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troubatrain · 3 years

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tis the damn season - m. tkachuk

a/n: as we all know, i am an absolute whore for a christmas fic and when i listened to evermore yesterday i knew this needed to be done. i literally haven’t written anything this fast in forever but i hope you guys like it!! (also tagging @igor-shestyorkin @blueskrugs & @fenwaynightlights for reading this last night and telling me it was good so i’d actually finish it ily)

The second you walked into the party, Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you. He knew you were coming, but watching you step into his parent’s house with a plate of your famous chocolate chip cookies and a smile that made his heart skip a beat, was almost taunting him. You dated forever ago, the last real relationship Matthew had ever been in, and by the looks of it - it was staying like that. You greeted everyone, down to the biggest hug to his grandparents who swore you were going to be Matthew’s wife one day. That was because that’s just how you were, kind and smart and constantly impressing anyone who Matthew introduced you too. Every teammate he had at the time loved you, and he knew if you were in Calgary his team now would be the same. Brady adored you, even admitting to his brother he still called you for girl advice because if Matthew fumbled the bag when it came to you there was no way Brady should take his advice. Matthew couldn’t even think about your relationship with his sister, or how crushed she was when you broke up. Then there was his parents, his mom swore it would be okay. That it was just Matthew’s first love and eventually he’d find his forever but he knew she was lying. Matthew found forever with you, and he let it implode because his dream was just more important at the time. Now, he could be at the top of the world and none of it mattered because you weren’t by his side.

Matthew just felt dumb now, because you were on to bigger and better things and you weren’t hung up on your high school ex-boyfriend. You went off to college, crushed it, and moved back into St. Louis with a near perfect job offer and success practically radiating off of you. He was standing in his kitchen in the worst Bud Light Christmas sweater like an eighteen year old frat boy and you looked every bit like the goddess Matthew knew you were. The perfect Christmas red dress you were wearing sat on your frame flawless, and it was obvious that red was still your color.

“I can leave if you want me to?” You ask, leaning into Matthew when you finally made your way over to him. Your voice was low, mouth close to Matthew’s ear while you hugged him so no one could hear you ask. You were an infinitely better person than he was, so of course you asked him if it was okay to stay.

“You’re always welcome here, you know that,” Matthew answers, sipping his beer for some liquid courage he desperately needed.

“Just because your mom invites me doesn’t mean I need to be here,” You shrug, “Maybe you’ve got someone here…”

He would never. Matthew had never even considered it, what it would be like to bring someone home that wasn’t you. There wasn’t one person in Calgary who could measure up, and despite the fact that his family loved him and would accept anyone with open arms, deep down Matthew knew you would always be on their minds.

“I don’t,” Matthew says, trying to stop himself from wrapping his arm around your waist while you stand with your chest still pressed against his from your hello hug, “I mean what would be the point? They don’t make cookies like you do.”

Matthew had to joke, cover up the fact that he was never able to let go of what you had and choke it down with beer he was drinking. He liked seeing you, the same times he did every year. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the occasional summer BBQ was something he looked forward to, sometimes he even hoped for an extra reason for you to both be somewhere. He knew you’d come, because you wouldn’t dare deny his mother’s invitation.

“Of course you noticed I made them,” You rolled your eyes, pushing Matthew back jokingly, “Remember when you used to beg me to make them-”

You stopped yourself when you noticed where this was going, you never brought up the before times. The times when Matthew would give you his best puppy dog eyes for you to bake him something, followed by a plea to just look the other way when he devoured the entire plate.

“Maybe it’s best we broke up, I probably never would’ve gotten drafted by eating these,” Matthew teases, sliding past you to grab a cookie off the counter and taking a big bite, “Because fuck these are good.”

Matthew’s moans in delight sent a chill up your spine. You hated that he could still do that to you, because it was the same thing every time. You’d see him, and for a moment you’d think that this would work itself out. You could get back together, and falling in love would be just as sweet a second time, but it wouldn’t work. You were settling into your own, a fresh lease signed in your new apartment you were going to move into after New Year’s, and Matthew was going to go back to Calgary where he was a big deal. That was always the dream, to make it big in the league and make his parents proud. Matthew was doing it, not that you ever doubted him, but you were proud nonetheless.

The thing was, because Matthew was doing the damn thing, he gave up you. It was like a deal he made with the devil when he was seventeen, he could have everything he ever wanted if he didn’t have you to hold him back. You always knew that was why he broke up with you, it was the right person at the wrong time.

“It’s nice to see you Matthew,” You muse, biting the inside of your cheeks to hold back the grin on your face. You stopped the conversation before it started, constantly trying to make this as painless as possible, but it wasn’t always easy.

“Wait, uh, you’re going to be here until Christmas right?” Matthew asks, grabbing your attention before you slipped out of the kitchen. Matthew was hopeful, catching a flight a few days earlier than he usually could and landing before Christmas gave him more time to see you.

“I’ll be at my parents house,” You nod, thinking about your childhood bedroom that was currently covered in moving boxes while you waited to settle into your new place.

“Oh sweet,” Matthew takes another swing of his drink, trying to keep his cool because you were the only person who made him completely uncool.

“Yeah, sweet, I’ll see you around,” You wave, disappearing into the kitchen. Matthew takes a deep breath, collecting his thoughts for a minute until Brady stepped in front of him. His little brother scoffed, a stupid smirk on his face when he finally spoke.

“Dude that was painful to watch.”

***

Matthew had no idea what the fuck he was doing. His feet were just carrying all two hundred and two pounds of his body in the exact direction of your house. He was drunk, well over the limit of how many whiskey shots he could even handle. He looked at his watch, it was almost three in the morning but if he didn’t get it out now when would he ever. He loved you, and all he could think about is what would happen if he could have just had one more night with you. Maybe you’d feel it, you’d always been pretty intuitive with his feelings, because he was awful with them. He had to make his case, did he even have one?

Oh hey Y/N, I know I’m hammered and it’s three in the morning the day before Christmas Eve but I want you to know I’m still in love with you.

That wouldn’t work, and he was going to have to do better than that. He could turn around and go home, but if he had to watch another one of your Instagram stories and pray that whoever was in them wasn’t your boyfriend again - he would lose his mind before he made it to the holidays next year. He snuck past the gate into your yard, not surprised to see your whole house was sleeping quietly. He picked up a few pebbles from your mother’s garden, shaking them in his hand and hoping you remembered the way he let you know he was outside when you’d sneak out in high school.

One.

Two.

Three.

You were woken up by the sound of three pebbles hitting your window, and you rub your eyes in disbelief by what you were hearing. Matthew wasn’t outside your window at three in the morning looking for you, why would he even think about it?

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask, poking your head out the window and crossing your arms to battle the cool air blowing through.

“Come down?” Matthew asks, wiping his palms on the back of his jeans and giving you his best smile. A real one, because you’d always been able to tell when it was fake.

You should’ve closed the window, and pushed Matthew to the back of your mind until you found yourself creeping on his Instagram again. You were always a good listener, and you always tried to do the right thing but Matthew was your vice. He’d always been a little bit a bad boy, but never enough to stop you from coming back for more. So you opened your window a little more, slipping down and scaling down your house just like you used to.

Matthew could have pretended like he didn’t notice, his last name faded on the back of the hoodie you were wearing, but he couldn’t. You looked just as cute in it as you did all of those years before, “Seven was such a good number on you, I wish I could have kept it.”

You could feel the heat on your cheeks, hoping Matthew couldn’t catch it in the moonlight, “Why are you here?”

“I want one more night,” Matthew takes a deep breath, standing his ground, “I, uh fuck-”

Matthew Tkachuk had never been good with words. He put his foot in his mouth, all the time, but his plea was something you never thought you’d hear. It was Christmas, you were lonely, and a part of you wondered the same thing. So you said fuck it and decided that this was your problem later, pressing your lips to Matthew’s. Your hands gripped his shirt, trying to get as close to him as you could. Matthew was dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers digging into your sides.

“Can you be quiet?” You ask, pointing at the back door. It was the middle of the night and your parents room was on the first floor but if Matthew was quiet enough you could get him upstairs easily - you used to do it all the time.

Matthew nodded eagerly, following you inside and tip-toeing up the stairs. He was doing a terrible job, either he’d gotten bigger or the floors in your parents house had gotten creakier.

“You said you could be quiet,” You tease, letting Matthew push you against the door, he twisted the lock, smirking at you.

“I’m a lot bigger than I used to be,” Matthew declares, fake puffing out his chest.

“I noticed…” You muse, running over your hands over his shoulders. He’d gotten broader with age, and it wasn’t something that was lost on you. You press your lips to his, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him closer. Your fingers crept up to his curls, tugging on them slightly. Matthew smirked against your lips, “I missed that.”

“I missed you,” Matthew mutters, wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you to your bed. You squeal, tucking your head into shoulder to stop the noise, “Who’s the loud one now?”

“Well don’t stop kissing me then,” You tease, grabbing Matthew and pulling him on top of you. You worked quickly, a pile of clothes in the corner of your that was going to be addressed later. Matthew’s lips were on your neck, his finger circling your clit while you bit your lip hold back a moan, “Matty please-”

The nickname slipped your lips so easily it was like you never should have stopped calling him that. Matthew took notice, and it was like music to his ears, “Anything you want babe.”

“Fuck me,” You breathe out, desperate for as much of him as you could get. Matthew slipped out of his boxers, pumping himself a few times before he gave you a look. You nodded, giving him the go ahead and pulling his lips back to yours. Matthew slipped inside you, and it’d never felt better.

Matthew was better now, much much better. His hips were snapping into you, a near perfect pace while grunts left his lips. The pleasure was almost too much, and you could feel your nails scratching into his back while you bit into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet. His hand snaked down to your clit, “Cum for me babe, c’mon.”

You clenched around him, the sensation was enough to send Matthew over the edge, spilling into you. He dropped to his elbows, placing lazy kisses on your skin while you basked in the post sex glow. Matthew’s skin was glistening against the moonlight from your window, his breath in your ear while you caught yours and it all felt right.

“You know you have to go now,” You remind him, “My dad will murder you if he catches you up here.”

“I know,” Matthew bumps his nose against yours, pressing one more kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow? Or later?”

Later. It had completely slipped your mind that in just a few hours you were going to be forced to run an annual day before Christmas Eve 5k with the Tkachuk’s like you did every year. The idea was somehow worse than doing it on Thanksgiving, and now you had to see Matthew after you let him fuck you in your childhood bedroom. You watched Matthew dress himself, hopping out your window and back to his own house.

Now you just needed some sleep.

***

You felt like shit, and you were missing the iced coffee you didn’t have a chance to get while you trailed behind your parents to meet the Tkachuk’s. You greeted everyone, stopping at Matthew last, you were unsure of how to even greet him after what you’d just done a few hours before. He didn’t think anything of it, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his chest.

“Here,” Matthew says, nudging his cup towards you. You assumed it was coffee, but then the taste of a mimosa hit your tongue.

“Jeez,” You choke, coughing while you take down the champagne with just a hint of orange juice.

“Do you think I was going to run this sober? You wore me out last night,” Matthew teases, and he could feel Brady’s gaze on him.

The wheels in Brady’s head were turning. He was suspicious, catching Matthew sneak back into the house early in the morning, and now watching the two of you - it was clear. It became even clearer when they started running, because Brady knew Matthew wasn’t that slow and he didn’t wasn’t going to let Brady beat him. He was though, jogging behind Brady with you and laughing at whatever you said. There was one thing that was clear, Matthew got over his dumb fear of talking to you and finally did. His brother was happy, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was going to watch this explode in your faces in a few days. Matthew would go back to Calgary and just the first time you broke, it was going to be ugly.

***

The winter in St. Louis was brisk, but Matthew’s warm body next to you was enough to fight it. Your head was on his chest, and you were snoring softly. Matthew picked you up a few hours after you got home, driving up to the same lake you snuck off to in high school. He stole Brady’s truck, driving off with a bunch of blankets without giving Brady an answer as to where he was going. It was supposed to be romantic, but you’d always been prone to falling asleep when you were with him.

Matthew didn’t have a complaint in the world, you slept the same way you used to. Your head on his chest, a leg tangled with his and your hands clutched to his shirt so he couldn’t move. He wasn’t going anywhere. Matthew would let you sleep the entire day away if he could have. He carded his hands through your hair, a content sigh leaving his lips.

Matthew often wondered what would have happened if you never broke up. If you’d followed him to Calgary and what that would have been like. Maybe you’d still be together, and after all these years he’d start looking for a ring. If you’d buy a house together, maybe even be that family that houses wayward hockey players just like his parents did. You’d be the person he got to share looks with across the room when he was forced to have conversations he didn’t want to have. He’d get to take you family skates and you’d get to see him play and you’d live happily ever after.

Reality was always much more cruel, and it wasn't pretty. You had a life in St. Louis, one that didn’t include him. You were moving along in your life just fine without him. You didn’t need Matthew and it was dumb of him to think you’d drop it all for him. You never asked him to stay, and it would be unfair to ask you to wait around.

“I can hear you thinking, you might start to malfunction soon bubs,” You whisper, your voice still laced with sleep. You meant to run a hand through his hair, but the palm of your hand just hit his forehead while you moved it back down slowly. Matthew chuckles, the silly nicknames you gave him seemed to come out without a second thought, and it felt good to be called any of them by you.

“Just thinking about you,” Matthew breathes, and you pick up your head. Matthew shoots you a smile, but you knew he was faking it.

“Matty-” You take one deep breath, “Don’t ask me to come with you, you know it’s not fair to me.”

Your voice was cracking, pleading Matthew to just not have this conversation. You weren’t ready for it, because it meant accepting defeat. The universe wasn’t going to allow you to be together, and that’s just how it was going to be.

“I don’t want to go back to Calgary,” Matthew whispers, more to himself than you. He did want to go back, but he wanted to go back with you.

“You have to,” You sit up, a chill running through your body from the loss of Matthew’s body next to yours. You rub your arms to warm up, “You have to because we’re just not going to make it work Matty.”

Matthew nods solemnly, like his heart just broke all over again. You were right, you always were, it just seemed naïve to think you’d both be any different now than you were the first time, “Let me take you home.”

The car ride was awkward. The only thing cutting through the silence was the Christmas music playing on the radio. You sat with your head pressed against the window, counting down the streets until you finally hit yours. Matthew halted the car, and you gave him one more look before you stepped out of the car, “Tell your parents I said Merry Christmas.”

“I will,” Matthew nods, and those were the last words you heard him say before you walked up your stairs. Matthew waited for you to be inside before he drove off, a small part of him hoping you’d run back to the car and tell him you wanted him too. You didn’t, and that was just how it was going to be.

***

Christmas was awful, the past two days seemed to pass were pure agony. You were sad, and knowing Matthew was about three blocks and four houses away wasn’t helping. You were counting down the hours until he was back in Calgary, away from you and you could finally grieve him for the final time. The last nail in the coffin of what was once your first love had yet to be hammered in but once he was gone that would settle it.

You had two more hours until you knew his flight would leave, and you were so close to the finish line you could taste it. You were home alone, your parents still making their way to a few neighbors' houses to spend the last few moments of the holiday with their friends. You were sulking, a wine bottle stolen from your mother’s collection and the Grinch on your TV.

A doorbell was the only thing to interrupt you, and you could see a tuft of curly hair through the window. Matthew was standing outside your door, pacing back and forth while he waited for you to open it. You thought about acting like you weren’t home, maybe he’d leave and never come back. You opened it, not even having a chance to open your mouth before he spoke.

“Come with me,” Matthew pleads, “I love you, I still do and I always have and we’re meant to be together. There isn’t anyone I want more by my side than you, and I know it’ll be hard but I’m not ready to let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Matthew-” You interrupt grabbing his arm to stop his pacing, “Listen to yourself.”

“I am, and I want this, I never wanted to give up you and I just can’t fly back there with people who don’t know when I’m faking a smile or when I don’t want to be somewhere,” Matthew explains, running a hand over his face, “You’re the best I’ll ever have and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

“I’ll come until New Year’s,” You agree, Matthew’s face breaking out into a very real smile, “We need to talk about this Matthew.”

“You talk, I’ll listen, you can have whatever you want,” Matthew agrees, because he’d move the sun if he could for you. His lips pressed against yours, pushing you against the same front door he kissed you in front of on your first date. The porch light still flickers the way it used to while Matthew’s hands gripped your face because he was afraid to let you go. You both finally pulled, Matthew mumbling his next words against your lips.

Tis the damn season huh?

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #My writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

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ackerlert · 3 years

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The Restaurant

Jean x Reader (3 year time skip since end of Season 3, pretend Annie is not in a crystal LMAO)

NSFW WARNINGS: female pronouns reader, oral sex (m & f receiving), sex with jean’s horse cock, reader aroused by his blush LMFAO, slow build up

“Oi. Get back here brats,” Levi grunts, gesturing toward a door. “Time for dinner. I know the restaurant’s all you brats have been thinking of. Especially you, Sasha.”

“Yahoo!” Sasha squealed. “I wonder what Niccolo will make today…maybe even that pizza he was telling me about…” she mutters, smiling to herself and probably daydreaming about stretchy cheese and marinara sauce.

