“O-oh, fuck yee-eess,” you manage to whine. You have your arms framing your breasts, pushing them together for him to admire as you get yourself off. While one hand gingerly plays with one of your nipples, your other hand rests near your mouth, sucking on your trembling fingers like you’re trying to stay quiet. 

“Fuck, just scream,” Hoseok whispers under his breath. What he’d give right now to have you scream his name. He moans loudly at the sight of your riling on your bed, so captivated by your pleasure, as he jacks himself off at a speed he never thought he could. 

Your moans get higher pitched by the second and Hoseok realizes that you’re getting closer. Hips shooting up, you finally cry out all your moans and whines as you cum. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sight, breathlessly whining to himself as you roll your hips up to ride your orgasm out. 

Face lost in the pile of pillows behind you as you throw your head back, all Hoseok can really see is your slick gleamed pussy. Hints of your orgasm leaks out of you before you flip to your side and pull your knees up to your chest. Whimpering quietly into your pillow, you bounce a bit on your bed. 

Hoseok swallows hard. Going to lick his lips, he notices another trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t make an effort to wipe it away, one hand too busy pumping his needy cock while the other’s clutching onto the chair’s armrest. Knuckles whitening, he tightens his grip and lets out a dark moan at the sight of you overstimulating yourself because you’re just that needy. 

Sitting up again, you run a hand through your hair and try to spread your legs. They’re still shaking; you’re still shaking. Eyes wet with horny tears, you let a few loud moans slip pass your pouty lips. “Fu-ck,” you stutter, eyes rolling back a bit as you hold onto the underside of your thighs. He can tell you’re doing your best to keep your pussy visible for the camera. You’re trying desperately to hold your legs apart, but with all that uninterrupted friction, you’re struggling. Knees knocking together, blocking your breasts and pussy from view, you can’t seem to keep your body under control. 

All previous attempts to remain quiet have fully been discarded. As Hoseok previously requested, you start screaming out your pleasures. Falling back into your pillows, body shuddering, you put all your strength in pulling your legs apart and scream at the instant pleasure it provides. Hoseok furrows his brows, chest heaving as he watches you toe the line of your next orgasm. 

You start to rile in place again, choking on a sob-like moan. Hoseok lets out a little sigh at the sound, swearing to himself that it sounds all too familiar. He doesn’t dwell too much on the familiarity, though, as you enjoy your next high. 

Then you suddenly sit up, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” you practically sob, quickly pulling the vibrator out and letting all your juices squirt out of you. You hold the vibrator to your clit and cry out as your release sprays all over you, the bed and the camera. Shutting your eyes, you stick your tongue out to catch a quick taste of yourself before looking back at the camera and squealing. 

Hoseok jumps back a bit, as if he too is getting squirted all over. His orgasm suddenly overtakes him just from the sight of you tasting yourself then trying to save the camera all while still holding the vibrator to your clit and squirting whatever you have to offer. The way you’re still desperate for stimulation even after possibly ruining your camera has him almost shaking. Ropes of his cum fall all over his desk, streaking his screen and keyboard, but he couldn’t care less. You’re both a fucking mess and he likes it that way. 

You finally discard the vibrator, letting it continue to buzz on your bed and fall back. Your body shudders a bit and you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your orgasm course through you for a minute longer. “Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself. Slowly, you unfold yourself and sit up to wipe the camera off with the hem of your shirt. Laying back onto your pillows, you’re breathless, eyes heavy and breasts heaving as you giggle quietly at the lens. “I don’t know if you could tell, but that wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe I’m not cut out for this camgirl life afterall.” 

You’ve got that shy look in your eyes again, and Hoseok only cleans his screen to get a better look at you. He’s still pumping himself, not completely drained and satisfied just yet. And though you look a bit fucked out, he can tell that you can definitely go for another round. But, you don’t. Instead, you brush the hair out of your face and pull your shirt down. He groans as your breasts disappear from view. 

“I-I think I’ve kept the neighbours up for long enough,” you nervously giggle before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

Hoseok huffs, sitting back in his seat. Another couple of rounds won’t make a difference then, will it? He thinks to himself as you wish him well and hope you’ve done a good job. A breathy chuckle escapes him at your words. He can’t believe you could be this clueless to your own charms. It’s clear to him, as it would be to anyone else who would watch your lives if you were to make them, that you’re absolutely perfect. 

Glancing down at the throb between his legs, Hoseok finds himself hardening once again just from the thought of you. The last stilled image of you reaching back to turn the camera off, a clear shot to your breasts, nipple stud in full view, has him squirming in his seat a bit. 

From the yellow glow of your username, Hoseok knows that you’re still online. But with his cock still craving another round of your beauty, he decides against giving you an answer yet. He tells himself he needs to watch your video one more time. Or maybe even three. Just to be sure. 

After wiping his desk down from his last orgasm, Hoseok restarts the video. He pumps a bit more lube in his hand and smiles as you greet him through the camera. 

“Hi. I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

You sit atop of the washing machine, your roommate, Minh, across from you. After how your night ended, you needed to wash your bedding. Upon hearing you mention leaving this morning, she decided it’s time to clean her laundry too and tagged along. You don’t really mind it. All you hope is that she doesn’t ask too many questions about why you’re washing your sheets earlier than usual. 

You knock your feet against the washer window and try to soothe the quick beats of your anxious heart while she reads peacefully. It’s been exactly four hours since you’ve sent him the video you took of yourself last night. You know he’s online. The golden glow of his name tells you as much anyways. You’re not sure if he has looked at your message though. Maybe he’s ignoring you, or worse. He’s blocked you. You swallow back a nervous lump in your throat at the thought and tell yourself that you’re being ridiculous. 

“Stop,” Minh sighs, looking up from her book. 

You still your legs, muttering a quiet apology. As she turns back to her book, you wonder if it was your mention of last night that’s thrown him off. He did look uncomfortable, most of the time lost in his own world. But, maybe he didn’t want anyone else to know that. Maybe the fact that you brought it up has turned him off. 

BUZZ!

Your heart nearly tumbles out of your chest at the sound. Hands darting to the phone, you quickly unlock it to look at your notifications. Your eyes light up when you see his username. Lips trembling, you tap the notification and wait anxiously for the app to load to his message. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i can’t imagine a moment of you like this being a bother

A little gasp escapes you at his response. You blink, once, twice, three times, trying to make sure that what you’re reading isn’t just some hopeful thinking you’re projecting simply because you find yourself completely and utterly infatuated by him. Reading the message over and over again, you try your best to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You know full well that you can’t come up with something witty to send back if you get all giddy. 

His comment is cute but you got an earful from Mrs. Jiwoo across the hall asking that you bring men over at an earlier time to get that over with sooner. Minh was completely confused, having spent the night out with a few friends. You had to later explain to her that Mrs. Jiwoo has no idea what she’s talking about. And though both conversations were mortifying, you’re somewhat relieved Mrs. Jiwoo didn’t think you were alone, getting off to some guy on a screen, and that Minh bought your excuse. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i think this site would crash if you started up your own livestream honey

The pet name has your knees knocking just as it did last night. You still can’t believe he said your username and spoke to you through his live. Sure, it resulted in some backlash, but having his attention like that was like nothing you’ve experienced before. 

Looking around, you make sure you haven’t caught Minh’s attention. She remains unbothered, flipping a page in her book. Glancing back down at your phone,  you let out a little giggle. Is this really happening? This guy must get tons of videos like the one you just sent, tons of people must throw themselves at him like you indirectly did. With that thought suddenly in mind, you wonder if he’s merely telling you all this to be nice. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings and is talking you up just to keep you away. 

[to hopeonthescreen340] : you really mean it? 

You type and delete the message a couple of times before finally sending it. Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the three floating bubbles wave as he types out his reply. Did that sound too desperate? Your fingers tremble over the keyboard again as you let out a shaky deep breath. No. You mentally assert. Why would he lie? If he wanted to get you off his back he would have ignored your messages, maybe even deleted them all too. He has nothing to gain from lying to you. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : with all my heart

You bite back a giggle, in the middle of typing out a reply of gratitude when he sends another message that has you shaking again. 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : but i don’t think you should host a livestream

Defeated, disheartened, disillusioned, you scoff at your phone. Is he playing games? Is that what he’s up to right now? Slouching, you knit your brows and glare down at your screen. 

[to hopeonthescreen340] : thought you meant what you said?

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i did 

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i do

[from hopeonthescreen340] : youre just a little too innocent for this kind of scene

You shake your head, dryly chuckling in disbelief. What kind of backhanded compliment is that? Too innocent? Yes, maybe you were nervous in the beginning but you thought that the rest of the video was pretty good. Heart sinking, you can only stare down at your phone. 

How could you not see this coming? You sent your favourite camboy a video of yourself with only the best scenario in mind. How could you so easily disregard the possibility of being rejected like this? Running a hair through your hair, you type a quick, plain response. 

[to hopeonthescreen340] : k. thanks.

Putting your phone away, you turn back to laundry. With a ding, you hop off the machine with Minh and get to drying. The warm, freshly cleaned sheets will probably be the new highlight of your day. So the sooner you finish cleaning them, the quicker this day will go by. Or, at least that’s what you hope.

A tired sigh fills the living room as you switch the channel again. Snacking on some cherries, you’ve taken to eating your feelings away. You’ve already gone through two packs of blueberries and a pack of strawberries. Your lips are smeared with the cherry juice and fingernails stained red. 