Connie grinned, sharing a look with the other smirking cadets--no. Soldiers. All of the cadets had grown into soldiers now, ranging from 17 to early 20s, plus some new recruits who had joined, including you.

Everyone knew Sasha had a thing for Niccolo-- it was something you and all the other cadets teased her about almost every day. The atmosphere buzzed with a lighthearted feel as the group joked around. You had all just recently completed a successful mission clearing Ragako of some straggler titans left from 3 years ago, and it had gone extremely well: so well that the Corps were getting rewarded with a trip to Niccolo’s restaurant.

The Corps made their way to their destination, the train: a new machine designed by Hange and other engineers she had recruited, it would be their way to the restaurant. Everyone stared at it with slack jaws and wonder-filled eyes. It would be your first time on the locomotive.

The Corps rushed forward, all clambering to get on first and sit with their friends and significant others.

You, along with your group of Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Annie, Connie, Sasha, and Jean were the last to file into the last cart.

Pair by pair, your group began filing in.

You and Jean Kirschtein were last in line to get on the train, and the uncomfortableness you felt surely was justified. After all, the others basically all knew who they would sit near and talk to--Sasha/Connie, Mikasa/Eren, Armin/Annie-- except you two. You couldn’t help but sneak a look at Jean, standing next to you in the line, tallest in your group. His dark eyes looked a bit tired but still had a hard glint of intensity -- probably just excitement to visit the restaurant. You also noted his broad shoulders and a bit of a scruff on his sharp jawline -- characteristics that had not been there before a few years ago, when you had first caught a glimpse when you joined the Corps.

He’d always been attractive. Whenever he smiled at you when you said something to your friend group, whenever he would grasp his hair when he seemed frustrated. And you couldn’t forget his blush and the way his dark eyes glanced away in embarrassment that day you complimented his hair. Although he had seemed intimidating, you had felt a spark of arousal at his blush.

“Y/n. Y/N.” Mikasa frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. C’mon, get on the train!” Connie pouted.

Your eyes snapped up in surprisement. You hadn’t noticed how your mind had drifted into that memory of Jean’s blush, and how everyone, including Jean, was already in the train cart.

“Sorry! I’m coming!” You blushed and clambered on the train.

There was a stretch of awkward silence for a few seconds as you realized the problem.

“Er...why isn’t there room for me?” You asked, frowning a bit.

“The only place you could sit is one of our laps, you could sit on my lap!” Sasha offered, smiling at you, a crumb on her lip.

“Sasha, don’t forget you have all that food stuffed in your pockets. Y/n might smush it and you would cry later,” Connie said, rolling his eyes before looking up at you apologetically. “Sorry Y/n, but I honestly don’t know where you could sit.”

Silence filled the train car for another second, before you heard Jean’s husky voice. “There’s a small bit of room next to me.”

You gratefully accepted that as your best seat, and tried to squeeze in. One of your legs was against Jean’s and the other one was almost hanging out, but you tried to brush it aside.

As the train lurched forward, you heard Jean’s voice again, this time closer to your ear and a bit softer. “You can move in closer, you might fall off like that.”

“Thanks, Jean.” you reply, inching closer. You became aware of his leg’s warmth against yours.

“Damn those thighs are strong...“ you thought to yourself.

You sat like this for a while, in discomfort, listening vaguely to Armin tell Annie about a book he had read.

All of a sudden, your shoulder was jerked to the side and your legs were thrown to the side.

The train had just bumped over a bridge, and you sighed in annoyance until you realized the position you were in: Jean’s steely thighs under your own, his warm chest on your back, and the tickle of his hair on the top of your left ear.

You immediately flushed red, and were about to scramble off his lap until his right hand gently patted your shoulder. You froze.

“Wait, uh. Y/n, I-I think you should wait a while. The road above is a bit bumpy, and the train might throw you off,” he muttered, his face turning that beautiful pink color again as he retracted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Okay. Thank you so much, Jean,” you said quietly, still aware that you were on his lap. You wondered if he could feel your legs tense up, or smell your hair that you had just washed this morning.

You could feel every breath he took against your back, and every breath you took in smelled like him.

And sure enough, the road ahead was bumpy.

You felt your arousal every time the cart hit a road bump and your sensitive parts rubbed against Jean’s. You hoped he wouldn’t notice, but he appeared to be even more awkwardly tensed up than you about it. His breathing had become a bit erratic in your ear and something under your ass was hardening.

When the train ran over a giant rock, you basically bounced up and back down on Jean’s lap.

When this happened, you couldn’t help but let out a small moan before horror filling your face.

Oh fuck.

Jean stiffened behind you, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Neither of you said anything else until you got to the restaurant.

You slowly left his lap, not daring to look back behind you, and entered the restaurant to sit with Sasha and try to erase the sensations of sitting on Jean’s lap.

---

“I’ll have the steak, medium-rare, please,” you heard Jean’s smooth voice say to Niccolo taking the orders.

He was sitting across from you, and neither of you had mentioned what happened on the train, but it was still fresh on your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder if the slight blush that had been present on his face all meal was from that incident.

As the food came, and you dug in, you couldn’t help but sneak another glance at Jean.

But he was already looking at you with an unfathomable look in his eyes as he took a bite out of his steak.

You quickly looked away.

---

After the dinner, the Corps were getting lodging in the town of the restaurant.

You had always roomed with Hitch, but today she seemed to have other plans in mind.

“Y/nnnnnn, I am so sorry.. But could we perhaps do a switch?” she asked, lips breaking into a devious smile.

You frowned at the short-haired girl suspiciously.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well...I really want to spend the night with Annie and Armin after that dinner, I want to see something. So maybe Armin’s roommate could stay here for the night instead?” she begged.

You frowned. You really didn’t want this, but you knew that Hitch would be really sad if she couldn’t see her friends, so you gave in.

“Fine. But PLEASE make sure his roommate doesn’t stink,” you joked.

“Thank you sooo much!” Hitch grinned, squealing.

---

The door lock clicked open as whoever outside twisted the key Hitch had given him, and stepped inside.

“Jean?!”

You heard the click of his shoes as the man stepped in, eyes falling on you. The room seemed a lot smaller all of a sudden. Although you normally felt pretty tall, you felt small next to Jean.

“Hey, Y/n..” he started. “Looks like i’ll be staying here tonight. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Your bed is the one on the left ” You forced a sweet smile on your face. In your mind, however, you were shocked that Jean was the one staying with you. Memories of his strong, warm chest against your back on the train, his dark eyes on you in the restaurant, and his hard bulge ran throughout your mind again, the way they had plagued your thoughts ever since you had left the restaurant.

You heard a warm and slightly tired-sounding chuckle from Jean, and you snapped your head to his direction, eyes narrowing at him.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he smirked as he glanced up from unpacking his clothes in your direction. ”It was just kinda... cute how you were just staring into space just now, I guess. Wonder what you were thinking about”

You rolled your eyes, a blush spreading across your face. I wonder what he’d think if he knew I was thinking of him, you thought to yourself. Hell, he probably knows.

Another thought passed your mind as you watched him unpacking, the muscles around his neck and arms moving through his thin collared shirt: With the way he was looking at me earlier at that restaurant... I bet I’m not the only one with thoughts of continuing what happened on that damned train...

You smirked and walked up to him casually as a plan moved in your head. He moved his head and looked at you in confusion.

He then ducked his head down again, focusing back on unpacking his clothes. You could’ve sworn there was a hint of that blush you love on his cheeks again.

“So...say, Jean. You look awfully tired today,” you murmured as you went on your tiptoes and flicked some of his soft hair.

He turned back to you. It was clear now that he was blushing and glancing down at your chest, nipples visible through your thin training shirt.

You thought of how his complexion looked so nice in the small bits of red sunlight filtering through the window and the glow of the lamp on the small bedside table in the room. It was a shame that his shirt covered up the rest of him right now.

“Yeah...it’s been busy recently I guess.” he muttered a bit tightly, his blush growing deeper as he rubbed the stubble on his chin.

“We should get more time to relax,” you sighed and flopped down on the bed right next to the pile of clothes he was unpacking.

Jean looked at you sprawled on the blankets. You gave him another smile and patted the area beside yourself on the bed. He rolled his eyes at you but gave you a small smile back as he sat down beside you a bit stiffly.

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes as you pulled him to lay down properly beside you, your thighs touching.

“I-uh-” he stammered, clearly not sure what to say now that you two were in such close proximity, and he could feel your warmth next to him.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything,” you explained to him. “I’ve just been so tired and stressed as well, I just wanted to relax tonight.”

You shifted a bit closer to him on the bed. He didn’t say anything or move in the next couple of seconds, the two of you just enjoying the moment in the bed before the stress of the next day’s training and planning would hit.

You sighed softly. How long had it been since you had felt this tired? Sure, the titans on Paradise were basically eliminated--but you were not naive enough to think that this would be the end of your journey as a soldier. Just the thought of encountering more titans across the sea that would threaten your friends and family made you almost sick.

Your pretty face crumpled into a bitter frown.

“Y/n…” he said slowly.

“What?” you replied, looking up at him through your eyelashes, eyes tired.

“I...I want you to be happier.” he muttered, turning to you and fixing his dark eyes on your face. “I know you’ve been stressed recently, pushing yourself during training and so have I, but...stay safe, okay? I’m worried about you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. Yeah, Hitch and Sasha and Mikasa teased you about training too hard a lot and always checked up on you, but this was the first time someone had noticed you weren’t happy doing this much training, and how you sometimes pushed yourself to limits that you knew you couldn’t keep up.

Overwhelmed with surprise and emotion, you threw your arms around Jean and put your chin on his shoulder. His muscles immediately tensed around you, and his warm hands wrapped around your waist, fitting perfectly in its dips.

You buried your face in his neck, breathing in his delicious smell of wood and wine.

Your thoughts were running at a million miles per hour, and you figured you could be more vulnerable with him now.

“Jean, I...I really liked sitting on you on the train today.” you blurted out, still hugging him.

He went stiff for a moment, and you feared you had ruined the moment between you two until he chuckled, the vibrations from his chest spreading to you.

“Yeah...I liked it too.”

You broke off the hug to look at him, only to find him already looking at you and smirking.

Before you know it, his lips were connecting to yours, and your hands were running through his soft hair and tugging the ends to get him closer to you somehow. He broke off the kiss, and you furrowed your brows, but then felt his lips on your neck, sucking it and definitely leaving marks that would last for the next couple of days.

You let out a soft moan that he responded with by marking your neck even harder. You felt his lips curl into a smirk on your neck.

“Jean...have you done this before?” you murmured.

“Uh…” he said.

Before he could finish his response, you pulled his hair and pulled him off of your neck.

“Relax…” you said, tilting your head to give him your own smirk as you trailed your hand down his chest, rapidly unbuttoning the buttons of his thin shirt and feeling the hard planes of his chest stiffen under your hand. “I want to make you feel less stressed too.”

He groaned. “Y/n...you really don’t have to do this,” he muttered, looking away from you as if embarrassed.

You smiled up at him from your position in between his thighs, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants off before running your hand over his muscular thighs.

“I want to, though. I want to taste you,” you said, keeping eye contact with him.

His dick was longer than you expected, flushed a warm color and with a slight curve at the tip that you knew would hit that spot in you later that brought you the most pleasure.

He let out a choked whimper at the first time your warm tongue touched his throbbing member, his thighs tensing and veined hands clenching the bedsheets.

You continued to pepper small licks around his dick, giving him comments that made him even harder, if that were even possible, like “You look so nice like this.” and “Stay still for me, okay?”

The way the 6”3 man was now completely at your mercy, his head tilted back and muscles tensed, made you get slicker down there.

“F-fuck, Y/n....” he groaned, peering down at you and your flushed face through the messed up strands of hair that your hands had been running through earlier.

You smirked as he continued to groan.

“But I’ve only been licking your tip? Why are you so sensitive?” you teased him, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and his tip. He only let out another moan in response, his tip twitching again.

You relaxed your throat and began to take him down completely, although his length barely fit in your mouth.

Jean let out even more moans, moaning your name and “fuck” repeatedly. A sheen of sweat covered his chest, glistening in the moonlight and lamp light, and you marveled at the sight.

After a few more times of deep-throating him, he suddenly reached his hands down and yanked your head roughly off of his dick. You looked at him, confused at the sudden demeanor change, still wanting to feel him pulse beneath your tongue and see him lose all his control.

“I was about to cum, but I want to wait until I’m inside of you”, he explained. “Now, it’s my turn to taste you.”

He pulled you up from your position between his legs, and roughly pulled off your shirt so that your breasts were out, and you pulled off your shorts and underwear yourself. The cold air hit your sensitive parts, making them even more sensitive.

When you were on his bed, exposed to his dark eyes trailing over your body that you were proud of from all your days of training, you felt heat rush between your legs.

You pushed your legs together, embarrassed all of a sudden, but Jean lowered his body and bent his head down so that he was hovering above your thighs, and spread your legs for you, his grip as tight as steel.

“Don’t hide from me,” he commanded.

You let out a moan in response, loving the feel of his hands pressing into your soft thighs. You knew where this was heading, and the anticipation made your head dizzy.

Jean lowered his face so that you could feel his breath on you, and you whimpered in anticipation. At the first contact of his tongue on you, you moaned, because no other guy had done this with you. You vaguely thought of how after tonight, no other guy would ever compare to how you felt with Jean.

“Jean…” you moaned.

“Fuck, you taste even better than I thought you would,” he responded, as he sucked your clit and ran his tongue through your folds.

As he continued eating you out, his grip still preventing your thighs from closing, he let out some of his own groans that made you even wetter, and combined with your moans to make the best sounds you had heard in your life.

“Jean…” you repeated, gripping his granite-colored hair in your hands. “I want you in me now.”

Jean gave your clit one last kiss before he got up, licking his lips.

He smiled at you, loving the sight of you as a panting mess on his sheets. His dick was rock hard already, wanting to be inside of you.

You blushed when you saw the wetness on his stubble, but he seemed to not mind at all. Jean began rubbing his tip on you, and thrust his hips forward all of a sudden, even though you were still recovering from your previous orgasms.

When he slid in easily, due to how wet you were, both of you moaned at the sensation.

“Oh fuck...you fit me perfectly.”

The sight of Jean, strands from his side parted hair falling into his forehead, darkened with sweat, made you moan even more. His eyes were fixated on you, begging for more of his dick and for him to go faster.

The intensity of his stare made you look away, blushing and moaning, but his large fingers grabbed your chin and made you look back at him.

“Don’t look away.” he scolded.

“A-alright.” you moaned, looking back into his eyes.

He began to pound into your faster, eyes never leaving yours, his hand making his way to grope your breasts before settling around your throat, not pushing very hard but probably leaving marks there.

You seemed to be sucking him into you every time he pulled out again, which made his rough thrusting irresistible and his moans louder.

The intensity of the pleasure you felt every time he fucked you this good made your eyes roll back and sweat to cover both you and Jean’s bodies.

“Jean...I’m coming soon…” you moaned.

“Me too.” he gritted his teeth and slowing his thrusts so that they were precise and deep.

“Please…” you moaned, not sure what you were begging for: some sort of release, anything, as you clawed his back.

“Please what?” he groaned.

“Please...let me cum…” you whimpered.

Jean groaned at your pretty sounds, so desperate for release, and began thrusting harder.

It was as if he couldn’t control his deep thrusts. You had known that curve in his dick would hit you at the right spots, but now that you were actually experiencing it, you were sure you were in heaven.

With a cry, both of you came, Jean cumming into the condom. He gave you a few more lazy thrusts to milk out your broken cries before he pulled out and leaned down over your naked body to kiss you.

“Y/n… That was amazing.” he blushed again, seemingly shy all of a sudden after he had just fucked you into almost-a-coma.

“I could say the same to you, Jean…” you smiled.

He went into the bathroom and got something to clean you up with.

“We made a mess on the sheets,” you groaned into the pillow. “Hitch is gonna tease me so bad about this tomorrow.”

Jean laughed, his eyes crinkling at you.

“Whatever. But you look so pretty right now Y/n. How could she tease you when you look so pretty?” he joked.

“You’re too sweet, Jean…” you smiled back at him as he clambered slightly awkwardly back into the small bed with you.

Damn, I am so lucky, you marveled to yourself as he put his arm around you and pulled you closer to his chest. You buried your face into his chest, breathing in his scent. His usually meticulous hair was now messy and tickling your ear again.

“You know … Ymir was right about you having a horse cock…” you giggled.

Jean frowned, pulling you off his chest to look you in the eyes. “What the fuck?!” he snorted, but his lips were pulling up into a smile.

The rest of the night was filled with you two laughing and joking about trivial matters, distracting you from the pain and loss that would happen the next year. But that night was one out of many special nights between you and Jean only.

Hitch took one glance at your messy hair, eye bags, and goofy smile the next morning and instantly began squealing.

“I TOLD YOU SO, SASHA!” she screamed.

Connie and Sasha smirked at you, whispering something about how they had known it since they had caught Jean staring at you during training when you first joined the Corps.

“Hitch...shut up please…” you groaned, exchanging a look with Jean, who was blushing again.

#jean kirschtein #jean #jean aot #jean snk #jean x reader #jean kirschtein smut #jean smut #snk #aot #jean season 4 #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x y/n #jean kirschtein x r/n #jean kirstein #jean kirstein x reader

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Jealousy Has Its Perks

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 10.4K holy shit im tired

[ ✘ (nsfw!), ☀︎ ] sin with a cute ending

themes : jealous,dom!shouto, brat,sub!reader, friends with benefits, degradation, quirk use, edging, overstimulation, general bdsm things, & a sweet lil confession

bio : Even though you’re not his, Shouto can’t help but turn green with envy when he sees you dancing on another man at the club.

author’s note : uhhhh can i get a hell yeahhHHH for jealous fwb trope? lmao my basic ass loves these. hope y’all do too <3

also available on AO3 here

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂hinsou’s hands land on your waist, cold fingertips pressing into your exposed midriff and guiding your hips along with his. The circular motion has your head spinning, and you let your skull fall back onto his sturdy chest at the feeling of his semi brushing against your ass. Shinsou’s purple locks tickle your neck as he bends and presses his lips to your skin, sucking on the skin just hard enough to leave a ghost of a bruise. His hands cup your hips, squeezing the flesh there softly while his thumbs trace the crest of the bones.

The song blasting through the club changes, a novel and heavy bass causing your throat to vibrate. The sudden need to quench your thirst emerges, and you pull away from the handsome man regretfully. His lavender irises regard you with understanding as you point to the bar, holding up a finger to signal you won’t be long.

Your heels stick to the dancefloor slightly as you cut through the throngs of club-goers, and unsurprisingly a handful of guys attempt to stop you on your travels. Finding a familiar pink head of hair, you slip into the empty spot next to Ashido and let out a sigh of relief as your elbows land on the wooden counter. Perspiration makes the hairs at the back of your neck stick to your skin, and you fan yourself with a cocktail napkin as you attempt to catch the bartender’s attention.

“Not doing so bad for yourself, Y/N,” Ashido grins at you coyly, her words a tad slurred as her black eyes give you a once-over.

You let out a chuckle, painted lips curving knowingly. “Yeah, well… he used to have a crush on me back in the day,” you explain with a nonchalant shrug, finally giving your order to the woman behind the bar. You look at Shinsou over your shoulder, who has returned to his table of friends and is currently being shoved, high-fived, and noogied animatedly.

Ashido gasps exaggeratedly, her mouth turning from an ‘o’ of shock to a grin of delight. “Two heroes wrapped around your finger at once? I can’t believe you,” she laughs, perhaps too hard, because you have to hold her arm tightly to keep her from falling off her stool.

“Hey now, I’m a free woman!” You reason, thanking the bartender as they hand you an icy glass. “I can fool around with whoever I want, thank you very much.”

“Can’t argue with sound logic,” Ashido taps your glass with hers, throwing back the remaining contents of her drink. “You know, you should tap Bakugou, too. Last night, he Lord-Explosion-Murdered this pussy.”

You snort, the alcohol burning your nostrils as it leaks into your nose from the abrupt reaction to Mina’s words. All the pink-haired woman does is laugh with you, the both of you maybe a step past tipsy but not nearly blackout drunk. Not yet, anyway.

“Shinsou though, really? I’m surprised… I thought you were too in love with IcyHot’s dick to tap anybody else,” Ashido teases, poking your shoulder as a frown forms on your face. Her words are playful, but they send irritation surging through your veins. That asshole had cancelled your weekly appointment tonight, which is why you’re here at the club, prowling for a suitable replacement.

You shrug again, allowing the bitter liquid to drift past your lips before you speak again. “What can I say? He knows how to get the job done, and he’s sexy as hell.”

“You sound a little smitten. He must be pretty damn good,” Ashido wiggles her brows at you, a devious smile making its way to her face.

You disregard her comment, looking away from your friend with an eye roll. Smitten? Your relationship with Shouto is strictly physical. But maybe you had been a bit too disappointed when he’d sent you that text earlier. Shaking your head, you take a gulp of your drink, willing the intrusive thought to disappear.

Ashido’s phone vibrates and you watch her face light up at the message. After a brief moment, she stands, collecting her jacket and purse. “Hmm, seems like Bakugou is calling for an emergency meeting,” she winks at you, flashing you a rather lewd photo of the blonde that was clearly not meant for you to see as she walks away. “Give my regards to Shinsou! I wanna hear about all the nasty stuff he does to you with that mind control quirk of his.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that, sighing as you cross your arms. Would Shinsou really be enough to satisfy your cravings? His quirk does interest you sexually, but it’s unclear if he’d be willing to dominate you like that. He always seemed like the type to go with the flow… and tonight, you really need someone to force you to swim against the current, so to speak.

“Shinsou, huh?”

Speak of the icy devil. The voice behind you makes your body still, your eyes widening at his deep tone. The scent of his encaptivating cologne infiltrates the air around you, and a hand slides around your waist, pushing you backwards against his firm chest. You swallow, your tongue poking out to wet your lips in anticipation. What’s he doing here?

“Already forgetting about me, angel?” Lips ghost over the shell of your ear, his hand gliding across your torso until it reaches the other side of your waist, grabbing there and spinning you around. He catches you as you turn, snatching your wrist with his other hand to steady your half-finished drink.

You look up into his heterochromatic eyes, noticing a new emotion simmering there. Is that… jealousy? His cold breath fans over your flushed face, and you bask in the cool relief it provides in contrast to the stuffy club air. “It was you who cancelled our appointment,” you murmur, feigning innocence as you look to the side in a faux-bashful manner, “I needed to find a substitute. A girl has needs, you know.”

Shouto grins down at you, but it seems like more of a snarl as his eyes glare down at you with hostility. One eyebrow raised in mockery, he chuckles lowly. “And Shinsou Hitoshi is gonna do that for you? Are you sure he’s big enough to fill my shoes, angel?”

Your eyes wander back to the intimidating man before you, lingering on the ridges of his muscular form hidden underneath his button-up and slacks. Feeling brave, you down the rest of your drink, tongue rolling out and over the lip of the emptied glass. Shouto’s eyes burn as they follow the movement, his lips parting slightly while his grip tightens on your waist. Shooting him a playful smile, you tug your wrist free, placing the vacant glass on the bar. “What are you even doing here, Shouto?” You change the subject, hand reaching up to tug on his slim tie as a cheeky grin splits your lips. “You don’t like to have fun.”

The action causes him to lean closer to you, his face next to yours. “I was dragged here against my own will, of course— boy’s night. But would you believe my surprise when I saw my little minx walk in, all eyes on her in her skimpiest dress?” His baritone voice loud and clear despite the blaring music, his lips hover dangerously close. The hand you’d freed strikes your ass abruptly, causing you to jump closer to him in shock. His fingers hold the reddened cheek through the thin material of your dress, gathering you into his chest. No one seems bothered by the blatantly sexual action in the club, everyone distracted with their drinks and their own sensual pursuits. “And then, can you imagine how I felt watching her grind up against mind-control, watching him put his filthy fucking hands on what’s mine?”

You let out a heavy breath, delighted at how responsive he is. How possessive he is. “What’s yours?” You challenge, hands landing on his broad chest. His expression makes you press your legs together eagerly, your body starting to bend to his will.

Shouto’s hand leaves your waist to cradle the back of your neck, forcing you to bend your gaze to meet his. “Mine,” he whispers, his lips inching closer to yours by the second. Your pulse pounding, your fingers curling into the cotton of his shirt, your eyes flutter closed. His lips brush over yours, and then he pulls away.

A whine of protest escapes you, and you shove your palms against his chest in annoyance. But he doesn’t even budge, his fingers slipping into your hair and pulling your defiant face to look at him.

“Let’s get outta here, angel,” he nods toward the exit, releasing you and lightly smacking your ass again before his fingers settle at the small of your back, “I think I need to remind you who you belong to.” Shivers shoot down your spine at his choice of words, effectively drowning the bratty response you were so ready to quip at him. Without even a glance at Shinsou, you allow Shouto to guide you out of the establishment and into the crisp night air.

The brisk walk to his luxurious apartment is silent, but laden with anticipation. Your brain begins to ponder if his words had a deeper meaning. The two of you had been engaging in this affair for months now— you aren’t quite sure how it came to be. Your relationship had remained stringently physical, but you couldn’t help the butterflies that filled your stomach when he held you through the night, when his hands would rub your exhausted body tenderly, and when he would kiss you for hours before you’d slip into a satiated, peaceful slumber. And you did not dare to acknowledge the warmth that would blossom in your chest when you’d drowsily awake, still swaddled against his muscular chest with his arms around you as sunlight peeked through the blinds. Physical, yes— your relationship is only physical… regardless of the fuzzy feelings that ebb through you when you’re next to him.

And when he had proposed to have you come over twice in one weekend, you’d nearly panicked at the raw excitement that coursed through you at the premise. After much consideration you had denied his request, fearful that if you allowed yourself even a shred of further indulgence you’d be entirely consumed by the captivating man. He hadn’t overstepped that boundary since, and you weren’t sure if you felt appreciative or disappointed.

Your train of thought is interrupted as you reach the tall doors of his apartment building. The complex is perhaps one of the most expensive in the city— the lobby boasts flat leather sofas and sleek wooden tables. Lush tropical plants with leaves as wide as tennis rackets break up the space, magnificent orchids dotting the area just sparingly enough, and to top it off, an entire wall with running water rushing over the flat surface, creating a sheet of liquid that trickles quietly as you wait for the elevator.

Next to you, Shouto has his hands in his pockets, a blank expression on his face as usual. But after months of getting to know him, you can easily recognize the irritation lingering on his handsome mug. You are not able to think of any words that could possibly calm Shouto’s crackling, brooding intensity, but honestly, a large part of you desperately wants to find out what exactly he has in store for you. It’s clear that he has no intention of forgetting you were about to leave with another man, and his blatant acrimony brings a sliver of joy to you while jealousy oozes out of his every pore— you know you’re in for a wild night.

When the door closes with a deafening click behind you, your body freezes as you wait with bated breath. Sure enough, two large hands curl around your stomach, coasting down your pelvis in a V shape. His long fingers nearly graze your clothed slit, but he changes direction at the last moment, instead securing his palms on your inner upper thighs. He rubs the flesh there roughly, making your head fall back against his shoulder as you gaze up at him. His smoky eyes are already on you, a smirk decorating his pretty lips as his fingers work on your sensitive muscles. Thumbs brushing against the sides of your panties, his movements push the hem of your short dress up along your hips.

“You need to be fucked pretty bad, huh, angel?” He taunts, analyzing how your ass rubs zealously against his crotch. His smirk only grows as you nod, your hand flying up to grapple onto his bicep. “Bad enough to drop your standards so embarrassingly low?”

You snort at his words, turning your head so your eyes catch his. This asshole has some nerve getting jealous after he was the one who cancelled on you. “Shinsou is just as hot as you, Shouto,” you reply boldly, wondering what exactly the price of your words will be. How far can you push this envious beast? Will you be able to take his punishment?

Shouto’s expression darkens, allowing his hair to fall over his eyes as his stare falls to the floorboards. His hands leave your skin, and you whirl around ready to dish out another line, but he’s already a step ahead of you. He lashes out, yanking your body against his by swooping his hand underneath your thigh and cupping your bare ass. He lifts your body so your heels leave the floor, rushing to press your back flat against the drywall. He’s hoisted you up high enough to set your ass against the thin, tall table next to the door which usually holds his keys.

Your legs parted with him standing between them, he places his hands on the tops of your thighs. A low chuckle rumbles out of him, his tidy fingernails trailing up your flesh. “Just as hot as me, hmm? Is he really, Y/N?” His left hand jumps from your thigh to your cunt, the only barrier between you two your skimpy panties. The heat emanating off his palm catches you off guard, a moan tearing out of you as he easily cups your covered sex, sending a searing fever through your body.

“Fuck,” you whimper, hips bucking instinctively against his palm, your body hoping for some kind of friction. The heat makes your pussy twitch, stirring as a cat slowly pulled from a deep slumber.

He tilts his head, as if he doesn’t understand why you’re breathless. “Huh? What was that?” He wiggles his fingertips a bit, enjoying how you whine as the ends of his blistering fingers dig into your core through the material of your panties. Your wetness drips through the thin cloth to coat his hot digits, making it easier to glide them against you.

“More, Shouto,” you squeak, panting heavily as his fingers rub along your slit at an infuriatingly slow pace.

Shouto lets out a low purr of satisfaction at your plea, savoring how your smooth leg tenses up underneath his other palm. Your sweet whimpers are music to his ears, his right hand moving around your thigh to meander toward your ass. “No, baby. Not until my angel answers me,” he murmurs, ducking his head down and placing his lips against the delicate skin on your neck.

A wayward moan evades your gasping lungs as his tongue ravishes your flesh, his teeth scraping over the wet skin. Your legs wrap around his waist, wiggling your body forward so your soft breasts press up against his hard chest, your cunt inching closer to his crotch. “Ugh— nooo,” you gasp as a fingertip presses harshly against your core, just barely pushing your panties into your pussy.

“No? No what?” He laughs darkly, his breath tickling your sensitive collarbone. He draws back from you, his intense gaze focusing on the other side of your neck before he looks directly at you, a sinister glint in his eyes.

Your lip trembling, the brat you’d been so ready to let free is for once taciturn at his dominance. Your submissive nature leaking out in desperation, you whine when his fingertip recedes slightly, leaving your panties barely inside of you without the pressure you really want. “No— Shinsou’s not nearly as hot as you, Shouto!” You rush out, heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall swiftly, restless for his touch to return to you.

But Shouto does not seem appeased by your admission. In fact, his gaze becomes a glare, his mouth curling into a snarl as he grabs your hips, crushing your body against his. “I hate hearing another man’s name come out of your pretty little mouth, Y/N,” he growls.

You’re shocked by his possessiveness, your eyes widening like saucers as his teeth skim your pouting lips. His proclamation makes a cocktail of doubt and lust unfurl in the corners of your body, but you’re torn as you wonder if he really thinks of you as his. Before you can ponder the meaning behind his statement, his eyelids shut and he smashes his lips onto yours.

Your arms are around his neck in less than a second, all thoughts vanishing as your nails scratch his scalp through the short, buzzed hair at the base of his undercut. He groans against your mouth, eliciting a moan from you in response. He takes the opportunity in stride, his hot tongue thrusting into your mouth as hot steam puffs out his nose, his calloused hands squeezing your body carnally. Your lips dance with his clumsily, your other hand cupping the corner of his sharp jawline and pulling his lips closer to yours.

He pulls away from you as your hips begin to grind against his, his eyes still closed with his lips pulling back into a snarky smile. Your needy mewl of disappointment makes his eyes slit open, regarding you with a predatory gaze. He takes in your desirous expression, his stare cold yet sizzling with passion. “You let him defile your perfect skin, angel?”

The hickey Shinsou had left is barely even that— nearly indistinguishable from your skin tone— yet Shouto’s eyes make the flesh on your neck blister with his scalding intensity. Your cheeks flush red, his words fanning the fire inside of you as you bite your lip. You had hoped he wouldn’t notice, but now you realize it was foolish of you to even allow yourself to think his perceptive gaze would skip over something so blatant.

“This heavenly body is mine to mark,” he hisses, a hand fisting your hair and pulling your neck back roughly to reveal the hidden skin from the shadows. The vaguely purple mark now on display in the dim mood lighting of his entryway, more steam billows from the man as he sneers in contempt. “And only mine. Got it, baby?” He does not allow you to answer— his mouth attacks the bruise, harshly sucking the skin while he washes away any recollection of the other man with ferocious swipes from his strong tongue.

Your back bows, your body wriggling in his grasp at the surge of devastating arousal that pulses through you. You shriek his name, hands clawing hysterically into his shoulder and the soft hair atop his head. Your pussy clenches around nothing, making you very aware of the aching need for him to claim you building in your core. Your legs snag his hips closer to yours, his body crashing into you as he grunts, lips finally releasing your battered skin. Without a doubt, the once indistinct mark is now more akin to the remnants of a punch to the throat, the colors already eclipsing into a deep shade of violet.

The lust crackles in the air between you two like thunder, your body a savannah ready to receive the generous relief of the first deluge in months. God, it’d only been a week since you last saw the man, but the unmitigated yearning for him to ravage you is the only emotion you can process.

“Please, Shouto, I need you to fuck me,” you beg, the words slipping out of you like a wet bar of soap from your desperate clutches. You’re mortified at your shamefully wanton admission, your cheeks still red and your body flushed, nearly shaking. You are not accustomed to this submissive side of yourself, but the brat inside of you only watches on in avid curiosity. If he doesn’t escalate this tryst fast enough, you’re afraid your body will fold like a limp noodle in his strong arms.

Shouto seems just as affected as you, his pupils dilated and his erection painfully straining against the confines of his slacks. His hands leave your frame, going to loosen the collar of his shirt by yanking his tie loose and then beginning to unbuckle his belt. You lean forward, your lips meeting his again as your fingers eagerly land on his cheeks, beckoning him closer to you. He moans into your mouth, fist nearly ripping the leather belt from the loops on his slacks, the metal of the snake-shaped buckle klinking loudly as he discards it carelessly onto the tabletop. Hands trailing up your spine, he tugs the zipper of your dress down your back, effortlessly lifting your hips in one hand to slip the garment under your ass and off your legs.