As you change the channel once more, your mind wanders back to the messages. Maybe he’s right? Maybe you are too “innocent” or whatever to be a regular on a livestream. You roll your eyes at yourself, knowing that’s not what’s got you so tired of the day. 

The truth is you never really had your heart set on being a livestreamer. You know deep down all you really wanted was some more attention from an online crush. You wanted to feel beautiful to him, wanted to know he was losing himself to the thought of you. To have him crave you like you crave him was your real intention behind that video. And now that you know that’s not the case, you can’t help but feel riddled with regret and stupidity. You should’ve taken what you could, taken the use of your username as the flirty, casual comment it was meant to be. You took him out of the context of the live stream too soon, too quick. You’ve got your hopes up and all you have left to show for it is cherry lips and fingertips. 

The vibrating hum of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You grab a tissue and wipe as much of the fruit off your hands before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s busy here. I’m probably gonna be home late.”

You glance out the window, judging how dark it already is. The sun’s already setting, swirls of golden peach hues taking over the darkening sky. Minh’s not usually home before dark anyways, but you appreciate the call either way. “Alright. There’s some leftovers for you when you get here.”

“Great, I’m starved. Hey, did you check the mail?”

You bite on your lip to hold back a forgetful sigh. “Mhm,” you lie, slowly getting up from your spot. You tiptoe your way to the door and try to pick up your keys as quietly as possible. 

Minh must’ve heard the lie in the sudden high tone of your voice or the jingle of the keys because her scoldings soon followed. “I told you to check it four times before I left. It’s probably full now. You know I’m waiting on a package. How is it supposed to fit if mail from a week ago is still in there?” 

“I’m getting it right now. I promise!” you reassure. 

Minh sighs and mutters a “you better” before hanging up. 

You sigh and toss your phone on the table by the door, heading out to get Minh’s precious mail. You were going to suggest that she just pick it up on her way to the apartment once she’s off her shift, but the last time you did that, she scolded you for not doing your half of the chores. You figured it’s better to just go do it yourself. 

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve left barefoot. And, to top that embarrassing realization, you also left behind a sweater, cardigan, something to cover yourself with as all you have on is a pastel yellow tank top and a pair of matching lounge shorts. Annoyed with yourself, you figure it's much easier to just quickly go grab your mail now instead of riding the elevator up and down. 

You pad the cold ground of the building’s lobby, rushing to the foyer before someone can see you. After fumbling with the keys for a couple of seconds, you finally find the right one and unlock your mailbox. 

“‘Scuse me,” a voice mutters to your left. 

You keep your eyes locked on your mail. For some reason, you figure that if you don’t make eye contact with the other tenant, then you’d face less embarrassment. So, you mumble an apology and side stepping to the right all while keeping your head low. Your plan seems foolproof until he quietly thanks you in a deep voice all too familiar to ignore. That lively tone laced in a tired voice tickles the curve of your spine, making you roll your shoulders back.

Curiosity always seems to get the best of you. Trailing your gaze up his frame, you think he doesn’t look that familiar until- 

“Oh god,” you whisper. 

He turns to face you, face dropping when he recognizes you as well. You bring your letters up to your face, shielding yourself from the shame and embarrassment of coming face to face with the man that subvertly rejected you online. Peeking above them, however, you can’t resist the urge to check him out. You tell yourself it’s to make sure it’s really him, but you know full well that you just want to get a good look at him. 

Loose grey sweatpants, baggy white shirt, black hair in its usual middle part, exposing just the right amount of forehead to get you wet from just one glance. Oh, and that little, silver hoop pierced into his nostril. It looks even more heavenly in person, as does he. Yeah, it’s definitely him. You can feel your heart taking residence in your throat as you meet his dazed gaze. 

“Oh my god,” you repeat to yourself in a whisper. Glancing between him and the key in his mailbox, you can’t believe he lives in the same building as you. You’ve been watching his videos for about six months now. Never had you seen him around your building before, not even a bump in the elevator. 

“Starfruit,” he mutters, sounding surprised himself.

For some reason, the nod to your username draws a little mewl out of you. Your eyes widen the moment you realize what you’ve just done. His brows shoot up, the tips of his ears tinting red. 

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I, um, I didn’t mean to do any of that.” 

His expression immediately softens, a little smirk gracing his lips as he scans your figure. You shift your weight from foot to foot, eyes averting to the mailboxes as his eyes lock on your hips, drinking in the way your shorts sit on your curves. You can feel his eyes soon trail up and linger on your breasts. You internally scold yourself for resting your shoulders back and puffing out your chest so he can get a better view. Even after all that’s transpired, you still can’t help but throw yourself at him. 

He doesn’t seem to mind that, however, shamelessly staring at how your cleavage peeks out of your pastel yellow tank top. Clearing his throat, he snaps his gaze back to your face as if just remembering that you’re watching him stare at you. “Uh, there’s no need to apologize,” he shrugs before turning to grab his mail too. 

“I didn’t know you lived-”

“Me either,” he cuts you off, biting his lip when he realizes what he did. He lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. “Uh-”

“I wouldn’t have sent anything if I’d known,” you explain. Shutting your mailbox, you lock it once more and remove your key all while continuing to hold your mail over your face to hide your shame. 

His smile somewhat wavers as he tilts his head to get a better look at your face despite the presence of your mail in front of it. “Why?”

You clutch onto your keys, avoiding his gaze as you reply, “well, um, it’s just a bit embarrassing to send that kind of thing to someone in your building.”

“And it wouldn’t be to a stranger?”

You sigh and finally meet his eyes. “For all I knew, you were on the other side of the world. I didn’t risk much when you rejec-” You cut yourself off, clearing your throat. “It’s just different when it’s to a stranger.”

He shuts his mailbox too, dryly chuckling at you. He gives you one last once over, licking his lips, before walking past you. You furrow your brows, confused eyes following his tall frame back to the building’s lobby. You can’t help but wonder what the look was for. Did you say something wrong? Maybe that whole thing about strangers was offensive? 

“Wait,” you call after him, following his steps to the elevator.

He pushes the button then spares you a side glance as he shifts through his mail. You curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly grabbing his attention. His eyes lock on the simple action, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. 

You hold your mail to your chest, letting out a little sigh, then muster the courage to say. “Look, I’m just sorry I sexualized you.” The honest confession has you gulping, looking at the floor in the hopes that it will open up and swallow you whole just to get you out of this humiliation fest you’ve got yourself lost in. “It’s just easier to feel less guilt about it through a stranger’s live stream rather than a neighbour’s.”

The elevator rings, signalling it’s arrival and you wait for him to make a move to enter. Only when he nods towards the door, urging you to go in first, do you step onto the elevator. 

“Floor?”

“Tenth,” you mutter, regretting every word you’ve spoken since running into him. 

He remains silent for a second before clearing his throat. Glancing at him, you raise a brow. “I sexualized myself, so there’s no need to blame yourself for anything. And, for the record, I’m not sorry about that video at all.” A blush creeps up his neck at his own confession. 

Licking your lips, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it. Not much of his reply makes sense. For one, it goes against whatever you thought he meant in his messages earlier today. You want to believe he rejected you since he already said that in so many words but his sincerity makes you question your interpretation. 

“So you actually…” you trail off, reading his expression carefully. “You actually liked the video?”

His entire face reddens. You’ve never seen him this shy before. He’s usually so cocky, so controlled. Not a lot can faze him. In fact, now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him fazed by any sexual things his viewers have commented. Yet, here he is. Looking flushed and, dare you even think, embarrassed, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It was amazing,” he whispers, looking over to you. “I watched it more than once actually.”

Your jaw falls, eyes widen. Is that why it took him so long to reply? The air in your lungs thickens as you realize that he probably got off to your video. The thought alone has you shivering in place with lustful pride. 

“Really?”

He nods.

“How many times?”

DING!

The elevator signals the floor arrival and it’s only now that you realize he only hit the button to the tenth floor. He nods for you to step out first and you obey, eyes aimlessly staring at the floor as you try to make sense of the fact that the two of you not only live in the same building, but on the same floor as well. 

With all that has come to light in the last few moments, you realize you can’t get lost in your worries anymore. Turning to face him, you offer a shy smile and say, “I’m-”

“Starfruit,” he finishes with a smirk. “I know.” 

You raise your brows in question. His grin only widens, lighting up the dim hallway like the rays of a morning sun. But it doesn’t distract you from wondering why he doesn’t want to know your real name. “I think ‘hope on the screen’ is a bit of a mouth full,” you joke.

He chuckles, looking to the side a bit before turning back to you. “What’s wrong, honey? Not used to having your mouth full?”

You freeze, breath hitching. Goosebumps prickle your skin as you try to settle your ramming heart with sad excuses that brush off his statement to be anything but sexual. However, with just one look at his smug features, you know full well that’s exactly what he meant.

“Not usually by a name, no.”

Lust clouds his eyes.  He sets his jaw, gaze hardening. Quirking a brow, he asks, “Is that right?” When you nod, he sighs. “Just Hope will do then.”

“Hopie,” you somewhat slur with a smile. 

A little smirk tugs on his lips and he nods. “Sure, Hobi is fine.” 

You don’t bother correcting him, liking his version of the name better anyways. For a moment, you both stand inches apart, staring at each other. He then suddenly blinks and clears his throat. Looking down the right side of the hall, he bites his lip and turns back to face you. You pick up on his hint to go your separate ways and nod, walking ahead of him back to your own apartment. You’re convinced this will be your first and last meeting, in which he will call you Starfruit everytime he sees you and you will reply with Hobi and convince yourself that you’re okay with that. However, his footsteps only follow after you.