The inferno of jealousy ignites once again as he appraises your figure, clad in a matching set of white silky lace adorned with satin ribbons on each hip and one beneath the valley of your breasts. You’d worn this and Shinsou had almost seen such a marvel? Seen your delectable body in this gorgeous lingerie that he himself had never feasted his starved eyes upon?

Unaware of his change in mood, your lips move along his, begging for him to kiss you back as your tongue swipes his full bottom lip. His palms slide along your back, moving to cup your ass cheeks as he picks you up. You nibble on his earlobe as he swiftly carries you to his bedroom, his fingers jabbing into your behind in response. He kicks open the ajar door forcefully, unflinching as the doorknob nearly cracks the wall. Sliding onto the edge of the mattress, he sits with you on his lap, your legs still secure around his torso. His rough palms glide over your hips, rounding your waist and seizing your breasts, lifting the flesh to sit more perkily on your chest in perfectly round spheres.

“Why are you so fucking gorgeous, Y/N?” He groans, eyes closing in pleasure as you feel his cock twitch beneath you. He presses his mouth to the supple skin just above the cusp of the bra, slurping and nipping and leaving a trail of pretty pink marks. “You’re damn ethereal, angel.”

You’re gasping for air, hips unabashedly rolling against his, the feeling of his strained length making your desire for him to fuck you senseless multiply. Your hands latch onto his broad shoulders to steady yourself, your mind spinning dizzily with desire and the prolonged buzz from your earlier drinks.

“Take off my tie.”

The command rouses you from your far-away state, your fingers slightly trembling as you work on the silky material of the tie. After what seems like an eternity, the knot loosens and the tie slides off his neck into your hands. Shouto’s lips cover yours again, instantly enchanting you so that you don’t notice the sleek item slip through your fingers.

All of a sudden your front meets the cool sheets, your lips ripped away from his. Instead your face meets his pillow, engulfing your senses in the sexy, virile smell of him. You moan into the pillow, ass pushing into the air as your cunt throbs between your legs, ready to be taken in whatever manner he decides. His knees land on either side of your hips, his bulge rubbing into your ass teasingly as his hands close around your wrists. Tugging them behind your back carefully, he loops the tie around the both of them and fastens the knot with a firm pull, jerking once more for good measure.

You swallow into the pillow, teeth poking out to capture your bottom lip when he trails a sole finger along your spine. He’d never tied you up like this before, and the concept excites you to the point that your arousal visibly permeates your white panties.

“Do you feel that?” Shouto inquires, rutting his hips against your bottom so his clothed cock rubs between your ass cheeks. He’s panting lightly, his palms groping your ass and pinching the skin torturously. “Can you feel how much I want you, Y/N?”

“Fuck yes,” you answer, your head turning to lay against the pillow so he can see half your face and hear your voice. “I want you too, Shouto— I need you.”

He sighs at your saccharine words, almost swayed by your submissive antics. If he gives in now, his cock could be in your tight hole in just seconds… But then he wouldn’t get to have his way with you.

“Mmm, you’re cute when you’re desperate, baby,” he remarks, grasping your hips and pulling you down the sheets. He maneuvers you over his lap, and your eyes bug out of your skull as you assume position, knowing what comes next— he’d only done this once before but the memories of that night makes your pussy twinge excitedly. Your arms tied behind your back, your face dangles perilously beside his ankle, your forehead almost skimming the wooden floor. Your body is stiff, and Shouto hums as his hands drift along every inch of your back, ass, and the backs of your thighs.

“I wanna give you what you want, angel, but I promised I would remind you who you belong to, didn’t I?” His words are phrased like a question, but his tone implies them as a statement. Unsure what he wants, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue.

Apparently, that’s the wrong move, because his freezing hand slaps down hard onto your ass. A mix between a shout and a whine falls out of your lips, your fingers clutching onto themselves in apprehension. Your breathing picks up, ascending into a pant as his other hand caresses the reddened skin with a soothing heat exuding from his palm.

“Did you know I was going to be at the club tonight?”

His question catches you off guard, and you think for a moment before replying with a simple, honest “No.”

Shouto lets out a long sigh, his warm hand leaving your ass and making you tense in preparation.

“So you wore this little number thinking you would just show it to whomever you went home with?” Oh, that’s where he’s going with this.

Again, you’re not sure how to answer. Either way will be unsatisfactory— either you say yes and that would certainly result in a jealous smack, or you say no and he’d spank you for lying to him. You cannot come to a decision fast enough, and the next frigid slap across your other ass cheek steals your breath away as you whimper, your pussy clenching in sadistic delight.

“Answer me, angel. Or I’ll turn this flawless little ass of yours scarlet.”

“I bought it for you!” You blurt out meekly, your cheeks flushing with mortification. It’s not a direct answer to his question, but it’s more than enough to amuse him.

The warmth of his left hand feels hotter this time as it curves around your irritated skin. “Oh?” Shouto all but purrs, his brow raised in interest. “For me, angel?”

You nod, even though your head is below his eye level. “I was gonna wear it tonight, just for you,” you whisper sincerely, blush bright red as your thumbs rub over your knuckles in a self-soothing manner. Deciding you’re already deep enough into your embarrassing confession, you finish your thought with your eyes scrunched shut as you prepare yourself for what you know will come next. “But you rainchecked, so I… thought Shinsou might enjoy it instead.”

Shouto remains eerily quiet for a moment, your heartbeat accelerating wildly as he leaves you waiting, questioning just how he will react. Your body jumps as his left hand swirls around your hips, his arm resting on your back to gather your ass higher across his lap. The neat bows on your panties unravel at your hips, the cool air hitting your swollen cunt as the material is snatched away and discarded. He forces you to wait for another dizzying pause, the urge to squirm in his grasp tempting but you force yourself to stay motionless.

Tears spring into your eyes as his palm crashes against you, his arctic hand causing your body to thrash in recoil, and a strong gust of chilled wind slapping against your dripping folds. A shaky breath escapes you, morphing into a distraught cry when his hot thumb plunges into your aching core, rubbing and curling against your shuddering walls with spite.

“I thought I told you not to say his fucking name,” Shouto jeers, taking his thumb out of you to rub mercilessly betwen your petals, spreading your abundant slick with ease. Coasting down to your clit, he smirks as you sob, your legs quaking.

Your hips jut backwards on their own accord, forcing his thumb to penetrate your cunt again. You moan at the stimulation, squeezing the digit and grinding so it presses against your velvet walls.

He chuckles, pressing the finger as deep as he can and savoring the shameless wails the action induces. “How can you look so pure and act so naughty?” He wonders aloud, his frosty hand trailing along your thigh as he works his thumb inside of you. “You’re really just a little slut, aren’t you? Fucking yourself with my finger so brazenly.” He sighs as he feels your core clenching around his thumb, grinning as you whine at the loss of the digit.

“Please, just fuck me,” you exclaim, turning your face to look at his haughty gaze above you, “Make me forget about anyone else!”

Shouto pinches your inflamed ass cheek, forcing another whimper to croak out of your throat. “Aha, is that your game, angel? Want me to fuck you so hard I’m the only man you see? Fuck this little pussy so good no other cock can satisfy you, hmm?” He maneuvers your body effortlessly, positioning you to face him as you sit on his lap. The smooth material of his slacks irritates your sore ass slightly, but all you can bring yourself to do is nod, your arms shuffling behind you with the want to reach out and touch him.

His hands settle on the apex of your thighs, rugged fingertips soothing the skin there before he lifts your body, standing and placing you neatly on the floor before him. Casting an innocent look up at him, you shuffle to your knees, arching your back to your breasts and ass pop out for his aerial vantage point.

“You know what to do, don’t you baby?” Shouto snickers as he untucks his shirt and begins to snap open the buttons down the center of his chest, revealing his creamy skin to your lustful eyes. Leaving the shirt on with his abs on display, he undoes the clasp and zip at the front of his hips, slowly unveiling the delicious V tapering south below his slacks. You squirm in impatience, eyes glued to the trail of fine, bicolored hair he uncovers as his slacks sag tantalizingly slow. His thumbs slither underneath the elastic band across his pelvis, lowering the hem just enough to show you the base of his thick, hard cock. “Alright, angel,�� he rumbles, and you feel a stray bead of arousal drip down your thigh at his gruff tone, “Convince me you deserve to have this cock in you.”

As soon as he shoves his briefs low enough for his length to spring free, your lips drown his cockhead with haste, your tongue welcoming his hot, heavy tip with eager flicks. Shouto groans when you suck abruptly, your cheeks hollowing as you allow his member to drive deeper into your mouth. His hand landing on the back of your head, you take that as your cue to leap forward, slamming the entirety of his impressive cock into your open throat as your nose brushes into his abdomen.

“Fuck, Y/N!” Shouto gasps, his hips bucking into your face and shoving the tip of his dick into the depths of your throat.

Tears beading in your eyes, you refuse to let up, releasing a loud moan that makes his cock vibrate. Shouto throws his head back, his fingers curling in your hair as his hips recede, leaving only the tip inside your mouth and you gratefully take in a breath of air before he shoves back in.

“You take my cock so well, angel— fuuuuck, just like that,” he grumbles, pistoning into your face at a slow, deep tempo, the back of your throat caressing his tip delectably as a fat tear races down your cheek. Your cheeks flush pink and your chest tightens from the lack of air, but Shouto’s low grunts falling on your greedy ears has your cunt pulsing with need, your spit trickling down your chin. Shouto’s rabid gaze locks with yours, monitoring your wet eyes and your pleading pout as he speaks, “You look so beautiful slobbering on me like this, my little slut.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, humming on his length as you continue to bob back and forth. Your tongue lathering the veiny underside of his length, the promiscuous flavor of salty pre blooms on your tastebuds. Your head recedes back, keeping just the swollen head inside your mouth as you twirl your tongue in circles around him.

You pop his cock out of your mouth, and send him a closed-lip, coy smile as you smear the slick tip against your mouth. Shouto sighs when your half-lidded gaze meets his, your tongue poking out and curving to dawdle up and down his length.

“That’s enough, baby. Come here.” Shouto bends and picks you up from the floor, kneeling on the mattress and crawling toward the center with you in his arms. Your back collides with the silky sheets, your arms awkwardly stuck behind you with the tie rubbing your wrists. Shouto opens your legs, hovering over your body and making you suddenly feel small in comparison to him. Your cunt parts at the motion, exposing your twitching, saturated hole to him and sending a fresh blush to your cheeks. One hand propping himself up, the other stroking your cheek gingerly, he ushers you to look at him. He whispers to you, his voice calm yet enticing, “You want me to make you feel good, angel?”

“Please,” you implore, your voice hoarse and quiet from his abuse on your throat, “Please touch me, Shouto.” Your mind hazy with a lascivious fog clouding your senses, you can barely find the words to beg.

Even just his hands floating down to your breasts makes you shiver. Your lip between your teeth again, Shouto smirks at you as his fingers pinch the ribbon holding your bra together. Deliberately taking his time, he unravels the neat bow, examining how the silky fabric falls apart so smoothly. The bra cups fall to the side, exposing the smooth skin of your breasts to his feasting eyes. You release a string of mewls as his lips graze the marks he’d left behind earlier, darkening the blemishes with gentle bites. Tongue tracing around your areola, your thighs squeeze around his waist when the warm muscle brushes along a pebbled nipple. Pressing your lips together harshly as he sucks the pert bud into his mouth, your hips jolt against his. His hand kneads your other breast expertly, tweaking your nipple between his skilled fingers. The rough pads of his fingertips only make your nipples stand out more, scraping against you and sending your head spinning.

“You like that, Y/N? Want all my attention on you, don’t you, greedy girl?” Shouto purrs, your breast falling from his lips as he grins at your cheekily.

Swallowing another moan, your breath comes out ragged as you retort, “I could say the same for you, baby.” His fingers on your nipple press together in a pinch, eliciting a strained whimper from you.

Shouto chuckles, poking his tongue out to rove over your other breast, flicking the nub playfully before he speaks a single word. “Touché.” Drifting lower between your legs, his lips leave a wet path down your torso, nibbling and slickening your skin. His mouth littering your body with kisses, an artist eager to make a fresh blank canvas his own. Hot breath colliding with your glistening sex, he groans at the sight of you spread before him. “But damn, angel, can you really blame me?”

Without any warning, he thrusts his tongue into your folds, swiping vertically along your slit and dipping into your entrance with a moan, eyes closed as he relishes your sweet nectar. Your hips dig into the mattress as you struggle to handle the instant relief his touch provides, unfiltered noises of pleasure escaping you. One of his hands slides underneath your thigh to cup your ass and bring your body closer to his face.

Every time Shouto’s mouth is on you, you’re reminded of just how good he is at pleasuring you. He alternates between rubbing his tongue along your silky inner walls and curling the muscle around your clit, sucking the nerve into his mouth and applying just enough suction to steal your breath away. Your body reacts to his touch naturally, with each moan summoned true and raw.

His fingers prod your sex gently, coating the digits in your essence before they slide into your body at a snail’s pace. The friction of his touch inside of you makes your legs clamp around his head, eliciting a deep laugh from the man that reverberates against your clit. Your eyes roll backwards as he begins to pump the digits at a reasonable pace, knuckles curling deeply in search of that plush spot that makes you fall apart underneath him. Saliva mixing with your arousal, Shouto’s chin is drenched in the sinful concoction as he continues his hunt with determination.

“S-Shit,” you choke as his fingertips push into just the right place, your thighs gripping his head so tight you think you’ll crush him. But Shouto doesn’t seem to care, angling his wrist to gain better access, lithe fingers speeding up as his teeth graze your clit. His vigilant eyes fix on your face twisted in ecstasy, minding how your pussy begins to clench onto his digits in desperation, trying their best to suck them back inside. Your heels dig into his broad back as your body begins to squirm, preparing for your first orgasm of the night.

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Shouto pulls back. Your eyes fly open to look at him in distress, your lips parting with a gasp as your climax flees without a trace. “Shouto!” You hiss, regarding his sultry smirk in shock. This man has some audacity. “I was about to-”

He interrupts you, his fingers gliding back into your core without resistance, lips wrapping around your clit again. The sudden pleasure of the intensity stokes the mere embers of your previous orgasm with fervor, your head flinging backwards onto the pillow as your spine bows.

Your palms behind your back are slick with sweat, your hardened nipples cutting into the still air of the room as your body writhes on its own accord. Your thighs tremble ever-so-slightly on top of his shoulders, your eyes shutting again as you try your best to hold in your whimpers.

But Shouto doesn’t like that, his mouth abandoning your pearl to snarl, “If you wanna cum I’ve gotta hear your voice. I wanna hear you beg for me, baby.”

His dirty words send a new wave of humiliation crashing over you, your mind horrified at your body’s betrayal. Your submissive demeanor is by no means akin to your usual behavior during your weekly rendezvous, and you’re honestly impressed and shocked that Shouto had coaxed it out with such ease. Already you can feel the tension building in your core, your body happily receptive of his generous caress. Your chest heaves as you attempt to even your frazzled breaths, but once your focus switches to that, the pleasure increases exponentially between your legs. Your cunt quivers obviously, Shouto’s eyebrow raising as he shoots you a taunting look.

“I’m the only one who can get you so close so quick, angel. Aren’t I?” His mouth leaves your clit to speak but his teeth capture the nerve instead as he speaks, his hot breath steaming against your throbbing cunt.

Your chin against your chest, you nod vigorously, your hips inching closer to close the distance between your cunt and his mouth. Your fingers curled into fists against the sheets, your back sticks to the sheets with perspiration.

Shouto shakes his head, teeth releasing your aching clit as he clicks his tongue at you. “I said, let me hear you, Y/N.” His fingers pull out, the fingertips just barely inside as he rims your entrance, just enough to keep your pussy throbbing. He exhales, an icy breath rushing over your sopping sex.

“N-No!” You wail, your voice nearly breaking as your orgasm fades away once again. You were so fucking close! You let out another sob, tossing your head to the side in humiliating agony.

“There’s that divine voice of yours,” Shouto chuckles, nipping your inner thigh playfully. Taking his fingers away, his thumb replaces them as it glides over your soaked slit, dipping into your clenched core amusedly before tearing it away again. Your destitute whine only feeds his dominance, and he rolls his thumb over your puffy nerve gently, enjoying how your hips buck weakly in response. “Come on now, angel. Just tell me what I want to hear.”

Your chest jolts as his thumb presses down just a pinch, cruising down to rub your entrance brusquely. “You’re the only one that can make me so breathless, Shouto. Please,” your voice wavers as you grovel, eyes locking with his, “Please, make me cum! I need your touch, I need your cock, I— I need you!”

Shouto’s gaze flickers for a moment before he smirks, ducking down to kiss your clit softly. “See, baby? Was that so hard?” He murmurs, his words rumbling on your shivering pussy before his tongue parts your folds, driving deep inside you.

You scream at the intense bliss as his thumb works quickly over your clit, his tongue assaulting your velvet insides. Your thighs weakly tighten around his head, your body unable to stay still as the pleasure wracks through you. Lewd moans and swears tumble out of you as you grind against his face, thrilled by the way his tongue never tires. The pressure between your legs is back and faster heightening, your eyes flying open in shock at how astonishingly fast your climax is approaching.