You make it to your door before turning to face him. He stops an arm’s length away, features clueless and eyes confused. 

“Looking for an invite to come in?” you tease, hoping to fluster him. 

“You offering one?” he smirks. 

Mouth gaping, you look between him and the door. How is it that you’re the one flustered? That was not the plan. Hobi’s smirk only widens. You suddenly wonder if he’s bluffing, that cocky look starting to irritate your wettening core.

You turn to your door, unlock it then push it open. Leaning your back against the doorframe, you reply, “You tell me.” 

Hobi swipes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth, eyes darkening once more. “You sure about this, Starfruit?” He asks as he takes a step closer. 

“What’s not to be sure about?” You question. “I’m just inviting a neighbour over for a drink. It’s an innocent offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Hobi?”

A low growl tears through his throat before he dips his head and catches your lips in his. You kiss him back with very little hesitance. His lips taste of lemon and cream, sweet and citrusy like he just had dessert. Moaning into his mouth, you hear his mail spill in your apartment somewhere to your left. He then grabs the stack of letters in your hands and repeats the same action, tossing the mail into your apartment. 

His hands are free to roam around your body but immediately settle on your ass. Hips pinning you against the doorframe, Hobi grabs handfuls of each asscheek. Groaning and groping, he doesn’t miss a chance to make you wetter than you already feel yourself getting. 

You don’t hesitate to get your hands on him either. Clutching onto his shoulders, you chase after his lips as he pulls away. Nudging you back with his nose, Hobi then dips his face in the crook of your neck. His tongue darts out, hot breath fanning over your goosebump prickled skin. Warm and wet, his tongue swirls around your collarbone then up to your jawline. Meanwhile, his greedy hands are working fast to pull your shorts to the side, exposing your panty-less pussy.

You don’t give him a chance to see that, wanting him to feel it instead. You spread your legs and hold his thigh between them. Pressing your clit to his dampening sweatpants, you roll your hips onto his leg. 

Hobi stills for a second, only just pulling his face away from yours to watch your body move against his. A giddy grin plays on his lips, his hands returning to your ass to help guide your thrusts against him. 

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his cheek. Never did you think you’d find yourself in this position. Last night, you imagined him fucking you against the wall to get yourself off, but never pictured that wall to be in the hallway. Standing in the middle of your doorway, one foot in the apartment and the other out, the two of you risk being caught in a compromising position by the entire floor. And yet, neither of you seem to care. With his body so close that his heat warms you, you find very little interest in anything else. His racing heart against yours and that excited gleam in his eyes is all you can focus on. He looks a bit happier than he did last night and that alone has you moving your hips a bit faster against him.

“Mhm, honey,” he hums before pressing his lips against your forehead. “Just like that.”

To unknowing eyes, the two of you might look like a long time couple, horny and adventurous in your intimate endeavours just from the way he holds and expresses his interest in you. You even find yourself indulging in that daydream for a second, giving into your delusions and pretending that Hobi is your boyfriend and the two of you are that adventurous couple. Whines leave you as he digs his fingers into your ass. It somewhat pulls you out of that daydream. 

His grip then circles around to your hips, stilling your thrusts and holding your against the doorframe. He flashes a cocky smile at your sad mewls from the loss of friction. “Don’t pout,” he whispers. You further draw your bottom lip and test his grip on your hips as you try to continue your movements. 

Hobi chuckles darkly, tightening his hold on you. “I know you’re needy, honey,” he purrs. “But if you don’t behave soon, you won’t get to cum at all. Do I make myself clear?” He questions before licking your pout away. 

It takes everything in you not to squirm. His voice is enough to make you needy, but his words make you desperate. You nod and pull your bottom lip into your mouth, sucking on the strip of saliva his tongue left behind. Hobi raises a brow at your actions. Gathering some spit in his mouth, he mutters, “pout,” then drops the stringy liquid over your lips. Some of it slides down your chin to your neck but, once he’s done, you part your lips. And as you drink in his saliva, Hobi licks up the trail of spit from your cleavage to your chin. He places a wet kiss to your lips once he reaches them.

Pulling away, he peppers your cheeks with soft kisses while one of his hands tugs the hem of your shorts aside once more. The cool air hits your wet folds. You whine against him and try to fight against the hold on your hips against. The longer he delays getting to your clit, the needier you get.

“Patience, Starfruit,” he mumbles against your cheek. 

The soft pad of his thumb brushes up against the short hair upon your pussy a couple of times, filling the pit of your stomach with a growing restless desire to just be filled and fucked. He’s teasing because he can, because he loves the way you squirm against his hold and pout for his tongue. You know this; he knows this. Catching the other’s eye, both of you share a knowing smile. 

Holding your gaze, his thumb finally nudges its way between your folds and grazes your swollen bud. You instantly shudder, breasts heaving from the excitement. He smirks, dragging his thumb back and forth on your clit as he watches you slowly come undone. 

His head lowers again, lips latching onto your neck. He nibbles and sucks on your skin. You can only tangle your fingers in his hair and moan. As your eyes flutter shut, Hobi fully removes his right hand from your hip, and devotes it to your pussy. He runs two long, slender fingers between your folds, instantly drenching them, and chuckles against your neck, “what’s got you this wet, Starfruit?”

A gasp escapes you as he circles his fingers around your clit. Your mind’s a foggy mess, focused only on his pretty face and how easily his fingers can have you shaking. There’s not much attention spared on anything else, so you answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Eyes hooded, you reply, “Just a little hope.” 

He likes it- loves it, fingers slipping into your pussy in an instant. A growl rumbles upon your skin in the process and you can’t fight the shivers that dance along your spine. You whimper his name, resting your forehead on his shoulder. The hand previously holding your hips still wraps around your waist. He’s somewhat cradling you against his chest as his fingers unforgivingly thrust in and out of you. Movements harsh but touches so gentle; Hobi is a god of duality. Just another fact you can’t deny.

Your orgasm knots in the pit of your stomach, only just satisfying that boundless crave for him. His body is all but pressed against yours. Cheek to cheek, your lips are merely inches away from his ear, while his kisses yours. You untangle your fingers from his hair, gently tugging on it as you do just because you can, and you wrap your arms around his shoulder in a tight, desperate embrace. Still, you need more of him, need him closer, so you hook a leg around his waist too. 

Hobi growls a chuckle against the shell of your ear as he gives into your silent, needy request and slides his hand from your waist to your ass. He lands a light spank, as if testing your limits, drawing a loud squeal out of you. 

“F-fuck,” you whine. “Again?” you ask, pushing your ass back into his hand. “Please! Pl-ease, Hobi.”

He groans, whispering, “Already begging, honey?” 

Before you can reply, he spanks you again. The smack is harder, clap louder and you can’t help but match the volume of your moans to it. Your pussy tightens, hips roll uncontrollably against his fingers. You're reaching your peak; the both of you can feel it. Hobi grips onto your ass, and it’s only now that you also realize you’re clinging onto him not just because you want him, but to keep from falling. Your knees have gone weak awhile ago, but you were so enthralled by the pleasure to fully register it. 

You’re squealing, screeching your moans against his shoulder with every wet slouch that echoes from your core. “Oh, god! Yes, yes, yes, Hobi! I’m- I’m-”

His little eager chuckles, the kind where his voice rumbles into your ear and echoes within your soul, are the force that push you off the edge… until the door across the hall opens. 

Mrs. Jiwoo screams at the pornographic sight in front of her. You quickly shoot a hand to his wrist, holding it still in you the moment you realize you’ve provoked an audience. Though you’ve kept his hand still from the embarrassment your mind’s telling you you’re supposed to have, your hips continue their lifts against his hand. The act of getting caught has you shaking with the wash of a harsh orgasm that you can’t seem to stop yourself. Hobi peppers your face with kisses, unfazed by the interruption as well. Within seconds, you flood his fingers with your release. 

The older woman is beside herself. She rushes back into her apartment as you throw your head back and moan a giggle of delight. “When I said during the day, this is not what I meant!” She shouts from the other side of the door. 

You don’t care. You can barely even hear her with how powerful your high hits you. Your ears feel as though they’re submerged underwater, mind fogging with light-headedness and body shuddering as it struggles to stay upright. 

“You fucking slut,” Hobi seethes, gently sinking his teething into your neck. 

You whimper in response, hips jolting in an attempt to escape the overstimulation of his ruthless fingers pushing in and out of you.  

“That got you off, huh slut? Getting caught by the neighbours?”

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

The growl that echoes in his chest is enough to make you cum a bit more. And the fact that you know that response wasn’t what he was expecting has a smile playing on your trembling lips. A few strands of his hair fall over his eyes as he scans your face. He looks as though he’s trying to place you, confused by your words and actions. A smile suddenly stretches upon his lips, that tongue of his cockily pushing out.

You can’t quite think straight with his fingers still deep in you, holding still while your hips jolt against his hands. But, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s amused, perhaps even obsessed with the way you discard your inhibitions for him. The reality of the matter is, that if any other partner had wanted you against the doorframe of your apartment, fingering you in the hall for all to see, you wouldn’t have allowed it. But Hobi is different. He provokes recklessness and abandons fears so effortlessly that you can’t help but follow.

Fingers withdrawing from your pussy and into your mouth, Hobi lifts your ass so that your bodies are completely flushed against each other. You suck without much of a command, quietly mewling at the taste of yourself on his fingers. You try to hold his gaze, but his eyes travel to something over your shoulder. He smirks as he guides you inside, the grip on your ass strengthening. Curious as to what’s got him so possessive, you spare a quick glance over your shoulder. Another set of neighbours, Jin and Jimin, stare at the two of you, jaws slack and eyes wide. When you meet their gaze, Jimin quickly looks away, fumbling with his keys then struggling  to unlock the door. But Jin only continues to stare, his eyes dropping down to Hobi’s fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass. 

An embarrassed squeal escapes you before Hobi pulls your attention away from the guys by curling his fingers in your mouth and tugging your jaw towards him. His eyes darken, face hovering inches away from yours, but all you register is the bulging veins in his neck. Kicking the door close, he whispers, “I don't share, Starfruit.”

Ceasing all sharp suckling and swirls of your tongue, you freeze at his words. His eyes soften and  flash with worry, fingers uncurl and withdraw from your mouth. He parts his lips to speak but you only smash yours against his and clutch onto his thick biceps. He kisses back in an instant, cupping the underside of your asscheeks to give them a good shake. He seems to have some sort of infatuation with your ass. His hands have barely wandered far from your backside, as at least one hand has been groping and gripping it. You smirk against his lips and arch your back so that your ass further pushes into his palm. He smacks it, tongue attacking yours all the while. 

He breaks the kiss to ask against your lips, “bedroom?”

You moan in response and push him back in the general direction you think your room is in. You don’t realize you’ve terribly misjudged your placement in the room until you push him into the door. He grunts upon impact, pulling his lips from yours with a little laugh. You nervously giggle with him, convinced he’s going to tease you, maybe even open the door again and give all peering eyes an encore, but instead he smiles and leads you down the hall. 

Bodies collided, all you can do is move with him, timidly peppering his chin with little kisses. For some reason, you only feel shy in his presence when he’s not overtaken by lust. It makes the interaction more real when he just flashes that bright smile at you and continues to hold you close against him. Lips dragging under his chin, teeth grazing the soft skin, you take a moment to admire his beauty up close. The camera doesn’t do him justice. He glows. Skin, smile, eyes, everything about him gleams, glitters, glistens of beauty. And when lacking a dose of lust, his features shine into something pure. You can’t quite tether the purity to a source, and you aren’t granted the time to as he finds your bedroom. 

In mere seconds, that bright sunshine gleam in his eyes flashes into a dark moonlight glow. He’s lust driven, sex crazed. And suddenly you’re no exception. Following his every silent command, you let him shove you onto your bed. You land with a soft grunt, fumbling with your skirt. He’s so eager to be all over you, he doesn’t even take a moment to flick on your lights. No, Hobi has different plans. His infatuation with you and that video seem to go to lengths you didn’t think were possible. 

“Turn on those lights from last night,” he orders while making his way over to the curtains and draws them shut. 

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

“Why not, Starfruit?” 

He must know the effect of using your screen name, must see the way you chew on your lips and absentmindedly puff your breasts out. In that fruity voice of his, he really can coax you in and out of your thoughts.

Hobi pulls his shirt off as he makes his way over to you. Gulping, you take a moment to admire his tan torso. You’ve been thinking about it since his last live, thinking about scratching your nails down his chest then cat-licking the faint marks up. You wonder if he’d let you do that now. 

But, as he crawls onto your bed, his eyes flash a silent warning to do as you’re told. You lean back and switch on the twinkling starlights tangled around your room. The quiet room mirrors the production you set up for him last night, once again reflecting the ambiance of a midnight showing. Despite the sunset peachy swirls, Hobi has recreated the set for your video. Actually, with the presence of his grey sweatpants and the little yellow outfit you have on, he has somehow merged your two videos together, transporting the two of you into your own private live stream setting. 

“I don’t suppose you’d want me in lace too?” you tease as his lean body hovers over your curves. 

He breathes a chuckle, placing a soft kiss over your lips before replying, “I don’t want you in anything at all.”

Your legs have a mind of their own, adjusting apart to give him some room to lay between them.  Your trembling breath fans over his lips, hesitant hands rest on his bare shoulders. He picks up on your anxiety and nudges his nose against yours, the cool edge of that hoop piercing refreshing your skin. 

Delicately, he whispers, “Lemme know if it’s too much, Starfruit. It’s never too late to change your mind.”

His reassurance is enough to have you arching your body into his.  Based on the concern swimming in his eyes, you can tell that he’s waiting for some verbal confirmation. But you, instead, put your mouth into different use. As his tongue reappears to graze the gaps of his teeth, a brow raising in question, you catch it. Hooking your tongue around his, you pull it into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. His eyes widen with every suck, warm breath heating your face as it fans over you. A chuckle or two escapes him as he watches you hold his gaze shamelessly while playing with his tongue in ways you’ve only ever thought of. 

Hobi drops to his elbows, arms on either side of your head, and presses his body against yours. The shift of his position further pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your previous sucking fest turns into a wet, sloppy makeout session. He rolls his clothed hips into yours with each swirl of his tongue, groaning as you mewl from the subtle friction. 

He seems to be losing patience, breaking the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your tongues, to trail kisses down your neck. You think he’s going to stop in the dip of your collarbone, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leads the sloppy trail of kisses down your cleavage. Before you can even register it, Hobi has his teeth locked on the neckband of your tank top. He pulls it down to expose your breasts. Locking eyes, you find something animalistic swimming within his gaze. Unbounded, uncontrolled, it seems as though every minute spent with you has unleashed yet another layer of primal lust ready to take over every inch of you. Never have you seen such passion in those eyes before, even on his best days, his best lives. You start to wonder if maybe it’s the presence of another that has him all worked up.

Hobi lures you out of your thoughts as he leans back and rests his weight back up on his hands again. Looking down at you, he admires your chest. His eyes bounce between your pierced and bare nipples, as if deciding which one he’s in the mood for. You take a deep breath and arch your back to push your breasts up towards him, urging him to just pick one already and devour you. 

A little breathy chuckle escapes him once he picks up on your hints. The pad of his thumb brushes over your pierced nipple. Slow, quiet, steady. He remains still, lost in thought before his eyes find yours again. That primal instinct that was previously unleashed has somewhat tamed itself. A little smile tugs on a corner of his lip, dimples only just visible. 

Something endearing lies behind his eyes. Something… pure. You lay flat on the bed again as you stare up at him. Quirking a brow, you silently question his motionless frame. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even seem to notice your subtle change of expression. He simply stares, admires. 

“Hobi?”

Your quiet voice lulls him back to you. He blinks, shakes his head then snaps his gaze back down to your chest, that little smile of his widening. Before you can question him again, both his hands cup your breasts. You gasp a moan, pushing your chest up against him again. 

Hobi just pushes you back down. He squeezes your tits together then dips his head between them. His wet lips push their way through only to blow and vibrate. He blubbers, babbles, saliva drenching your tits as he shakes his head between them. 

Never has a man been so obsessed, memorized by your body enough to motorboat you. Most of the time, your interaction with others lasts shorter than this. But here Hobi lays, shoving his face between your breasts. He’s infatuated with you enough to take his time. 

Moaning, rolling your hips up into his, you close your eyes and enjoy his little treat. Your hands slide from his shoulders to his back, hugging him closer to you. You feel that sinful tongue of his dart out again, licking a trail up to your pierced nipple only to envelop it in his mouth. Hands lost in his hair, you push his face further against you. You know full well that he can’t get any closer, but you try anyways. 

His teeth graze the silver stud, a quiet clatter of metal on teeth meeting your ears. Hobi looks up at you, holding your gaze, and gently tugs on your hardened nipple. In a pout, you mewl at the sight, the stinging, blissful sensation. A smirk graces his lips when he lets go. 

“You sound so fucking cute,” he chuckles, dipping his head to give your nipple a little kiss. 

He’s sweet and kind and you want to get lost in his eyes and honey voice. But, with his bulge rubbing against your shorts, all you can think about is how well he’d fit in your mouth. Using your feet, you push his sweatpants down his frame. 

Hobi chuckles under his breath before helping you out a bit and kicking his pants off. He dips his head back to your breasts, this time focusing his attention on your bare nipple. He gives it the same treat as the studded one, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mid tug, he trails a hand down your body, resting it upon your drenched center and asks, “when are these coming off?”

“When I get to suck you off.”

Your words leave you fast, unexpectedly. You’ve never been this unaware of yourself, uncomposed. Even in your most submissive moments, you’ve maintained a certain amount of control. However, with Hobi, it’s almost as though all that control becomes his. 

He quirks a brow up at you, releasing your nipple. Scanning your features, he judges how serious you are. With your chest heaving and gaze unwavering, he seems to conclude that you really mean it. 

“Want me to come up there?”

You fight off a smile and shake your head. Nudging his shoulder, you have him fall beside you, laying on his back. “I’ll come down to you,” you tell him as you sit on your knees and push your shorts off.

Hobi’s brows shoot up at your actions. He chews on his lips, eyes devouring every exposed inch of you. As his hand rests on your ass, gently rubbing it, you let your gaze traill down his chest to his tall, thick cock. It’s bigger than you thought it was. You know he’s big after watching his live streams, but you didn’t think he’d be this massive. Vein laced, precum smeared, pink tipped, his huge cock begs for your attention. You gulp now wondering if he’d fit in your mouth at all.