“S-Shouto, I— I’m—,” is all that you can get out before you seize in his arms, your entire body spasming in ecstasy. Shouto only pins your hips down against the mattress with his free hand, forcing your legs to stay open as he continues to assault your cunt, tongue pummeling your tender core and thumb abusing your clit. You can’t even let out a moan because your lungs are empty— all that slithers out of you a string of shrill and broken cries. The pleasure thrums through your body from head to toe, your fingers and toes curling and splaying as sweat runs down your skin.

Shouto diligently continues to lap at your cunt, slurping up the fresh essence dripping out of you onto the sheets. When he pulls back all he can see is your blissed-out, flustered expression, and your nipples standing upright in arousal. Wiping his chin with the back of his hand, he tears the shirt off his shoulders in one swift motion. His slacks shed just as quick, he grabs your hips and throws you onto your front, your face once again in his pillow. “You came without my permission, angel. You wanna be a slut? I’ll treat you like a fucking slut,” he snarls, rugged palms coiling around your hips and forcing them into the air, bending your spine so your body transforms into a delicious arch.

Your heart slams against your ribs in apprehension, your mind still too woozy to make a complaint as his cock plunges inside of you. Your walls spread for his length welcomingly, your arousal and your cum lubricating your cunt. Your eyes roll back at the fullness— the stretch of him stuffing your cunt with his thick cock so delectably euphoric. You’re so wet that it doesn’t even hurt as he impales you, pleasure the only feeling coursing through you.

Shouto growls, your pussy hugging his length so snugly he has to take a moment for his head to stop spinning. “Fuuuck,” he utters huskily, sliding out halfway and inspecting how your cunt grips his slippery cock so desperately.

You cry out as he thrusts back in, the angle already perfectly locating your g-spot and making stars flash across your vision. Your body shakes as a palm cracks against your ass, more tears collecting on your lower lashes at the pain that hurts so good.

Shouto grabs the tie around your wrists with the other hand, yanking your body backwards to slap against his hard torso. Hands flying to your hips, he drills into you as he holds you upright against him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches, cunt trembling at the familiar tension building deep inside of you.

“You wanna fuckin’ cum already, don’t you, slut?” Shouto barks, a hand leaving your hip to hold your breast, trapping your nipple between his long fingers. The friction he provides is exquisite, and long, unabashed moans float out of your parted lips.

“Yes! Yes! Please— Make me cum, Shouto!” You howl, your toes curling at the sacred pleasure so close to peaking within you. Lips latched onto the claim he had laid on your neck, his teeth pinch your skin. His ragged grunts in your ear make your core clench around him, about to reach salvation for the second time.

“Do it, Y/N. I want my slutty angel pussy to cum all over this cock,” he commands, forcing your hips to crash down onto his so his tip jabs your g-spot harshly.

Your body collapses at his approval, cunt squeezing and fluttering and leaking onto him as you release a lewd scream. White hot bliss shoots through you as sinful tides of delirium pull you under. Your body trembles as the ecstasy pulses in your veins, your jaw unhinged and your eyes rolled into your skull.

Shouto pushes you forward so your torso falls flat against the mattress limply. His hips do not stall, continuing to push into your tightened cunt with determination as he drags out your orgasm. “Where’s my nasty little brat now?” He laughs crudely, slapping your ass gently and grabbing the reddened flesh, pulling your hips back against his. “Nothing to say, hmm?”

As if your brain is functional enough to form words. Your limbs feel like jello, wiggling with pleasure and shock as he advances his plight. Your throat is dry from all the panting, your ass sore underneath Shouto’s oppressive grip. But it feels so fucking good, you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

Shouto sucks a breath in between his grinding teeth, watching how your ass bounces against his pelvis as his cock slides into your depths. Sweat dripping down his chest and along your back, his hold on you is tight enough to cut off circulation. His lip twitches as he recognizes his orgasm creeping up inside, and he groans as he pulls out of you abruptly.

You whine at the loss, but you’re silenced immediately as he flips your body and presses his lips to yours. His kiss is pleasantly soft, a harsh contrast to his rough hands which slide around your back and fumble with the tie around your wrists. His tongue pushes inside your mouth, searching for yours and caressing it at first touch. Once the silky material slips off you, his hands rove over your breasts, massaging the heavy flesh tenderly as his cock brushes along your slit. A string of saliva stretches between you as his lips leave yours, a hot, breathy sigh fanning over your face. “This beautiful body is all mine, Y/N,” he whispers, tip slipping between your folds and entering your cunt with ease.

Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of your aching hole being filled once again, but the pain makes the pleasure so much more enjoyable. His lips wander along your neck as he begins to thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He kisses along your clavicle and down your breast, tongue washing over your nipple as his cock brushes along your velvet walls so perfectly.

The friction has your eyes nearly crossed, and the pleasure only intensifies when Shouto guides your legs to rest against his chest, your ankles by his ears. The angle allows greater access, his thick member reaching new depths that elicit a sharp gasp from you. His left hand pushes your abdomen down slightly, his thumb travelling south to flick along your clit lazily.

“Shit, Shouto, I— s-so sensitive,” you whimper, your hand timidly reaching out to rest on his flexing abdominal muscles. The sensation of him dragging against your g-spot so sensually causes your bottom lip to tremble, a tear sneaking down your cheek to land in your hair.

Shouto’s large hand guides yours to land on your thigh, and he tucks his arm so his own hand covers yours as he pulls your thighs closer to him. “One more, baby,” he moans, the thumb on your clit speeding up.

The extra attention summons that familiar build up in your core, a long whine falling from your lips. “I can’t, I can’t,” you mewl but your body says otherwise, pussy tightening slightly as your ankles cross behind his neck.

“I thought you wanted to cum, angel?” He uses your words against you as he sighs, hips picking up to ram into yours. He holds his breath as you clamp down on him, your sinful expression fueling his impending orgasm. “You gonna make me finish on my own?”

The thought of him blowing his load into you has you biting your lip, your hips shuffling against his. Shouto moans, thumb circling your puffy nerve even faster as he continues to pound into you. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the room, the only noise to interrupt that your huffs and moans.

Steam billows from Shouto’s nose as his eyes nearly close, his abs flexing out of his torso as he fights to keep his orgasm at bay. His heavy breath and visible restraint convince your body to give in, and you weep as you sink into euphoria for the third time tonight. Shouto’s right there with you, a strangled growl mixed with a moan ripping from his lungs as his seed spurts into you, his cock twitching and balls draining as he falls to his elbows above you.

Your body feels sluggish as your limbs tremble slightly, the high from your orgasm still clouding your brain as your arms wrap around Shouto’s shoulders. His cold breath refreshes the moist, flushed skin on your neck, long eyelashes tickling your jaw as your nails scrape carefully down his spine.

When he pulls out your body feels incomplete, but Shouto nuzzles into your jaw affectionately, his hands sliding between the damp sheets and your skin to hold you close. He scatters sluggish, persistent kisses along your throat and up your jaw. And when he moves to your face, they only become longer and more intimate, gently guiding you back to reality.

You sigh in content as you lean in to capture his lips, moving sweet and slow against each other. Your digits amble into his hair, combing back the soft tresses so you can see more of his charming face. He moans at your touch, pleased by the soothing sensation of your fingers feathering along his scalp. His own hand follows your lead, fingers steering a stray hair off your forehead and gliding into your tresses to hold your head in his palm.

The pair of you continue to kiss for who knows how long, touching each other tenderly and savoring the feeling of skin against skin. Your lips melding into one, cradling one another fragilely as if you mutually fear the other will break without your embrace. You could spend eternity like this, high off his ambrosial, tender care.

You are the one to pull away first, knowing Shouto would keep this going until morning if he didn’t think you’d come back down from your high. Not that you would mind that, but you should probably clean up the mess that your passionate session had created— his release beginning to trickle out of you onto the sheets. As he pulls back, the emotions swirling in his striking two-toned gaze shock you. His brow is slightly creased as he nibbles at the corner of his lip, eyes darting around your face.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, sitting up and scooting off the mattress, disappearing around the corner of the bathroom door. The sound of water splashing in the sink fills the silence as you sit still, closing your eyes as the cogs in your brain begin to turn.

Oh god, you’d been so shameless tonight— you’d taunted him and he had made you fall apart and beg in return, bending to his every command. Sure, he had always been the dominant one in your rendezvous before, but tonight was different. He had been jealous, when he had no right to be. But is that why your heart is beating so quickly in your chest? Suddenly you’re anxious, overthinking as usual. This is just sex, right?

But then, why did you leave Shinsou’s side so quickly at the bar when Shouto had been the one to cancel on you? And then there was that, too— why had he just ditched his friends in the middle of boys’ night when it was the reason he cancelled on you in the first place? And he had clearly been furious at the thought of you spending the night with another man. Was it because he knew Shinsou? Or was it because he wanted to be exclusive with you?

Well, if he wanted to be exclusive friends with benefits, isn’t that the same thing as dating? Would he ever date someone like you? Wait, would you even be willing to date him? Do you want him to be your… boyfriend? Your eyes widen and a pink girlish blush emerges on your cheeks at the label. What are you, eight years old? Why do you feel so giddy at the possibility of him wanting you, for more than your body?

Shouto strolls out of the bathroom just in time to catch that embarrassing look on your face, but he only smiles sincerely at you and it makes you blush even harder. What the hell? You’re extra submissive for one night and now you’re thinking about your feelings for him? Wait, did you just admit you have feelings for him?

He clambers over to you in the middle of the bed, a washcloth draped on his slender finger. He leans down and pecks you like it’s no big deal, humming as his lips linger on yours just long enough to make you want more. Your body jumps at the feeling of the damp warmth the towel provides, but you relax as the feeling soothes your aching core.

“Was that okay? How do you feel, baby?” Shouto asks softly, watchful eyes gauging your expression as you look at him. “You seemed like you were enjoying yourself, but, I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You let out a breathless, mirthful chuckle at his concern, reaching out to put your hand on his strong arm. “No, I’m fine. And it was… great. Mind-blowing, actually,” you smile at him bashfully, hoping it was just as good for him.

Shouto’s eyes twinkle as he smiles back, nodding slowly. “It was, wasn’t it?” He helps you sit up, maneuvering you carefully off the bed and gesturing for you to use the bathroom.

After relieving yourself, you look at yourself in the mirror that hangs above the sink, vision falling on the massive bruise blossoming on your neck. You sigh when you inspect the purple mark, but when your gaze floats back to your face, you’re dumbstruck to find yourself grinning like a fool. Terror and thrill floods through you at the realization that if any other guy had left a mark this nasty on you, you’d be furious. And yet, having Shouto’s claim on you makes you feel like the luckiest girl on the planet.

Shit. Looks like you do want him to be your boyfriend.

You’re half expecting the reflection to show a stupid cartoon character with the way that your heart feels like it’s thumping out of your chest. Taking in a deep breath, you determinedly point at yourself in the mirror and breath out shakily, “You can do this.”

Exiting the bathroom, you return to find Shouto leaning against the headboard, the sheets pulled up to his waist and his fingers rubbing together awkwardly. His eyes on his lap, he almost looks anxious. But he notices your presence right away, peeling back the corner of the blanket and beckoning you to slide in.

Placing yourself stiffly on the side of the bed, you take in his confused expression. “I need to tell you something,” you say as steadily as possible. Man, that’s a scary sentence, even if you’re not on the receiving end.

Shouto’s lips part and he looks like he wants to say something, but he swallows whatever it was down and nods, his expression guarded. “I’m all ears,” he replies, placing his hand on the pillow in front of you.

With the spotlight on you, your throat feels dry as dirt, and you nervously shuffle, suddenly very conscious of your nakedness. “Um,” falls out of your mouth, anything to split the suffocating silence. Your palms are clammy, and your fingers delve into the folds of the sheets to hide your nerves. “I know this is gonna sound kind of lame, but… well, I um…” Shouto’s gaze is burning your face, your cheeks redder than ever as you will this humiliation to just end already. Sucking in another breath, the words blurt out of you. “I have feelings for you.”

The surprise on his features is unmistakable. All you can do is stare at him, frozen in uncertainty but strangely enough it feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. A heavy one at that— one whose existence you refused to acknowledge until ten minutes ago.

“R-Really?” Shouto stutters, looking like he’s just seen a ghost with how wide his eyes are.

You aren’t sure how to take that response, but as soon as your gaze falls from his, his hand shoots out to latch onto your wrist. When you look back at him, a different emotion is painted over his face, one of… hope?

“I have feelings for you, too, Y/N,” he whispers, his own blush dusting over his cheeks. His eyes are soulful and hold nothing but candor and content.

Before you can process his words, his hands are rounding your waist and pulling your body toward his. A different kind of high bursts through you as his lips touch yours, joy storming through the both of you and warm, tingly static crackling between you. These kisses feel different— your heart feels like it’s about to pop, swelling with excitement and relief. Shouto begins to laugh against your lips, and the alluring sound infects you, too, as you join him with a giggle. The both of you are laughing at nothing in particular, but you don’t need a reason to let the noises of elation loose.

Once your laughter ceases, Shouto collects your chin in his hand and places a gentle kiss upon your grinning lips. When he pulls back, his eyes contain a wisp of that jealous fire that had consumed him only hours earlier, and he shoots you a mischievous smirk as he squeezes your ass playfully. “Do you think Shinsou could ever make you feel this good, angel?”

You roll your eyes, chuckling in exasperation at this man’s relentless, absurd envy. “Hmm,” you pretend to think for a moment before you lean closer to him, hands hung loosely around the back of his neck. “Shinsou? Never heard of him.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

you reached the end!! thanks for reading this long ass fic lmao, i know it was an investment. I hope the ending was not too cringe, I usually just end my fics after the nut but I wanted to try something new :’) be sure to lmk if you enjoyed <3

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

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tainted-wine · 3 years

Note

Oh wow first of all please let me congratulate you on your skill and good taste. I absolutely adore all of your hawks writing. It's so good and also hilarious when you want it to be. I especially love how annoyed he seems to get with song birds, and that low-key makes me wonder how he would be with a reader w a songbird quirk. Like he wants to find her annoying so badly, and in some ways he does? But at the same time he knows they have a lot of shared experiences as ppl with bird mutation quirks and that's kind of nice for him? To have someone to share that with, you know? Idk.

You're super sweet, anon. ♥

(This turned into a messy ficlet thing)

I don't know why I decided to make Hawks a songbird hater; it’s just a headcanon I decided to stay consistent with for whatever reason.

I've actually gotten similar asks like this and I'm currently hoarding them all in the hopes of one day making something out of it, because I love this idea very much. Hawks views songbirds as obnoxious hopeless romantics. Do they really need to be that loud about their love? It's like having the top 100 love songs playing all at once.

He already admitted that you were pretty cute when you both first met. Your wings were smaller and required frequent and rapid flaps, the opposite of his large and soaring pair. Very cute, along with your shyness in approaching a bird of prey such as him, but he promises that he doesn't bite. Then your singing began...

It’s instinctual, you say. Once your fondness for him grew strong enough, the urge to vocalize your love in the form of a song specially made for him became impossible to fight. He’ll predictably tease you at first. Creating a melody straight from your heart, the sound of your voice perfectly simulating the strength of your bond, giving other listeners a mere taste of a relationship they could not have. It’s corny, it’s sappy...

It’s so freakin’ sweet.

He blamed your quirk at first. It had to be some secondary ability that attracted whoever you decided to sing about, like some bewitching siren. It’s a dumb accusation; he trusts that you’d never manipulate him like that. It may even ignite a petty argument or two, but in the end, Hawks will accept it. He loves your song.

As wonderful as it is to just listen, he feels that he needs to reciprocate, but what is he gonna do? Sing back?? He doesn’t know how to do that. His instincts were telling him to show his appreciation in another way.

It’s instinctual, he says. He expresses the joy he feels around you by performing an amazing aerobatics show. It’s quite nerve-wracking at first. So many daring maneuvers — twirls, turns, dives, and flips — all just to impress you. And he has the gall to call songbird traditions excessive? So many of these moves could have killed him if he didn’t time them just right! It’s so dangerous, so reckless...

So spectacular.

As exciting as it was for the two of you to flaunt your natural skills, both of your rituals felt incomplete. You wanted Hawks to sing back. Hawks wanted you to dance beside him in the sky. One discussion later, you both decide on...a cultural exchange of sorts.

You want Hawks to sing? You want him to sing? Even after he promises you that his voice sounds more unsettling than the screeching of violins in a horror movie? Fine. You even protest when he mentions practicing. “Just sing from your heart,” you say. Ugh, whatever. He warned you.

At the crack of dawn, Hawks does everything as instructed. He joins your side at the top of the Fukuoka tower, and sings his heart out. He sounds terrible, he’s certain of it, but he ignores his blush of embarrassment and keeps going, letting his passion guide him like you told him.

His song is everything you could’ve asked for. His voice was shrill, unsteady, and had absolutely zero technique. But it was so...him. So Keigo Takami. The melody carries his courage and compassion. His tone reveals uncertainty in his singing, but it also reveals the raw confidence in his love and devotion. It leaves your heart melting, and before you knew it, you were joining him in a duet, trying your best to harmonize with his...erm...unique vocals. The song went on as the sun rose, prompting several noise complaints about a ‘dying bird that needs to be put out of its damn misery already.’