“You don’t have to,” Hobi whispers. You snap your gaze to his and you can see the concern that swims in his eyes. Is he worried that he won’t fit or that he’ll hurt you? 

Licking your lips, you collect any drool about to fall from the sight of his dick and shake your head. “No, I really want to.” Your tone is steady but voice breathless. Pressing your legs together, you can’t fight your need for him any longer. Without much thought, you throw your leg over his chest, straddling his torso as you position yourself in front of his dick. 

A gasp meets your wet folds and you freeze for a second, thinking that you may have acted out of pure greed. You’re about to move off him when his hands smack down on your thighs and slide up to your ass. He pushes your plump cheeks up and digs his fingertips into your little dimples. As you cat-lick his precum oozing tip, he runs the bridge of his nose through your folds. 

You moan loudly, his bold move provoking you to engulf his tip and then some into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and it’s only now that you realize, with your tongue sliding and looping around him, how thick he really is. It only makes you want more of him.

While you attempt to shove in another inch or two down your throat, Hobi laps his tongue over your pussy, favouring your clit over your entrance. After flicking it with the tip of his tongue, he purses his lips around your clit and sucks harshly. 

Through a gag, you moan around his length. Only half of him is lodged in your throat, and you thought you might be ready to take a bit more until he began to focus all his energy on your clit. You shudder against his lips. Closing your eyes, you try to recompose yourself. You have a job to do as well and you know you won't be able to do it right if all you focus on is how well he can work his mouth. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you continue your bobs up and down his length, working your hand on the last few inches you haven’t found the courage to shove in your mouth yet. 

Hobi can’t seem to keep his volume down. Every one of your harsh sucks and slurps has him crumbling into more of a moaning mess. Your jaw aches, eyes water but you work through it, living for every moan and groan that vibrates over your needy core. And though he continues to play around with your clit, the sounds you've sucked out of him have sprinkled a bit of hesitance in his approach. His previously sharp licks and suctions over your pussy have somewhat stuttered the faster your bounce your head up and down his length. 

He composes himself quicker than you do, however. Tongue poking in and out of your entrance, his thumb slides over to your clit and rubs hard circles around it. You squeal, choking on his cock at the sudden switch. However, that’s not what forces you to pull him out of your mouth. That thumb of his drenches itself in your juices and trails up the curve of your ass to smear your juices all over your asshole. As his mouth returns to your clit, he pushes his thumb into your ass, making you pull his cock out and throw our head back. 

You’re so lost in that new wave of pleasure, all attention on his cock falters. You grip onto his thighs and grind your hips into his mouth. Hobi smirks, but he’s not happy with your actions. His free hand comes down on your ass as a silent warning. You want to take it as such but with his thumb moving in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, you can’t find it in you to do anything else but whine and push your weight down on his face. 

Hobi growls against your wetness, teeth grazing your bud. Your eyes widen, and a loud moan pours out of you. He breaths a chuckle over your clit all while continuing to nibble on it. Lips still pressed against your aching heat, he questions, “who the fuck told you to stop?”

You wrap a hand back around cock, pumping him at a fast pace. Still, Hobi doesn’t think it’s enough. He withdraws his thumb from your ass and takes to fingering your instead. With two fingers thrusting in and out of you again, his mouth is free to latch onto your asshole. He licks and pokes his tongue in and out your tiniest hole while your body shakes over his. 

“Suck my dick, slut,” he orders with a growl, spanking you just to grab and grope you all over again. 

You don’t dare disobey a direct order. Wrapping your lips around his length, you immediately pick up where you left off and shove his thick cock down your throat. Ignoring every gag instinct, every urge to pull him out and take a proper breath before taking him in again. But, when he’s shaking his face between your cheeks, swirling his tongue around your hole and pushing his fingers in and out of you at an incomprehensible pace, you can’t focus, let alone think, about anything else. His cock falls out of your mouth once more. You don’t want to disappoint him, but how can he expect you to do anything when he’s making you feel so good? 

“Oh my god!” You scream. Sitting up on his face, you all but force him to take his fingers out of you and relatch his lips over your folds once more. You ride his face as your orgasm nears, a variety of curses pouring out of you in desperate moans. “Ahh, fuck yes! H-Hobi!”

He groans in response, smacking his pussy slick hands over your ass. He grips onto your supple flesh, pushing your ass up to get a better hold on your pussy. 

Your hips jolt over his mouth, eyes roll back. There’s not much more you can take. Body quaking, you warn, “I’m go-nna cum!”

“Do it!” Hobi rasps, sounding hungry and deprived. 

Your jaw falls open, high pitched moans tumbling out as your release gushes into his mouth. Hobi flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. You circle your hips around his face, mewling and whining as you grind out your orgasm. Hearing Hobi’s slurps and laps over your pussy only makes your body shudder and jolt all the more. 

His mouth suddenly escapes your needy hips. You huff a whine, looking over your shoulder at him. Hobi has his jaw pushed out and lips purses like he’s holding onto something in his mouth. You furrow your brows, about to question him when he pushes your body into the bed between his legs. 

Sitting up, Hobi leers over your ass while you’re left in suspense with your face buried in the sheets. He pulls your cheeks apart and drops a warm, thick dollop of saliva mixed cum. He uses his forefinger to rub it around your hole, catching any leaking streaks that rush back to your pussy. You shudder as a string of mewls muffles into the bed.

“Where’s your vibrator?”

You turn your head to the side, smushing your cheek into the mattress instead and ask, “Which one?” 

Hobi chuckles at your words. As he pushes his finger into your ass, he replies, “How many do you have?”

Gasping from the blissful sensation, you try to focus on the question. You only really have two. The yellow star-shaped one and that dildo you use when you really need a good fucking. But judging by the tone of his voice, he seems to be expecting a lot. You chew on your lip and debate on inflating that number. But what will you do if he asks to see them all? 

 “I-I’m not sure.”

“Take a guess.”

You pause. Balling the sheets into your hands, you swallow thickly. You know you should just be honest, but after that mediocre blow-job, you don’t think you can handle disappointing him any further. Still, it’s better and safer to tell the truth. Besides, you know full well that you can’t lie to him. It would break your heart more than his. 

“Just two,” you finally reply. “They’re at the table by the bed, first drawer.”

Hobi places a sweet kiss on each cheek before he shifts a bit behind you. The drawer opens and closes, Hobi shifting back in place again. “Is there something wrong with having just two?” He asks as he runs the curved edges of the star vibrator up and down your folds. 

Your pussy quivers at the sensation, hips greedily grinding against it. So needy for more, one would think you didn’t just cum a minute ago. “You tell me,” you whisper. After swallowing your moans, you ask, “Doesn’t two seem innocent?”

The toy stops mid stroke and you stiffen up with it. Maybe you’ve taken the comment too far, but you can’t deny the gnawing voice in your heart telling you he’s just here for a quick fuck. You’ve raised your hopes up too high, romanticized him too often not to take what he had said to heart. Chewing on your lip, you wonder if you should apologize for your tone and suggest to just continue all this without another word. You’re about to voice your idea when you feel his lips on your curves of your ass again, the wet toy moving once more. 

“There’s nothing wrong with a little innocence, Starfruit,” he mutters against your cheek. Trailing that toy up to your asshole, he grazes his teeth over your cheek and says, “It’s what makes you so sweet.”

As his teeth nibble on your skin, you quietly whine into the bed. Hobi holds you in place as you squirm, sensing your impatience to be played with again. “Deep breath,” he mutters against the curve of your ass. 

You inhale deeply and brace yourself for what you think might be coming next. Hearing your intake, and catching the way your shoulders rise, Hobi pushes the wet toy into your tight hole. There’s a bit of resistance, as you're not used to more than two fingers in there usually. However, the toy enters just fine. It stretches you so fucking well, making your left eye twitch the way it always does when you’ve reached pure bliss. 

“Besides,” Hobi suddenly continues. He shifts under you again, reaching back into the drawer. “You’re hardly innocent around me.”

The star buzzes to life in you. You gasp and sit up as your body shudders from the sudden jolt of pleasure. From your new position, you feel his tip poke at your clit and you can’t stop the squeal that escapes you then. Hobi wraps his arms around your waist, kissing the curve of your spine and igniting your lust frenzied nerves.  

“I gotta be in you, honey,” he mutters between kisses. 

“Yes, please.”

With a chuckle, Hobi nuzzles his face into your back. The gesture is so sincere, so casual that for a second you let yourself believe this is a usual occurrence. You let yourself believe that you and Hobi always find each other like this because you’re dating. You let yourself indulge in the fantasy that you belong to Hobi and he belongs to you. The second comes and goes, but you’re still left with his warm breath fanning on your back and sweet kisses trailing up your spine.

Hobi lifts your leg, muttering, “Under mine.” He positions both calves under his thigh and sits you on his lower stomach. His hands retreat off your body and you shiver from the loss of warmth his touch always brings. 

You look over your shoulder, curious, and find him lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He’s eyes lock on your ass. He admires it, studies it’s curves and the way it sits on his abdomen. Meeting your gaze, Hobi smirks. 

“Make it clap for me.”

The request has you breathless. It sparks the memory of your question all those moments ago, before things go so hot and heavy. How many times? How many times did he watch that video? 

With a shy smile, you turn back around and lean forward, resting your hands on the mattress between his legs. You take a deep breath then shake your ass, the claps subsequently following. Hobi groans behind you. You moan in response. The slow buzzes of the vibrator only heighten the act of shaking your ass over his abs. 

With that extra little treat for you, you feel a bit guilty. He’d been showering you with attention and affection. He’s made you cum twice already and all you’ve offered was a sloppy blowjob you couldn’t even follow through with. You want to give him that little extra bit of attention he never forgets to offer you. Ceasing you movements for a second, earning a light spank to continue, you lift your hips.

“I don’t remember you asking for my cock, Starfruit.” His tone is heavy with authority. It only makes it harder to ignore him. “And I sure as hell don’t remember telling you to stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass. This one is harder, stronger and you whimper at the warning. You can’t bear to ignore him any longer, knowing his patience will soon run out. “I just wanted to try something, Hobi.”

He grunts, but doesn’t say much more. You take this as approval to continue and sit your ass just before his cock, pussy resting on his heavy balls. His hands find your hips again, but they don’t grope you like they usually do. Instead, they simply rest there. You interpret this as a precautionary measure, in case you try anything without permission again. 

“Do you wanna watch it clap?”

Hobi hums in reponses, thumbs gently rubbing your skin. Leaning forward again, you push your ass back so his cock slips between your cheeks. The gasp that escapes him fills your chest with pride. A smile plays on your lips and you shake your ass once more, cheeks now clapping around his length. 

“Innocent, my ass,” you giggle. 

Hobi fills the room with that dark chuckle of his. You can hear the amusement of the joke and pleasure of the display from the tone of his voice. He smacks his hands down on your cheeks, helping them move fast around his cock. 

“Fucking slut,” he hisses as he tightens his grip. His hips suddenly jolt upwards causing you to almost fall over his lap. Hobi catches you before you slip off his lap, however, and holds you back in place. 

He huffs and hisses, moans and groans. You’re sure he’s about to cum, can even feel his cock twitching, but he stops you just before he lets himself go. “I just need to be inside you.” 

The desperation in his voice has you giggling. Hobi spanks the laughter out of you, grumbling, “Behave or you won’t cum for the rest of the night.”

You bite back a whine. Shyly looking over your shoulder, you find that wild urge resurface in his gaze again. He must’ve been really close to cumming. Hobi catches your gaze, a wicked smirk tugging on his lips. He reaches for the vibrator’s remote and turns the intensity up. You whimper and pull on the sheets in front of you. 

Lifting your hips, you nod at his warning and turn back around. You are met with your reflection from the full-length mirror by your closet. It’s parallel to your bed so you can see yourself sink down on Hobi’s massive cock and watch as well as feel your pussy stretch so fucking well from his girth. “H-Hobi,” you squeal as he guides your hips further down his shaft. 

“Hoseok,” he corrects. 

You cease all movement, already halfway down his length. The vibrator is still humming loudly in you, only just distracting you from what you’ve just heard. Did he just tell you his real name? He’d been so adamant on keeping it to himself, even refusing to know yours. Yet, here he lies. With his hands secured on your hips and cock ruining you for all other men, perhaps even toys, he tells you his name. 

“Is it too much?” He suddenly asks while adjusting his hold on your hips. 

You shake your head, breathlessly muttering, “No, it’s perfect.” 

It’s not until he’s guiding you back down on him do you realize he was talking about his cock. You suck in a breath and wait until you’ve completely taken in him before whimpering your name. He grips onto your hips tighter and growls. The reaction is enough to fill you with worry. You fear he may not have wanted to know your name, that he only wanted you to scream his. 

“(Y/N)”

His moans carry on as you circle your hips around his cock. Each syllable of your name sounds more desperate and greedy than the last. And when you finally switch to bouncing, ass clapping down on his thighs in loud smacks, he growls your name. Over and over again, you’re dripping off the tip of his tongue. All he thinks about is you, all he says is you, all he sees is you. 

Ass in bliss, pussy in pleasure, your body meets heaven and your mind overflows with everything Hoseok. You can’t get enough of him or the way he utters your name in that fruity, lively voice of his. 

You think this is all the pleasure you need when he sits himself up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand sliding down from your hips to rub your clit while the other slides up. You catch his gaze in the reflection and offer a shy smile before you feel him yank your tank top down once more and expose your breasts. 

Bouncing uncontrollably, your tits are all his attention can focus on now. He doesn’t even make a move to grope one of them, too consumed by the way they move to disturb their rhythm. The mere sight of him continuously being mesmerized by you only brings you closer to your high. Your pussy tightens around him again and you can’t ignore the twitch of his cock this time. You giggle at his reflection, drawing his attention away from your tits. 

“You’re ready to cum again, Starfruit?” 

The smirk he wears is just as deadly as the size of his cock. 

You crumble beneath it, whimpering a tiny, “Yes, please, Hobi.”

He kisses your shoulder and nods, as if giving you the approval to cum whenever. Your eyes roll back, moans intensify and body seems to be losing all composure for the third time tonight. You screw your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm nearing but Hoseok replaces his kisses for a little bite on your shoulder. Gasping a moan, you snap your eyes open and meet his gaze once more. 

“Look at me,” he orders in a hushed tone. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

You expected to find that untamed animalistic look in his eyes, or maybe even a barrier of distance to remind you that this is just a one time thing. Instead, you find affection. Within those lust-blown pupils, you find that glowing sunshine-like sparkle of sincerity. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. 

Just like that, while holding his gaze and getting lost in his eyes, your ograsm overtakes the entirety of your body. Grounding your ass into hips, you shudder, whimper and tear your sheets out from under his legs. You’ve lost the ability to hold that honest gaze of his and completely shatter from the force of your orgasm. Mind whirling, ears ringing, you feel like the wind has got knocked out of you too. Seeing stars, you can’t think straight. All you can feel is him. 

And while you’re losing yourself, gushing and convulsing all over him, Hoseok continues to rub harsh circles around your clit and rolls his hips up into yours. He further gets himself off all while helping you ride out your high as well. He groans in your ear as it rings and finally takes to groping your breast again. He grabs at anything, wanting to feel all of you as his dick twitches once more. With your warm cum coating his cock, Hoseok can’t hold himself back any longer. He locks his arms around your waist, holds you still over his hips and releases a heavy load of his cum. 

“(Y/N)” he growls as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

You lean your head back against his shoulder. Eyes closed, mouth pouring moans, you revel in the ropes of cum he shoots in you. He fills you up all too well that you know you’ll cry if this is a first and last time occurrence. Your pussy quivers from the nonstop friction, that vibrator in your ass not doing you any favours to slow the process of overstimulation. You tell yourself that the moment Hoseok is done, you’re going to demand that he take that vibrator out and give you a moment to collect yourself before even thinking about another round. 

But then he nuzzles his face into your skin and you melt into his frame. You feel him inhale your scent and smile against you. Biting your lip, you force yourself to endure another moment or two of overstimulation if it means he can stay this happy for a little bit longer. 

“Ah, shit,” he suddenly mutters into the nape of your neck. “You alright, honey?”

You open your eyes and find him staring at your fucked out reflection with a look of concern. Meekly, you nod but he doesn’t buy it. He unwraps his arms around you and pushes your body forward. You whine and whimper, wanting to fight against it since that angle seems to give a whole new wave of pleasure you’re certain you cannot handle right now. 

“Bend over, honey,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”

You moan out of frustration, your ass starting to become just as sensitive to the touch as your pussy is. Still, you know you can trust him, and bend over. “Careful.”

Hoseok kisses your asscheek and mutters, “always,” before gently tugging on the yellow rubber line to pull the star out. He sighs at whatever sight rests in front of him, but you’re all too consumed with recovering from such a hard orgasm. The ringing in your ears has barely stopped and you keep telling yourself that if you keep taking deep breaths you just might be about to settle your heart down and regain your sense of sound. 

The buzzing suddenly ceases, a little clatter on your night table momentarily filling the silence. Hoseok then slowly pushes your hips off his softening cock, rubbing your ass in hopes of soothing all those little mewls that leave you. 

He then gasps and you can already tell that you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next. 

“I know you’re sensitive,” he starts. You whine, already knowing where this is leading. “But, you need to get cleaned up somehow.”

You shudder and grip onto the sheets as a precaution. The ringing in your ears has somewhat settled, but you don’t get comfortable with that fact just yet. After a long whine, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Hoseok breaths a chuckle and you hear him pat a spot next to him. Heaving, you look over your shoulder at the vacant space beside him. You sigh and crawl over there, lying on your back and spreading your legs immediately. Hoseok runs a hands down your torso, watching as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. The two of you work around each other like this is a nightly routine, and you’re not mad about that. 

Once you’re settled, he positions himself between your legs and dips his head down to your pussy. You close your legs around his face in an instant, the sensitivity being too much to handle too soon. Hoseok doesn’t care; he works through it. He laps and licks up every part of your mixed cum. Soon, however, his hands get a hold of your thighs and he pulls them apart. He shakes his head as he devours your pussy once more and you find yourself having to tug on his hair to get him off you. 

“Hoseok, pl-please!” You whine, attempting to close your legs once more. 

Unlatching his lips from your overstimulated pussy with a little wet pop, he sits up and smirks down at your fucked out state. You bring your legs together, cross your ankles and pull your knees into your chest as the last remnants of your orgasm shudders through you. 