You give the flustered hawk a hug and kiss for that beautiful masterpiece. You also make sure he doesn’t see those complaints. He already feels awkward enough about his performance.

Alright, now it’s your turn to feel anxious. Very anxious. As Hawks led you to the seaside park, he reminded you once again that he doesn’t expect you to pull off any expert moves in the air. “If you’re really not sure what to do, then just follow my lead. I won’t do anything crazy up there. This is about trust.”

You trust that he’ll save you if anything goes wrong, whether it be during the warm-up or during the....oof, you shudder just thinking about it.

The first act has you taking off over the water, warming up your wings before your own little stunt show begins. Knowing your body’s limits, you focus on flight patterns and speed, pushing your flying abilities further than you ever have before. It doesn’t even compare to Hawks’s amazing moves — you were too scared to even attempt any of those flips — but at least you pulled off a couple spins, and Hawks looks captivated while watching from below.

You tried not to look out of breath already when it was time for act two. Hawks took flight, passing you and heading upwards. You followed, mirroring every single one of his little tricks (he thankfully kept his promise of not doing anything crazy) as you both flew higher and higher until the air became uncomfortably thin. You’ve never been this high up before.

Reaching the desired altitude, Hawks took your hands and locked them in his, bringing you in close. He gives you a few light pecks while praising your skills. “I’ve never seen you zip around like that. Such a quick and clever little bird.” The flattery almost distracts you from the final act, the part you’ve been dreading the most.

The very idea of the Death Spiral still sounds utterly insane, even as you’re about to attempt it yourself.

All you do is hover and hold each other for a minute or two, then Hawks gives the unspoken cue. His wings fold in, you quickly follow suit, and you’re both plummeting down headfirst toward the water. You did end up screaming halfway down, but at least you were still able to remain fairly focused until the end. You were just a few meters away from impact when you and Hawks simultaneously released your grip, just barely righting yourself before you could make an embarrassing splash.

Hawks tackles you hard into the ground the second you’ve recovered, hugging you tightly and attacking with rapid fire kisses.

“You did it, baby!” Kiss. “That was so intense!” Kiss. “I never thought I’d find someone to do the Spiral with!” Smooch. “You’re so brave. Thank you for trusting me!” Mwah.

You’re shaking too violently and need to go find a bathroom immediately.

---

And that’s how you and Hawks became mates and learned to better respect each other’s bird traditions. Hawks now owns a songbird calender that hangs in his bedroom.

#asks #hawks

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insufferablelust · 4 years

Note

you and spencer teasing each other all day at work to see who breaks first and it ends with you and him have some rough sexy times in an empty office 🥵 (it do be horny hours rn)

if it isn’t one of my favorite tumblr accounts ever! such an honor to write this! i changed some stuff and its super long i know:( but hopefully you’ll still like it! thank you for requesting bub! i love you! (and yes HORNY HOURS = every hour basically for me)

OKAY WARNINGS BE RESPONSIBLE : THIS IS SMUT basically just porn, Semi-Public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, Dom!Spencer, Sub!reader, Fluff!!, Unprotected sex (don’t you dare!), um what else.. uh oh! bratty!reader, vibrating panties?, and some sprinkle of curious Prentiss + Garcia duo! as always excuse my grammatical errors, thank you.

Happy Reading, please feel free to send me more requests, Smut, fluff, angst, whichever you like! ❤️

it started out silly, you and Spencer have been together for a year now, after you joined the BAU, your fascination grew quickly for the doctor, the way he talk, the way he stuck out his lip when he concentrates, the way his fingers move when he’s explaining about quantum physics, and the way his stares could easily make someone give up control easily.

And lucky you, 5 months into the job it turns out that Spencer is equally smitten when it comes to you, the way you gaze up at him shyly, the way you can go from a tiny cute kitten to a mother lion, the way you run your mouth sometimes makes him want to shut you up, preferably with his lips against yours. As if you were both have always been meant to be, he sealed the relationship and now it has been going on for about a year.

Right from the beginning of your relationship, it’s always been clear that you’re the submissive out of the two, you both switch sometimes, but most of the time he loves the thrill and feeling of taking control over you, dominate you in smallest ways possible. Like picking what you wear sometimes, braiding your hair when you go out, setting up your bed time because you won’t sleep otherwise and you both need to works. Since you live together, in this household what Spencer Reid said goes, and you’re content with that, relinquishing control after days of catching serial killers and filling out paperworks feels so good and you definitely love when he takes care of you.

But when there’re rules, there are punishments. Now you see, you can get really bratty when you want to be, sometimes it’s not even intentional, maybe you have had a bad day and been snapping at your coworkers all day, at one time even snapped at Spencer when you were on a case, of course spencer won’t let that behavior slide so right after the case, let’s just say that you limped your way to the bullpen the very next day. Yet there are also times when you just act bratty on purpose, defying him, rolling your eyes, interrupt his ramblings, even tease him under the table during dinner- now that, that is the behavior that never fails to earn you the best nights of your lives.

And its an advantage for you when he proposed the idea, right on your anniversary eve. Spencer just finished showering as he entered the bedroom to find you reading one of Rossi’s newest book, he chuckled softly as he put on his pajamas and lays down next to you that cause you to immediately put down the book cuddle close to him. You glanced towards the analog clock beside Spencer as it read 23:55 on it, “it’s 5 minutes until—“

“Our anniversary, I know baby.” He interrupts, as he wrap his arms around you and placing soft kisses all over your face. “Do you know, astronomers estimates that there are about 100 thousand stars in the Milky Way alone?” He randomly mumbled, earning himself a giggle, as you softly ran your palm up and down his cheeks, “and your point being, Dr.Reid?”

“Oh I don’t know, if god is in fact real, I’m just grateful that the universe give me the brightest most powerful star amongst all. I mean isn’t that something?” He chuckled, looking down at you- directly at your eyes.

You feel your lips wobbled as a tear threaten to slip out of your eyes, before sniffling “hey, hey baby, why are you crying? Did I said something wrong” he worriedly placed leans on his elbow, lay you down on your pillows.

“No you dumb genius, I just love you so much and I don’t know what to do with it” You pouts as you hear him laughing the infamous Spencer’s laugh before leaning down to kiss your lips hungrily, cupping your jaw, and tangle your tongues together.

Your fingers manage to grip his hair, as you pull him off, gulping down a deep breath “w-were you trying to kill me?” To which he laughed and shrug “I was just showing you what to do with it, (y/n)”

“Mmm You can definitely show me more than that... sir” and with that his whole demeanor changes, like staring into a different person, you bit your lip in anticipation, feeling his palm roams up your sides, whilst his lip graze across your skin delicately- almost like he’s taunting you. Just as he was about to kiss you, he pulled back and grin,

“Is that so, love? I have a different idea in mind though�� He smiles at your agape jaw, and the curiosity that’s glimmering through those glassy eyes, Spencer is a genius— you’re always excited on what he have in store for you in that brilliant mind of yours.

“May I know what it is, Dr.Reid?” Your heart flutter as you see him smiling, meaning he’s pleased with the way you asked. “You’ve been good for me, but i hope you haven’t forget that little stunt you pulled a week ago, i certainly haven’t, sweetheart.”

Your heart dropped as your thighs clenched together, a week ago right before a case, you were bratty, teased Spencer the whole day, from rubbing him underneath the table, and even pretended that you’ve dropped your fork so you can bend down. He was planning to pull you over his lap then and there but the plan got canceled right as Garcia announced that the LAPD needs them on a double homicide case. You honestly thought he has forgotten about it, but you cursed internally as you remember that your boyfriend has an eidetic memory.

“Oh look at you, your lips goes pale then you’re visibly shuddering. What? Don’t say you’ve forgotten about it”

“N-no sir! Its just that... I, are you going to punish me?”

“No, at least not until tomorrow night. How about, we play a little game?” He suggested, as he brush his thumb on your lower lip, and you suckle on it as a sign of agreement.

“Tomorrow, unless a case comes up, we’re both allowed to tease each other starting from the moment we wake up until we comes home from work. Whoever break first, looses and have to do everything the other person asks for the night plus the whole next day.”

If your panties wasn’t soaked already, it definitely is now. You shudder and nod in response, sucking his thumb contently before popping them out of your mouth “yes please sir, I would like that.”

“Good girl, now lay back and let’s savor tonight before we torture each other tomorrow.”

And at that, your anniversary night was perfect.

————— next morning

The first thing on your mind today is that it’s going to be sucks, waking up to your boyfriend nibbling the reminiscent of the last night’s marks on your neck is certainly not the way to go for you— not if you want to win this.

So like a good girl that you are, you push Spencer lightly so he’s laying on his back and straddle his hips, an innocent smile displayed on your face as you lightly grind your hips down— feeling him harden underneath you.

“Y/n, it’s not fair” the way his morning voice sounds makes you clench at nothing, fluttering your eyes shut before letting out an over exaggerated whimper “but you never said there are any rule but to have an actual sex and we aren’t having sex right now, aren’t we sir?” You batted your eyelash at him as you lick your lips slowly.

Spencer grunts, before gripping your hips and threw you onto the bed— his hand immediately settled itself on your neck, fingers right on top of your pulse pressing down. “Fine, kitten. You wanna play that way? we’ll play that way, but just know that i will always win so be ready to get ruined tonight” your parted your lips due to the lack of oxygen, letting out a bratty remark “Talk is c-cheap, sir”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he try to compose himself, but then he realized how you’re playing the game— he’s damn good at his job after all. So when you thought he was loosing it, he kept his calm and get off of you, before pressing a soft kiss on your cheeks.

“Happy anniversary baby, I love you. Let’s get ready for work okay?” and at that he’s walking to the shower, leaving you breathless and confused. Your hand itching to slip itself between your thighs, god you are soaking.

————

After an excruciatingly long shower and breakfast, you headed upstairs to change your clothes. As you were about to open your closet, Spencer calls you from the bedroom.

“Y/n, i want you to wear this today.”

You stepped into the bedroom as you see the outfit he laid on the bed, casual work outfit, a blouse, coat, and dress skirt— but what you see next is what makes your jaw dropped. The damn panties. For your 6 month anniversary, Spencer got you two sets of vibrating panties, the one he can actually control with his cellphone, now you’ve wore it dozens of times but never on the job, and definitely not when you’re in some type of game like this.

“Spencer that’s not fair!” You whined loudly and cross your arms in front of your chest, knowing damn well that if you wear the panties, you’ll lose immediately.

“But just like you said, No rules right? so as far as i’m concerned you’ll still obey every command i give you unless you safe word, isn’t that right baby?” Oh the bastard is definitely smug now,

“y-yes! but—“

“ah ah rules are rules princess, so unless you say the word, put on the damn panties and address me properly, it’s doctor or sir.” You’re definitely loosing but you damn will go down fighting.

————

Your team definitely realized that something is up between you and spencer, it’s 10 now and you’ve both been on your phones all day, Emily even noticed how you kept bang your knee against the desk today, which earned her a smile from you and a whisper of “oh just nervous tics” If only she knows how cruel these stupid panties are, you thought.

Spencer may have the upper hand but you certainly doesn’t make it easy for him either, every so often you will pass by his desk, and pretend to bend over to pick something you ‘accidentally dropped’ or rubbing his bulge underneath the table as you went to a nearby cafe for lunch with Morgan and Prentiss. and you can’t forget how flushed he becomes when you call him ‘Dr.Reid’ almost every time you talk to him. At one point you got him so good that he’s this close to pinning you on the nearest wall and just have his way with you. But Spencer is not one to lose, and you knows that better than anyone.

As the night comes, you and Spencer are right on the edge— just wanting to literally tear each other’s clothes off. Most of the people are already gone, That being JJ who left early because Henry is sick, Hotch and Rossi were on a meeting downstairs and Morgan got a date. Lastly, Penelope and Emily is picking up a classified unsolved murder case file from the police department, which meant you and spencer has approximately an hour before Hotch and Rossi finishes their meetings or Penelope and Emily went back.

Of course, Spencer caught on that too, that’s why you’re struggling to not moan due to the immense pleasure you’re feeling between your thighs, all day today he never set the settings to the highest level because he may be cruel but he knows your limit— but now, now is the perfect time to win.

Your legs starts to shake feeling yourself getting so close that you know you can’t take it anymore. Shakily reaching your phone, you typed in a message quickly,

“You win. The empty office near storage, now” you typed in quickly, dragging yourself to the office near Garcia’s den and leaning against the desk, muttering curses of swear words.

“Normally i would be mad at you for demanding that way but seeing how needy you seemed, i decided to be nice and let that slide” You turned around before hurriedly locking the door behind him, reached down to grab his phone and turn off the vibration— steadying your breathing as you lean against his chest.

“you a-are mean” you blurted out, gnawing your teeth at the base of his collar, fingers clawing at his dress shirt as you greedily rub your nipples against his front— god you’ll do absolutely anything for this man.

“Oh you thought that was mean? I’ll give you mean, you little slut” He whispered and laughed deeply beside your ear— earning himself a moan from you.

Your eyes widen as he effortlessly carried you to the center of the room where the desk sat, and place you down on the edge of it, His fingers skillfully taking your blouse off as his lips are against yours in a bruising kiss.

He trailed his kisses downwards, biting and licking the pulse point on your neck as his hand brush so delicately against your clothed panties— you moaned out loudly as you buck your hips and grip his hair. Spencer looks up at you before shaking his head disappointedly, taking off his belt, tying your hands on your back, and shove his tie onto your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Now there you go, my helpless baby. Just enjoy this and don’t make a sound” He whispered before bending down to take your panties off, sliding them down your legs and bunch your skirt up around your waist before taking his own pants off and grip the base of his cock,

“Ready sweetheart?” He breathlessly asked, laughing when he pretend to be shocked when you can’t answer, shakes his head before pushing himself into you slowly— “oh fuck, so tight— and warm” he grunts against your neck.

Your head thrown back as you feel him start to move, your muffled moans could be heard as you feel the intense pleasure from the way his cock brushes against your sweet spot everytime he thrusts into you, pulling his tie from your mouth.

“Thats it baby, keep quiet alright? we don’t want anyone to find out how needy and messy you are. So good for me, my good girl” He praised and praised, which makes you mewl, trying to suppress it as best as you could. “Oh! ah ah! Sir please!” You aren’t even sure what is it you’re begging anymore, you just need him to keep fucking you and make you cum.

“please what? hm? please what sweet girl?” His breathing is heavy as he pounds his cock with a brutal pace, feeling himself getting close, as your walls clenched around him “Such a tight cunt.” He groaned. “Please— m-may i cum? please sir! i’ve been good” you gripped the sides of his belt as you feel your high right on the teetering edge, letting out a loud scream as soon as he said,

“Cum, Now. Do it for me, cum baby— fuck that’s it, good girl” every praises spill out of his lips as he keeps on pounding you, before letting himself release inside you, making you whine in sensitivity and the filling of being full- full of him. After cleaning yourself up, you checked the clock, that shows you’ve been there for an hour and few minutes, sighing as you tried to stand up

“I love you, Spencer Reid” Your legs wobble when youre about to fall, Spencer immediately catch you and steady you up on your feet, slightly chuckling “I love you too baby, happy anniversary”. After few more kisses and some steadying, you walked out of the empty office back to your desks in the bullpen, smiling to yourself as you look around to find that no one’s there.

Except, you never bothered to look in the right direction— garcia thought as she tried to erase the memory of seeing the team’s two babies fucking like animals. Oh well thank god it wasn’t Morgan.

————

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE REBLOG, AND LEAVE A LIKE❤️

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurbs #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid imagine #spenced reid x y/n #insufferableblurb #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds smut #dom!spencer

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cactusnymph · 3 years

Text

Prompt fill #4 for @dimension20alphabet:

Dares

“Hey Fig”, Fabian hears the Genasi girl—Romilda? Rowina? Ronalda?—say after their latest Bard class on Tuesday. He’s breathing heavily after finishing his latest dance routine and he’s not actively listening to their conversation, but Fig stopped beside him to ask if he wanted to try dancing to one of her new compositions.

“I wanted to ask if you could—uh. Maybe give me the crystal number of your friend?”

Fabian grins down at his battle sheet, trying to remember if Romilda—or whatever her name was—is pretty and whether or not he wants Fig to give her his number.

“Which one?”, Fig asks, which is honestly ridiculous. He is easily the most attractive one—

“Umm... Riz?”

Fabian stops folding his battle sheet and blinks before straightening his back to turn his head. Rowina is twirling a very pretty, blue curl around her index finger. She’s very attractive and Fabian is not sure he heard correctly.

“Oh, sorry. He’s not available”, Fig says with an apologetic smile and Fabian feels his stomach knot into something very unpleasant. Which makes sense, because first of all, The Ball always insists on him and Fabian being best friends. If Riz has a girlfriend, why wouldn’t Fabian know about it?

Second, Fabian is offended because it’s completely preposterous that The Ball is supposed to be in a relationship while Fabian is not. That’s just absurd.

Sure, The Ball is endearing and smart and funny and loyal. But he’s The Ball. Tiny, skinny, nerdy, socially awkward.

“Oh... Oh, sorry, I didn’t know”, Ronalda says and seems very embarrassed before she turns around and rushes out of the classroom. Fig watches her leave and shakes her head before pulling a cigarette out of her backpack to put it behind her ear.