The bed dips beside you. Hoseok makes himself comfortable. He lies next to you, chest heaving and eyes locked on the ceiling. And once you feel your orgasm finally pass through, you unfold yourself. Your nakedness has never been more apparent to you until now. With lustful desires trickling away, all that remains is the bareness of your bodies and the hovering reality of your emotions.

You shift your weight and pull your comforter over your curves, quickly shielding yourself before he can look over and get another look at you. You freeze all over when he spares you a glance, curious as to what you’re doing. It’s like you didn't just spend the better part of an hour or so screaming his name. 

Hoseok smirks, gaze wandering down your covered frame anyways. His eyes don’t need to undress you, knowing exactly what you look like from what angle, yet they still do. He finds your gaze again, breath stabilizing, and mimics your actions. Shifting to get under the sheets, Hoseok asks, “Are you okay?”

The question stunts you. Actually, the fact that he’s still here and not halfway through getting dressed stunts you. You can only stare at him for a moment, your ears regaining full ability and chest ceasing its full rises and falls. 

He furrows his brows. Taking your silence as avoidance from the truth, he says, “You can tell me if I hurt you. I’m sorr-”

“Aren’t you leaving?” Your question sounds colder than intended. And the fact that you cut him off to ask it, is not doing you any favours. 

Hoseok can only stare back at you, speechless. He chews on his lip and scoffs a dry sigh before you quickly correct your intentions. 

“Not that I want you to leave.” A brow of his quirks in interest. “It’s just… I thought that’s what you’d want to do.”

He must see the fear in your eyes, must hear the earnest plea to stay in your voice as he shifts closer to you and tucks an arm under your head. You scoot closer to him too, sweaty bodies colliding once more. Your arms draped over the other’s waist, you pull each other closer. His breath fans over your hot face and you slowly trail your gaze up from his neck to his eyes. 

Lips less than an inch apart, Hoseok mutters, “If it’s up to me, neither one of us would ever leave.” He nudges your nose with his, brushing that hoop piercing against your skin.

Your hand slides up to his face, caressing his cheek while your thumb rubs his chin. You want to tell him you feel the same way, that you’d want to be in any moment as long as he’s there with you. But, he seems to read that in your eyes, in the way you hold his gaze shamelessly and flash that shy smile. 

Your lips are so close now, you’re exchanging breaths, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. Instead he whispers, “Thirteen.”

You knit your brows as confusion riddles your face. 

“You asked how many times I’ve watched your video; thirteen.”

Thirteen. Your mind struggles to comprehend that reality, eyes searching his face for signs of dishonesty. You only find genuineness and a hint of admiration in his eyes and the way he says, “Starfruit; (Y/N).”

“You couldn’t have gotten off that many times,” you scoff.

“I didn’t.” 

Your nerves jolt into another heartwarming frenzy as your body freezes over with realization. It’s never been about just sex, it’s never been about cameras and live streams. It’s only ever been about finding the one on the screen, finding the hope you’ve been searching for every time either one of you logs on and scrolls through comments.

“I just came back from an errand. Jin wanted cake and Jimin was too tired to get out.” He suddenly starts, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pause for a moment, realizing that Jin and Jimin have a third roommate. “I was about to go inside when I saw you walk out of your apartment. I honestly couldn’t believe it was you. But I knew it the moment I saw those yellow shorts.”

Your breath hitches and he smiles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You walked so fast,” he chuckles. “And by the time I figured out what I wanted to say, you were already on the elevator. I was honestly about to just go back inside and forget the entire thing. I even opened the door. I couldn’t go in, though. I just needed to see you one last time.” 

He pauses to press a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. You flutter your eyes shut, melting into his existence. He continues, “I ran down the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. When I saw you checking the mail, I'm not sure what came over me. I pretended to be doing the same thing. I didn’t think you’d be that embarrassed about the video.”

Slowly, you open your eyes and meet his apologetic gaze. Heart swooning, you let out a shaky breath and confess in a quiet mutter, “I don’t want to be a camgirl.”

“What?”

“I sent you that video because I wanted you to notice me again. And you’ve been looking so sad and tired during your lives, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit.” 

Hoseok stares, brows knitted, lips parted. You open your mouth to apologize when he presses his lips to yours, engulfing you in a whirlwind of soft gold emotions. You drink in every breath, curling your tongue around his. 

“I lied about you being innocent.”

You blink. 

“Well, you are innocent but that’s not the reason why I told you not to live stream. I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not very happy with the idea of sharing you either.”

“I really like your ass.”

You pause. Your war of confessions hovers over your tangled bodies but all you can do is laugh at his words. He can’t hold back the laughter bubbling from his chest either, and you feel the sweet rumble of his chuckles before you hear them. He gingerly leans in for another kiss but it seems to be more teeth than lips as you two try to laugh through the kiss. 

The hand resting on your waist trails down to your ass, rubbing gentle circles around it as your laughter trickles out. You kiss him again, properly and with little tongue so you can focus on the way his lips move against yours. 

When he pulls away, he shares his last confession. “I hate streaming.”

You bite back a gasp, chewing on your lips. He takes this as a sign to continue. “I mean, I used to love it. It just seems like more work than it’s worth now. And I want moments like this more often.”

“You’re quitting,” you whisper in realization. 

He nods. 

You hum, nodding along as everything begins to make sense. You conclude that he must’ve felt this way for a while and that’s why there was a sudden shift in his demeanour. 

Pushing his hair back, you softly kiss his cheek and mutter against his skin, “I started watching for Hobi. But, I sent that video to Hoseok.”

Bodies flushed, Hoseok shudders against you. Eyes flutter shut, hearts beat in sync, and as you drift further into this daydream, you hear the lingering words he breathes into your hair. 

“You’re an angel, (Y/N). Sweeter than Starfruit.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission. 

[burntmcnuggies]

My Sweet Love

Dabi x Sweet Reader

Request: Hey!💗Сan I, please, have a girlfriend for Dabi who likes sweets? Candy, cakes, berries, stuff like that. And she always leaves some sweets for Dabi, because she knows that he will come to her apartment, even if she is not at home. And basically she leaves quite a lot of food for him. Thank you💗

warnings: none, just a fluffy story with a bit of angst at the end inspired by the latest manga chapters! Also my apologies for making it a bit angsty, I was in a mood haha

Word Count: 2.8K

There they were again.

The endless amount of sweets stacked upon the kitchen table for the flame-quirked villain.

Why you left so many sweets out for him was beyond his own comprehension. He couldn't even understand why you weren't a human cupcake by now with how many sweets you’d been leaving him lately. He's seen those videos you’ve shown him of 'is it cake?' and sadly watched people stab each other with forks or some other stupid shit. He's warned you before that if you ever approached him with a fork, he would burn you to a crisp. A sigh escaped his soft and wrinkly lips once he noticed there wasn't any real food around for him. The ebony-haired villain approached the pile of sweets for him, carefully picking up the small little note beside it, cringing at the silly nickname he loved but hated at the same time.

'Hey dabeebee! I left you some sweets because you are the sweetest thing in my life! :3 I know you'll probably complain looking for real food, I have hidden all of it outside just for you! If you want soba I left a pot out on the stove for you to use and put some water in it.

I love you so much dabeebee! <3

~(Y/N) : )

"Cheesy little shit..." He mumbled, searching around for some cheap booze. Of course, you had none in your possession, judging by you were only 21 and an innocent cautious adult. He sighed and finally stumbled upon a pack of instant ramen, forgetting the pot for soba on the stove deeming it too much work. He put it in the microwave and heated it up, watching the little plastic cup spin around. He took it out and slurped the noodles in the cup, savoring the flavor in his mouth. The heated food made his whole body slump in relaxation. Working for the league was tiring, and he’d lazily complained multiple times to you about it. He’d groan Shigaraki was being a spoiled little child, and get angry when he was forced to work with Geten. Ever since he came to you after their first battle, he had despised the ice-user.

Winter was when he became the most sensitive. Emotionally.

For whatever reason the villain would come visit you more often in the winter, struggling to concentrate whenever he was with you. It was like his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that made him sad. Hot cocoa always cheered him up in the slightest, something warm to melt the ice slowly starting to grow around his heart. Every time he saw you though, it all melted already, your soft voice and gentle touches taking away his pain. You were too sweet. “Stupid idiot...” He mumbled and finished his little cup of instant ramen. He strolled lazily up the stairs, a blank look on his face as he approached the door to your room. He stopped in front of the door and looked inside, pleased with the sight of you sleeping peacefully, unaware of his presence.

He stared at blankly, not a single thought running through his head as he began to shed his blemished jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Next came his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal more of the scarred flesh everyone always claimed to be disgusting. He easily removed his boots and pants, only left in his boxers. Pulling the covers back slightly, he eased himself into bed beside you, turquoise eyes burning holes into your slumbering form. His hand reached out towards your face, gently caressing it with what little was left of his humanity instead of scarred dead skin. “I hate you.” He whispered, not even bothering to speak the words he knew you already knew. A smile graced your lips feeling his touch, instantly knowing it was your lover due to the warmth radiating off of him.

His unspoken words lingered in the air as he pulled you closer towards him, refusing to let you go.

‘I hate you, because I love you so much.’

——

When you woke up and found Dabi in your bed, you couldn’t help but smile ear to ear seeing your handsome boyfriend snuggled against you. He barely got any good sleep, so you wanted him to sleep as long as he could. He was a light sleeper, like extremely light. He briefly mentioned something in his past always kept him alert and on edge, having problems with insomnia and pain. You weren’t stupid. You knew the aspect of Dabi’s powerful quirk, and how much spreads through his body when he over uses his terrifying flames. Carefully easing yourself out of bed, kissing his head very very softly, you tip-toed down to the kitchen to see if Dabi had eaten any of your little experiments.

They were all sadly still there.

“Damnit! If he doesn’t eat something then I won’t know what to get him for his birthday... it’s in a couple days...” You announced to yourself, sighing heavily. It was true, putting the candy out was to get Dabi to reveal what kind of candy he liked, or flavor of cake, anything to give you the slightest hint on what he would enjoy! That was why you hid the food, you were hoping he would settle and eat what he wanted to. That wasn’t the case. “Tonight I’ll put some cake slices out and label them... maybe then! Maybe then he’ll choose one!” A sweet smile spread across your lips, putting all the candy away and putting all the normal food back. All the while unaware of a pair of ears that had been listening the whole time.

——

Dabi left early that morning, going off to do some villainous work before he approached your house in the middle of the night. It was around at least 2am when he arrived. His body ached, skin burning and smoking. Today had been especially rough, but the cool air that gently blew against his hot skin made him feel better. But the aching in his heart made him feel all the more hot with rage and anger. His memories plagued his mind briefly before he remembered what laid waiting for him at your house. That’s right. It was his birthday in a couple days. And the extremeness of your efforts was to figure out once and for all what his favorite sweet was. He just wasn’t a fan of sweets and preferred spicy foods.

“That idiot. Always such a hassle. Possibly worse than that crusty bastard.” He mumbled to himself, rubbing his scarred up neck gently. He didn’t understand himself how he could love someone who’s blood was probably 100% sugar and had a personality sweeter than that. He found your spare key easily, slipping the key into the lock and letting himself inside. As per usual, there were sweets on the table, cake to be exact. There were 5 different slices laid out, each labeled. He approached the neatly cut slices, bright pink flowery post it notes under them.

Vanilla! :D

Chocolate! :D

Red Velvet! :D

Lemon! :D

Cheesecake! :D

‘Good morning Dabeebee! :3

I’m sure it’s like past 1am or 2 or something, so good morning! I hope your day was okay <3 I missed you! I didn’t hide the food this time because you still found it last time! >:( But please try these cake slices! I made them all myself! I loooooove you! >///<

~(Y/N) :)

The dark haired villain rolled his eyes, sighing heavily as he shrugged off his heavy navy coat. He hung it up lazily so he wouldn’t make a mess or wake you and crossed his arms staring at the slices. His turquoise eyes observed each slice, lips set in a firm line as he thought about the textures and icing. His calloused hands grabbed onto the metal of a fork, hoping it wouldn’t melt at the heat his body was still emitting from his hard “work” of the day. A bite of each would be sure to satisfy you right? He dove the fork into the first slice, chocolate, and carefully placed the spongy sweet into his mouth. He recoiled. ‘It’s too sweet.’

As Dabi continued trying the sweets, the vanilla/yellow cake was probably his favorite, but he still didn’t want a cake. He didn’t really want anything for his birthday. Well, maybe to be dead, but that seemed unrealistic now. He sat down on the couch, mind now becoming hazy and foggy with depressing thoughts. His hands clasped together, blunt nails slowly digging into the top parts of his hands that weren’t scarred. The stables began to burn, almost like the first time they were in. His hands grew shaky, eyes blankly staring at the ground in a horrific daze. He didn’t even notice the way his breathing had turned unstable. The scars increased in heat, even though there were no more flames there to hurt him. His hazy eyes cast upwards and his whole entire world almost shattered.

The villain shot up and punched the TV in front of him as hard as he could, beating the screen senseless, panicking as he tried to rid his brain of the reflection that glared back at him. The mere sight and thought of red flames coming near him made his stomach sick with anxiety and fear, especially in the safety of your home. His eyes began to burn with tears, but sadly his tear ducts burned almost with his sanity a long time ago. His fists became bloody and bruised, body becoming numb to the sound of his name being called loudly. As soon as a hand made contact with his arm, he jerked around and swung at whatever had touched him, fearing the worst. That was when his heart shattered, eyes wide in fear once he realized he had just knocked you down to the floor.

“(Y/N)? Ah, shit.” He quickly kneeled down beside you and raised his shaky hands, scared to even touch you. There was a large mark on the side of your cheek, tears already built up in your eyes. Dabi’s chest heaved in and out heavily, eyes burning hard as blood leaked from under his stapled skin. Choked and held in sobs racked through his body like thunder. It hurt so much, it hurt that he couldn’t cry, it hurt to have a constant reminder of his past, reminders of his failure, and it hurt to know that he was unwanted and incapable of being loved by another human being. People saw him as a monster, a freak with no heart.

“You’ve failed me as a son, it’d been better if you weren’t even born.”

He let out a loud cry for help, even though the words never came from his mouth, the simple scream of pain was enough to convey his silent plea. His heart, his eyes, his skin, his stomach, his head, his chest, his lungs, everything hurt, a pain he couldn’t handle by himself. “FUCK!!” He shouted, blood dripping onto the floor with the crack of his broken voice. His whole body recoiled and flinched once he felt your soft hands gently caressing his scarred forearm. Why weren’t you leaving? Why weren’t you yelling at him? Why didn’t you hit him back? Why did you take his small abuse so quietly just like he did? Why were you just silently comforting him in the smallest way? “(Y/N)-“

“Shh, it’s okay now Dabi.” He flinched at your voice, firm yet soft, unwavering, no fear or disgust present at all. Just a loving tone for your significant other. Your hands gently pushed his forearms away from him, and you pulled him Into a tight hug, head buried into his neck. “There’s no need to cry, or fear anything... I’m here, Dabi... it’s okay... I’ve got you, honey.” His eyes widened at your sugary words, comforting him even though he’d just hit you. He inhaled your scent, shaking hands slowly resting against your back, squeezing you close with blood still dripping from his scarred cheeks. “Shh... there, there sweetheart, I’ve got you, and I’m never going to let you go okay...? I love you, Dabeebee.”

Love.

Such a big word you throw around so carelessly with him. Hearing such words always made him feel warm and happy inside. Something he missed out on, and had never experienced until he met you. Your poor excuse to cheer him up worked only a little, when he mumbled out an insult. “You’re so fuckin’ stupid you know that? I’m honestly shocked you’re still alive and I haven’t incinerated you yet...” His meaningless insults warmed your heart, your Dabi was slowly coming back. You ignored the harsh stinging of your cheek and focused solely on Dabi, and making him feel better. His breathing was slowly calming down, sniffling and wiping the blood that leaked from his abused burnt up tear ducts. “Do you feel better, Dabeebee?”

“What a stupid question to ask.” He mumbled and pulled away, composing himself briefly before he stared at you longingly. His beautiful turquoise eyes linger to your cheek stained red and he felt his heart break all over again. “Fuck, I’m... fuck I’m sorry... I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” Now that was a rare sight to see, the Dabi apologizing to you? The man who swore to take out the super human society, the man who taunts heroes and kills, apologizing to you? A lowly civilian with a mediocre quirk not good enough to be recognized by society. “This isn’t like you, Dabi... what’s wrong my love? Does it have something to do with your birthday?” He didn’t reply, turquoise eyes just staring down at the floor with a dull gleam. It answered your question as you continued. “I’m sorry... you should’ve told me.”

“Shut up you sweet-loving psycho. It happens every year... this year’s just especially worse.” The villain lowly mumbled as he embraced you. The house was silent for a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the wind rustling outside and the heater turning back and forth. He finally spoke up after his racing heart had calmed. “...I promise, I’ll tell you everything one day. Now isn’t the right time.” That sent a small pang to your heart, after 2 years of dating and he still didn’t open up to you about his past. But god did you still love him with all of your heart. He slowly pulled his blood soaked face away from you, touching the streaks of irony red that flowed from his patchy purple scars. The next thing you knew his eyes were locked with yours, staring intently as if you were the only thing in the world to him. “Just know I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’ll burn them alive and see them in hell to kick their ass again. You’re... the first person to ever see me this vulnerable. Be lucky.”

You smiled. “That’s my Dabi...” Once your lips locked gently with his, the night faded away. Dabi held you tightly in his arms, not wanting to let you go, not wanting to let you slip through his fingers. His heart was still eating him alive at what he had done to you. He had never loved anyone more than he loved you. No one else would’ve accepted him, stayed with him, appreciated his company, love the way he looked even though he hated himself, and loved him for who he was. You didn’t see the evil in his heart, only the pain and rage that wouldn’t stop surfacing.

He hated doing this to you.

The city was in a panic, all evacuated from the Dangerous parts that villains had raided. Dabi had made sure you were somewhere where no one could hurt you. He’d told you to visit your parents a bit farther in Japan, promising he’d return. Of course your protested with a pout, you always did. He loved that too, always wanting to spend time with him. The inky black drops of dye fell off his naturally red hair stained white. His turquoise eyes burned with rage and excitement as he stared down at the man who’d ruined his life. He thought back to you, how you were witnessing his confession, his pain in the television, learning his identity. It hurt to not be there to comfort you, but he needed to do this. He was just happy he’d told you before he ended everything. To finally have closure in his heart.

His staples burned again, blood slowly falling from his scared skin.

*static*

“Now that you all know the truth...” His eyes locked with the camera. “I love you (Y/N). My Sweet Lover.” A pure loving smile. “Ill see you again.”

*static*