“Since when is The Ball not available? And why the fuck would a girl like that want his number?”, Fabian asks Fig the second they step out of the classroom to head to the cafeteria.

“Well, I just know that Riz just wouldn’t be interested in someone like that. And also, what the fuck Fabian, why are you being such a dick?”

Fabian wants to know what Fig means by ‘someone like that’. He also wants to ask further questions but he’s sure that it might sound weird to get so defensive about something like this. It’s not like he’s actually interested in The Ball’s love life. Or who he’s potentially kissing. Because that would be weird.

Plus, Fabian could get all the kisses that he wants. He just so happens to concentrate on his dancing right now. And if the whole thing with Aelwyn turned out to be a disaster, then that has nothing to do with him or what a great catch he is. That was simply because they weren’t actually as compatible as they originally thought.

“I’m not being a dick, I’m just saying that it seems wild that someone would want The Ball’s number instead of mine!”

Fig rolls her eyes at him.

“She’s not the first one to ask, you know. Riz has gotten pretty popular after the whole Goldenrod thing at prom”, she says and looks at him with raised eyebrows. Fabian snorts disbelievingly.

Sure, The Ball has changed a lot since they first met. And since, after their Spring Break, he stopped wearing his weird hat maybe Fabian would even go as far as to call him kind of handsome. If he thought about guys like that.

Which he doesn’t.

But the thought that all of a sudden people want to date The Ball is just ridiculous.

“Oh yeah?”, Fabian asks and snorts a little louder than was maybe necessary. “And who else is interested in The Ball?”

Fig narrows her eyes at Fabian and raises her hand before she starts listing names.

“Theo from Barbarian class. Kat from clerics. Ragh said that Riz is cute just yesterday. And Gorgug keeps getting questions about Riz from the Bloodrush team.”

She looks at him as if she’s expecting a very specific reaction from him. Fabian’s first thought is that he somehow feels like he should run every single guy on the team into the ground who asked Gorgug about Riz.

Then he wonders why people never ask him about The Ball.

Then he wonders if The Ball likes guys or girls. If Fabian remembers correctly Baron was a guy, but he was also a nightmare came to life and doesn’t count. Probably.

Then Fabian gets annoyed again because he feels like he doesn’t know all these things.

And then he thinks that maybe Ragh should stay in his lane.

He tries to imagine Ragh and The Ball on a date together, getting their kisses in with each other and it’s ludicrous, completely insane, but his skin feels way too tight for his body all of a sudden and there’s a rush of heat in his abdomen that has nothing to do with dance practice.

“You okay, dude?”, Fig wants to know as she carries her tray over to a table where Kristen, Adaine and Gorgug are already sitting.

“What? Yeah. Sure. Whatever”, he snaps, sits down next to Gorgug and starts poking at the atrocity on his plate that is supposed to be lasagna but looks weirdly like something that might come alive and attack him at any moment.

“What’s gotten his panties twisted?”, Kristen wants to know after one look at him.

“He’s pissed because people want to date Riz”, Fig says and Fabian considers grabbing a handful lasagna and throwing it at Fig.

“Why would you be pissed about that?”, Gorgug asks, confused. There is a beat of silence that makes Fabian raise his head just in time to realize that Adaine has cast Message to tell Gorgug something telepathically.

Gorgug makes a face that shows way too much understanding for Fabian’s tastes because there is really nothing to understand about this whole situation. This is ridiculous. His friends are being ridiculous. And the idea of The Ball being popular is—

“Hey guys”, a voice says and The Ball slides into the seat next to Fig.

Did The Ball always have so many freckles? And hair that looks way too soft to be legal?

Fabian stares at him.

Riz stares back.

“What?”, he asks.

“Nothing”, Fabian snaps and starts eating his lasagna. It tastes just as terrible as it looks. It’s hard to ignore the pointed looks that Gorgug, Fig, Adaine and Kristen exchange meaningful looks with each other.

“Anyway”, Fig says, ignoring Fabian and turning to the others. “Theo is throwing a party this weekend, do you guys wanna go?”

“Sure”, Kristen says.

“Is it one of those parties where people drink way too much and then throw up all over the house?”, Adaine asks.

Fig shrugs.

“I don’t know. Theo is pretty chill and his parents aren’t home, but I guess it would be cool if we just. You know. Stayed in our group and chilled with some beer or whatever. And he said we don’t have to bring our own booze because I gave him one of our records for free.”

“Sure. Yeah. We can like. Hang. Who knows, maybe I’ll even drink a whole beer this time”, The Ball says in the same voice he tends to use when he says the words ‘hooking up’.

“No hard drugs though”, Gorgug says with a look at Fabian.

“Hey! That wasn’t my idea! That dude just came up and kissed me straight on the mouth!”

“Wait, you kissed a dude?”, Kristen wants to know.

Fabian glares at her.

“I didn’t kiss a dude. He kissed me, okay? It was during our boys’ night and I was very high afterwards.”

“Must have been one hell of a kiss”, Kristen says with a smirk. Fabian is ready to throw his tray through the cafeteria but he doesn’t get the chance because at this point a dude he’s never seen before steps up to their table.

“Hey Riz. You coming on Saturday? I invited Fig and you guys over to my party.”

The Ball smiles awkwardly and scratches the back of his head.

“Uh—yeah. I’ll be there, I guess.”

“Sweet. See you then!”

Fabian stares at the guy who is at least as tall as him, fucking jacked—probably because he’s in a damn barbarian class, and he has a damn eyebrow piercing. What a tool.

Kristen wiggles her eyebrows at Riz and he has the nerve to blush darkgreen.

“Stop it!”

“Soo... Theo, huh?”, Kristen says.

“Kristen”, Riz says and buries his face in his hands. Fabian wonders if Theo is the person who Fig was talking about when she said that The Ball is not available. And not interested in people like Romilda. He wouldn’t be, of course, if he’s into guys.

Guys like Theo.

The Ball is interested in guys. And Fabian didn’t know.

“Fabian, bro, you alright, dude? You seem a little on edge”, Ragh says on Friday while they’re out on the field throwing some balls—the irony doesn’t escape him.

“Did you know that The Ball is into guys?”, Fabian asks before he manages to stop himself. Ragh throws the ball to him and Fabian catches it without issue before throwing it right back at Ragh, maybe a little harder than the ones before.

“I mean, kinda? I don’t think Riz knows what he’s really into. Especially because he’s super freaked out about the whole sex thing, you know. But I guess he’s not not into guys. More into guys than girls. Why? That bother you?”

Fabian isn’t sure how to explain to a gay guy that he’s offended about The Ball being into dudes without sounding like the worst homophobe. It’s not that he minds. He’s just pissed because he didn’t know. Because they’re supposed to be best friends—and okay, maybe The Ball was always very insistent on that and Fabian never actually confirmed it. But if Fabian is The Ball’s best friend, shouldn’t Fabian know about this?

Doesn’t The Ball trust him?

“I mean. No. Obviously not. I don’t give a shit”, Fabian says and watches as Ragh raises his eyebrows at him.

“Dude, remember how we talked about feelings and letting them out and like, being truthful about our emotions and stuff?”

Fabian does remember, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

“Fig said that you think The Ball is cute”, Fabian says instead and Ragh shrugs, the ball still firm in his hands

“I mean, yeah. He’s cute. He’s smart and super fucking badass. He has dimples when he smiles. Pretty adorable, if you ask me.”

Fabian feels a rush of anger again and he doesn’t know where it’s coming from. Whoever invented emotions should be hunted down for sport and shot.

“Well, I suppose, if you’re into stuff like that”, Fabian says. Ragh throws the ball at him, also a little harder than before.

“Yeah, stuff like that. Like guys, dude”, he says.

“Yeah. Like that. I wouldn’t know”, Fabian answers.

Ragh opens his mouth to say something but he seems to decide against it and shakes his head.

“Whatever, man. You’ll get there eventually”, Ragh says and Fabian has no idea what the fuck that is supposed to mean, but the next ball he throws flies wide.

Theo’s house is way smaller and less impressive than Fabian’s house—which is to be expected, but he still feels smug about it when the Bad Kids arrive at a red brick building with a garden full of sunflowers and a trampoline in the backyard that multiple people have already started using.

Loud music, laughter and voices spill out of the open windows and onto the street as Fig pushes the small garden gate open and saunters up to the front door to ring the bell.

“Damn, bro, you look sleek as fuck”, Ragh says to Fabian and hits him on the back with one his giants hands. Fabian manages not to stumble and grins. Ragh doesn’t have to know that Fabian took way longer than usual to get dressed because he is ready to get his kisses in tonight.

He doesn’t care about Theo or about the fact that The Ball secretly likes guys. He can like whoever he wants and it’s of no concern to Fabian. For all he knows The Ball can kiss half Elmville and Fabian wouldn’t care one single bit about it.

He keeps telling himself that as he follows the others into the house where people are already scattered in different rooms, many of them already drunk. There is a beerpong table set up in the living room where all other furniture has been pushed aside.

“Hey guys”, Theo says as soon as he spots them and Fabian refuses to notice the way he grins down at The Ball as if they were good friends. Which they are not. Since Riz already has a best friend and, in fact, an entire group of good friends, who are all here right now and of which Theo is definitely not a part.

Now that Fabian stands in front of him he can see that Theo is in fact taller than him, half elven, half orc with light green skin and pointy ears, dark hair and wearing a black muscle shirt which Fabian finds endlessly offensive.

“The guys were just talking about playing some old fashioned party games, do you guys wanna join?”, Theo asks and grabs some bottles of beer from a nearby table to hand them to Kristen, Riz and Gorgug. Fabian considers if it would be appropriate to deck Theo in the face because he didn’t offer Fabian a beer as well.

“I’ve never really played any party games. What kind of games?”, Adaine wants to know. She’s holding Boggy with a look of mild concern on her face.

“Oh, you know. Spin the bottle, truth or dare, that sort of stuff. Should be fun. Come on, I’ll introduce you!”, Theo proclaims and he throws an arm around Gorgug and waves all of them over to what seems to be a dining room that has been filled with a ton of pillows for people to sit on.

Fabian doesn’t really know any of the people sitting here—Fig and Gorgug on the other hand know some of them from Barbarian classes. It turns out that Theo also participates in Druid classes, which Fabians finds weird.

But he doesn’t have time to think too much about how much Theo sucks for various different reasons, because Ragh hollers excitedly, flings himself down on one of the pillows and pulls Fabian down with him.

“Fuck yeah, dude. This rules! Here, have a beer!”

Fabian has never played truth or dare before and he’s not particularly sure if he enjoys it. Adaine seems very on edge and picks truth every time, Fig on the other hand is delighted about giving people dares and picking dares herself. Kristen still has a hard time holding her liquor and insists on daring people to kiss each other. Then she starts crying because she misses Tracker.

Riz is biting his nails as he watches people play and sips on the one beer he’s had since the beginning. Fabian doesn’t actually want to look at him for more than a few seconds, but The Ball is sitting directly next to Theo who is sprawled on one of his dumb pillows and seems to have the time of his life watching two of his buddies stick their tongues down each other’s throats.

Someone dares Ragh to do a prank call on the vice principal and Ragh apologizes to Fig before he dials Gilear’s number to tell him that he won the lottery.

“Fabian, bro! I feel like I should make you kiss someone”, Ragh shouts after he’s done and throws an arm around Fabian’s shoulder. Fabian laughs and considers all the girls sitting in the circle to figure out which one he’d like to kiss the most.

“Make him kiss Riz”, Kristen calls and Fabian is confused for a second until what she said sinks in.

“Kiss Riz! Kiss Riz! Kiss Riz!”

Fabian’s eyes find The Ball’s face.

His big, yellow eyes have grown impossibly wide and he stopped biting on his nails only to start chewing on his bottom lip in a way that looks dangerous with those sharp teeth.

This is absurd. Fabian would never kiss The Ball.

“What?”, he says with a half laugh. “No!”

Fabian feels like this must be some kind of joke. He elbows Ragh in the ribs and says “Don’t be ridiculous.” and it takes him a few seconds to realize that the group of people around him has fallen silent.

“Riz?”, Adaine says quietly.

“I’ll be—uh. In the bathroom. Where the toilet is. To pee”, Riz stammers before fleeing out of the room as if the Nightmare King was chasing after him.

#fantasy high #fabriz #dimension 20 #d20alphabet21 #fanfiction #mi writes #i didnt proof read bc it's too late and also we die like men or whatever xD #fabian seacaster #fabian aramais seacaster #riz gukgak #i'll write part two as my prompt for tomorrow!

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

Can you do 60 for indruck, NSFW? Thank you so much! Love your work!

Here it is! I set it in the same world as this sternclay fill. Credit to @bellafarallones for playing in this space on discord. Apollo is from my Super hero AU

“All I’m sayin is it seems mighty unfair to me that one fella gets a handler-assistant type deal and the rest of us don’t.” Duck crosses his arms as Ned fiddles with the pen on his desk.

“You’re not wrong, dear boy, but Apollo was in high demand from the higher ups-”

“Because he’s a shallow dipshit with a mean streak who’ll be good for ratings?”

“Precisely. He demanded in his contract that we allow his twin to continue his work as his photographer and assistant. He has over a million followers on Instagram, so those photos will be a boost to the show. Just try to get along for the camera’s?”

“His brother ain’t even on camera.” Duck mutters.

“I meant with Apollo.”

Duck shrugs, defeated, “sure thing, Ned.”

As he walks back to the main house, he mulls over the fact that the twin (Indrid, he thinks that’s the guys name) bugs him more than Apollo does. Apollo is vain, mean, and selfish, but at least that gets him things, even makes sense for the kind of show they’re on. Indrid gains nothing by helping him out here. Except protection from the bully, which Duck finds to be the worst kind of cowardice. Hopefully Vincent, this season’s bachelor, will see through the “influencer” and send him packing ASAP.

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

Four weeks in, and this is exactly what Duck was worried about. Not only is Indrid hovering around his brother like a nervous moth (excet when cameras are near, at which point he ducks out of frame), he’s doing fucking nothing to reign him in.

A few frontrunners are starting to emerge, and with that claws are coming out. Barclay, a chef and all around nice guy, is the target of choice. Nico and Josh both took bites out of him this morning. But Apollo sunk his teeth in like a dog on a fox, calling him, among other things, a pathetic, six-foot puppy dog who no man would ever want. The cook left noticeably teary eyed. Duck was about to block the cameras from following when Joseph beat him to it. Which is weird, because he thought Joe couldn’t stand Barclay. Apollo flounces off, but Duck corners Indrid where he’s been stoically watching his brother be a raging asshole.

“What the fuck man?”

‘Wrong twin.” Indrid says flatly, indicating his silver hair, tied back in a half-bun. His dark roots are showing and his eyebrows are black, unlike Apollo’s immaculate blonde dye job and bleached brows.

“Nope, right one. You’re his handler, cant’ you fuckin intervene when he’s doin’ shit like that? Or are you just here to let him hurt whoever he feels like?”

Indrid fixes him with a bitter smile, “If there were a way to make my brother be kind or, indeed, see others as people, don’t you think I’d have found it and used it everyday since?”

“I-”

“You people have no idea how much I’m already doing. I kept him from going after you yesterday by reminding him he looks ugly when he yells on camera. And if nothing else console yourself with the fact you all have only to deal with him for a few months. Some of us have endured twenty-eight years of it.”

With that, he turns and stalks from the room. As he leaves, Duck can’t shake the thought that his black denim jacket and worn jeans fit him better than Apollo’s designer ones ever could.

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

Indrid understands why there’s so much alcohol on set, but he can’t partake (too bitter) and it makes Apollo even harder to handle than usual. Which is why Indrid is out on the grounds at ten p.m, intending to hide from his brother until dawn.

At six weeks in, fan favorites are getting more established and Indrid, needing to predict Apollo’s mood in order to do his job, is keeping a close eye on them. His twin is well-liked for being snarky and hot, though he suspects the large number of contestants means there have been limited chances for his unpleasant side to be showcased. Joseph is another, because of course he is, movie-star handsome with an interesting past. Barclay is beloved for the very things that the other contestants torment him for. And Duck? Duck is quickly becoming the one people think Vincent will choose.

Indrid thinks they’re right. He’s charming in an understated way, funny, and while Apollo needles him for his “dad bod,” Indrid and Vincent have both noticed the muscles in his arms. Who gives a damn about flat abs? Indrid would much rather have something soft to rest his head on while those green eyes look lovingly down at him. His crush on Duck is useless, persistent, and must be hidden from Apollo at all costs.

His foot catches something solid and he tumbles over the obstacle to land ass-first on the lawn.

“Ow.” He glares at the object. The object turns out to be Duck Newton, who's obviously drunk as he sits up.

“Sorry man, thought no one’d come out here. Oh it’s you, it's, uh, fuck, fuck c'mon” he snaps his fingers as he searches his thoughts, “It's cute Apollo!”

“Indrid.” Surely Duck didn’t mean to use that adjective. Right?

“No, I’m Duck?”

He snickers, “No, I meant I’m Indrid.”

“Ohhh, right. You're Indrid. I'm Duck. That's the big dipper” He points at the sky. Indrid follows the line and grins, delighted.”

“It is!”

“Uhhuh. C'mere, can show you more.” Duck pats the spot beside him and lays back. Indrid scoots closer and reclines as well, making appreciative sounds each time Duck shows him a constellation.

As they’re studying the sky, the other man whispers, “Can I tell you a secret? I, I think Joe’n Barclay are into each other now."

“The way they look at each other is not exactly subtle.”

‘“Heh, yeah.” he links his hands across his belly, “I think they're in love. You ever been in love?”

“No.” He sighs, not wanting to dwell on that pile of baggage, “You?”

“Nope. And, uh, don’t, don’t tell anyone but I don't think I am with Vincent. Maybe I could be? Does that make me a bad person? He's nice, think he likes me a lot but, I, I dunno.”

“Not being in love with someone doesn’t make you a bad person. No more than loving someone does.”

Indrid is hard to surprise; years of getting out ahead of his brother and father taught him how to see things coming. But nothing could prepare him for Duck rolling to hide his face against Indrid’s chest. Not knowing what else to do, he pats his back, notices a woodsy scent tingling his nose.

“You smell good.” He winces; that was too creepy, now Duck will pull the comforting bulk of his body away.

“Thanks. I bought a bunch of cologne when I realized I was actually going to be a contestant. News clothes too. Thought it would give me an edge but...I dunno, can't compete with a guy like your brother.”

“Join the club.” Indrid reaches up to toy with a lock of Duck’s black hair, expecting Duck to bat him away. Instead, he sighs and turns his head to give Indrid better access.

“You could compete with ‘im. You're cuter. Nicer too.”

“Oh. Ah. Thank you.”

Duck’s fidgets with the mothman pin on Indrid’s jacket, “You wanna cuddle?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“No one cuddles with me. And we ain’t allowed to cuddle Vincent yet.” He looks up, lips pouting just enough to be charming.

Indrid let’s a purr enter his voice, “That’s a shame. I’m happy to cuddle.”

Duck rolls more of his body onto Indrid, resolutely nestling his head under his chin and tangling their legs together. His hands stay on Indrid’s chest and shoulders, though he’s now drunkenly petting Indrid’s collarbone, making him shiver. He expends four months worth of daring in a second, wrapping his arms around the curves of Duck’s torso. When Duck’s fingers brush skin instead of shirt, Indrid whimpers, then bites his lip and prays it went unnoticed.

“You don’t get cuddled much either, do you?” Duck murmurs thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Damn shame, you’re real good at it. Can cuddle me any time.”

Indrid “mmhmms” knowing the promise is like the stars; bright and comforting in the darkness, but ultimately beyond his reach.

Three day later, he drops his guard; Apollo’s been on his good behavior since Vincent’s been spending more time with him. You’d think Indrid would learn by now that all his venom has to go somewhere.

He’s huddled down in the rec room trying not to cry; it’s pathetic enough that he let such childish insults get to him, but to cry over them would confirm everything his brother said.

“Indrid? You, uh, you okay?” Duck’s reflection in the darkened T.V approaches his own.

“I'm fine.” It’s the same inflection he’s used hundreds of times, but Duck sits down on the couch all the same.

“Do you, uh, need a hug?’

“No.” He replies a hair too quickly.

“Do you want one?”

“......Badly.”

Duck opens his arms and Indrid shifts on the cushions, doing his best to curl his long limbs so they’ll fit in his embrace. The shorter man notices, concern flashing on his face.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Okay. You, uh, wanna hear the most exciting news of the day?” He waits for Indrid to nod, “there was a cougar sightin’ in the foothills near here!”

“That is both very exciting and alarming.”

“Doubt it’d go after folks, they try to steer clear of people. We don’t have ‘em back home, but you learn what to do when you’re also learnin how to deal with bears.”

“How does one deal with a bear? Other than buying them a drink.”

Duck snorts, relaxes further into the couch, “Depends on how soon you see ‘em…”

They emerge two hours later, and Indrid is so engrossed in their conversation about hiking incidents that he runs smack into a camera man. While he’s apologizing profusely, Duck guffaws, steadies him, and leads him off in search of somewhere to watch the sunset.

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

“Oooh, ooh, look, sea lions!” Indrid points to the distant wharf.

“Good eye. Man, those fuckers are big. Glad none of ‘em were in the water when we did that fuckin cliff dive.”

“I for one would pay good money to see my brother chased by a sea lion.”

Duck chuckles, pops the tab on his WhiteClaw. They’re having dinner on the beach, a gourmet spread meant to encourage them to show off their pallets. Indrid took Barclay’s recommendation and ordered the whole, grilled snapper, which he assumed he’d be eating alone; Vincent’s attention has been on Duck ever since he went swimming this morning. Duck seems to be enjoying it, but come dinner time he demurred (“gotta let some of the other fellas have a chance”) and brought his basket of fried oysters over to join Indrid on the sand.

“Speakin of your brother, kinda surprised he didn't make any digs at this whole, uh, situation.” Duck gestures to the torso Indrid is currently aching to lick droplets of saltwater from. To subdue the craving, he licks salt from his fingers before replying.

“I, ah, the last time he tried to, I reminded him of all the pictures I have of him eating. He hates to be seen eating. Most of the time.” He tilts his head towards his twin, who’s chowing down next to Vincent without a care for the cameras. Indrid sets his hand on the warm sand, “I’ve been trying to, well, reign him in as you suggested. Or at least make him think twice about his choices.”

(Indrid omits the part where he’s most likely to risk it if Duck is the one with the target on his back).

Duck sets his hand down beside Indrid’s, brushes sand from the side of it with a calloused thumb, “Mighty good of you. But, uh, think I mighta read things wrong that day. You gotta handle him how you think best. Just, uh, just promise me you won’t sacrifice your own well-bein’ for my sake, or anyone else’s. We’re all grown-ass men; we can handle it.”

“I promise.” He lies.

The other man leans back on his hands, green eyes drifting across the waves. Indrid would gladly sit in silence the rest of the night, it’s so easy to be comfortable in the lull when it’s Duck filling the space beside him.

Eventually, the ranger murmurs, “It’s so fuckin breathtaking. The ocean, I mean. Maybe if you live on a coast you get used to it but man, it is somethin;.”

“More so than the forest?”

Duck smiles, “It’s like apples and oranges. Monongahela got its own charms; you’d have a blast takin pictures and drawin there, believe me. If, uh, if Apollo and I both make it to the final four, uh, maybe we could take a few hours durin’ my hometown visit and I could show you my favorite spot.

Indrid imagines the two of them beneath the trees, walking hand in hand.

“I’d like that.”

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

“You know you’re just a distraction, right?”

Indrid doesn’t look at his brother, just flips the page in his book, “I doubt that. You’ve said, often, that I’m too off-putting to be interesting.”

“Not when there’s competition for someone superior; Duck knows he might not win. You’re his back-up if he doesn’t, and a way to kill time until the end. Once Vincent sends him home, which he most definitely will, he’ll keep you around until something better comes along.”

“Don’t act like you know him.” Indrid hisses, looking up just in time to see something scurrying behind the triumph on Apollo’s face: fear.

So, his brother has a new weakness. He’ll tuck that away for later; this is shaping up to be an unpleasant conversation, but not one requiring quite that degree of weapon.

“You should thank me. If I weren’t so captivating, Vincent would spend all his time with Duck. Then you’d be without any attention at all. Even Duck’s taste isn’t that abysmal.” He grins his several thousand dollar smile, “he and Vincent are probably laughing about it right now.”

Indrid stands, crosses the tiny room, “Shut up, Apollo.”

Then he slams the door. There’s a yelp, followed by “you hit my nose, you pathetic excuse for a man, ow, open this door this instant I’m not done with you!”

He flicks the lock and sits back on the bed. There’s a tin of sensory putty on his nightstand and he opens it, playing with it between his fingers. Duck brought it for him after a museum date with Vincent. The image of him not only thinking of Indrid when he saw something, but then buying it for him just to see him smile makes him want to grin and hide his face in a pillow like a teenager who just got asked to prom.

But maybe this date is going differently.

Indrid squeezes the putty, repeats the mantra he’s had since he was a child, “Apollo always lies. Apollo always lies.”

Eventually, he’s calm enough to work on some tattoo commissions, is coloring away when there’s a knock on the door. A secret knock Duck invented as a goof. Throwing open the door reveals the shorter man wearing a suit jacket and an exhausted expression. Indrid gestures to the bed, shuts and locks the door as Duck slumps on the mattress and sets his head in his hands.

“Whelp, that was a shit-show.”

“What happened?” Indrid sits cross-legged beside him.

“Vincent went in for a kiss and I, uh, I turned him down. I mean, he took it well because he’s a sweet guy but I, I feel like shit.”

“There’s no shame in not wanting to kiss just yet.”

“That ain’t the problem. I, I wanna kiss someone on this set, but it ain’t him. Indrid” he looks up, green eyes watery, “Indrid, I think I’m fallin in love with you.”

“Oh. I, are you sure-”

“The whole night, and I mean the whole fuckin night, I was thinkin about you. Thought how nice the trip to the botanical gardens would be with you there to point out color combos and get excited about butterflies. Wanted to hold your hand over dinner. Fuck, when they brought out the dessert menu all I could think was how fun it’d be to order one of each thing to surprise you so you’d do that thing you do with your hands when you’re real excited.” Duck turns, sets his hands on Indrid’s shoulders, “‘Drid, if you don’t want this, I’ll back off but-”

Indrid cuts him off with a kiss, let’s strong arms pull him down to the bed and presses as close to Duck as he can, as if any space between them might be a way for the universe to push them apart.

“Than fuck” Duck pants, cupping his face, “wait, fuck, what do we do now? I can’t string poor Vincent on.”

“We’ll get them to let you out of your contract. It can’t be that hard, right?”

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

“Absolutely not” Ned shakes his head, “dropping out of the show is out of the question.”

“But that ain’t fair to any of us. Can we at least tell Vincent the truth?”

“No, it needs to look as if he naturally decided not to choose you. If not, we could be accused of manipulating results; the last time that happened, the ratings tanked for that season and the next. And my predecessor was fired.”

Duck looks at Indrid, “Guess I’ll just...pull back? That way Vincent won’t have a reason to choose me and’ll let me go soon.”

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

“Droppin out is outta the question, huh?” Duck mutters to Indrid as they watch Barclay and Joseph walk off holding hands, the host eagerly asking them questions as they go.

“I suppose he didn’t drop so much as sprint.” Indrid glances at the rose in Duck’s hand, “congratulations on making the final...well, final three now.”

“Thanks? Guess Apollo’s pretty happy about it too.”

“Yes, but his ego needs no stroking.” Indrid smiles, “maybe this means you’ll get to show me the woods?”

“I hope so. Huh. What are they gonna do with the rest of us when it’s not our turn for the hometown visit?”

The answer turns out to be: drag everyone to each hometown. Because they no longer have Joe’s trip to do, Ned decided they needed more scenes of the contestants exploring where their competitors came from.

Kepler is first, and tonight is the night Duck’s been dreading. His romantic, home-town date that everyone expects to end with at least some kissing. He manages to make it through dinner, even enjoys showing Vincent the down-town he spent years roaming. But as they start down the river walk for a romantic stroll, his heart is trying to smash its way out of his ribs.

“It’s alright, you know.” Vincent stops, guiding Duck to face him, “the fact you want to be with Indrid.”

“I, uh, fuck, I, I don’t not know, uh, fuck-” he closes his eyes, “how’d you know?”

“I’m more observant than I get credit for.” Vincent brushes his cheek, “I’ve had a hunch for weeks now, but I kept you around because I liked having you here, even if I suspected it wasn’t going to end with us together. I’m very fond of you, Duck. You deserve someone who makes you happy. I promise I’ll send you home this next rose ceremony”

“Christ” Duck chuckles, “you’re a hell of a guy too, Vince. I hope whoever you pick treats you right. I, uh, can I, should we…?”

Vincent plants a chaste kiss on his cheek, then smiles, “go get him.”

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

“Any twos?”

“No. Go fish.”

Apollo grumbles as he takes another card. Given Duck and Vincent are on their date, neither he nor Indrid is having a good night. Before Indrid can make his ask, his twin says, “How do you get people to like you?”

“Why do you care? You’ve made it this far, so obviously Vincent likes you a great deal”

“I don’t just mean him. I, I mean, I want him to like me. To want me. But I suspect he’d like me better if other people did.”

Indrid idly taps his cards, “I suggest you stop acting like our father.”

“I’m nothing like him!” Apollo squawks.

“Oh, but you are. Everything he taught us you still hold as true; you’re just the newest version of men like him. Self-absorbed. Cruel. Shallow. I’m amazed you’ve gotten this far with Vincent, given that the age difference means you’d be caring for him in his old age.”

“I, I can care for him. I will!”

“Apollo, I wouldn’t trust you to care for a potted plant.” He sets his cards down.

“At least I’m not a-”

“Ambitionless deviant who has to ride his brother’s coattails to survive?”

“Wha--how-”

“Like I said; you’re just like him. Down to your insults.” Indrid stands, “I’m going to bed. I suggest you do the same.”

His brother remains speechless--a rare state for him--as he closes the door and heads for his room. He doubts Duck will do anything on the date (hell, the two of them have only been able to steal some kisses now and then), but the whole charade has him feeling low.

There are far more cameras in the rented house than there were a few hours ago. Which means the rest of the crew is back. Does that also mean…

“Hey, sugar. I was just lookin for you.”

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

Duck’s glad his door is open, because otherwise Indrid would have smashed it to pieces dragging them both through it. He’d only gotten out the barest explanation before the taller man was kissing his face and tugging at his clothes, purring “mine” over and over again.

“Yep, all yours.” He shuts the door as Indrid mouths at his neck, “which also means you’re all mine.” He yanks Indrid’s black sweater up and over his head, sends the matching t-shirt after it a moment later. Indrid whines, fumbling with Duck’s dress shirt, and he gets an idea.

“Uh uh, only good boys who show me why they deserve it get to feel me up.”

Indrid groans into his shoulder, fisting the fabric of his jacket “What constitutes good behavior in this instance?”

“One sec, don’t go nowhere.” He starts to step past him, pauses to grips his chin and pull him into another kiss, “and no peekin.”

As he digs through his bag for the strap on he brought just in case, he keeps an eye on Indrid to be sure he’s following the directions. The taller man’s fingers twitch, but his head stays still. God, Duck is going to memorize the shape of each of the tattoos decorating his skin with his mouth.

“You did real good.” He slips around Indrid once more, resting his back on the wall. Indrid notices the new bulge in his pants and thuds to his knees.

“May I?”

“You better.”

Indrid undoes the button of his fly. Then he looks at Duck over the rim of his glasses as he takes the zipper between his teeth and pulls it down. When the black silicone of the strap breaks free, Indrid cocks his head as if unsure of his options. Duck doesn’t really have a plan--he just wants to be with him, to make him feel good and show him just what weeks of pent-up desire have done to him--but he’s starting to regret that choice.

Indrid flicks hair from his face and wraps his lips around the head of the cock experimentally. He hums, sucking on it a moment, then pulls back blushing, “This is going to sound strange but, ah, I, I really like that. It’s such a lovely texture on my tongue, it’s, it’s almost soothing to suck.”

“Guess you better keep suckin it then, huh?” Duck runs the fingers of his right hand through Indrid’s hair.

“Is that really alright? It can’t feel like much on your end.”

“Don’t mean it ain’t fun to watch. But, uh” he touches the edge of Indrid’s red glasses, “it okay if I take these off?”

Indrid nods and Duck slides them free, tucks them into his breast pocket for safekeeping as Indrid draws the cock into his mouth again. He focuses on the head at first, humming and moaning as it bumps his cheek. Then Duck sees him swallow and relax the muscles of his jaw as he presses closer. Little puffs of breath tickle Duck’s skin as Indrid gets most of the cock in his mouth, cheeks hollowing and head bobbing as he sucks. Hungry noises burlbe up his throat, and the more he lets himself go the messier he becomes, spit coating his lips and eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

“Okay, I lied.”

Brown eyes shoot him a disbelieving look.

“This ain’t fun. This is one of the hottest fuckin things I’ve ever seen.”

Indrid wiggles happily on his knees, left hand dropping to rubs his own cock through his jeans.

“Needy little thing, gotta have somethin down your throat and around your dick at the same time.”

“MMMhhmmm” Indrid purrs, the picture of filthy perfection.

“If, if you swallow the whole thing, I’ll let you finger-fuck me.”

Both hands fly to his thighs with an excited moan. Indrid’s brow crinkles with determination as he slowly, carefully brings his lips to the base of the toy. Duck groans out “good boy” and shoves his pants down, Indrid helping to drag them to his ankles. Indrid keeps his left hand on Duck’s hip while the right hovers below his folds. Duck takes it, the toy making the angle a bit awkward, and guides it against him.

“Start with one.”

Indrid nods, moans reverently as he obeys. Duck curses, looks down to find Indrid watching him attentively. Duck is going to wreck him. Then he’s going to cuddle him to sleep and wonder at the fact he got this lucky.

“You’re doin’ great, sugar. Promise I’ll tell you if you need to adjustOH, ohyeah” he lets his head rest against the chipped white of the door, “that’s the spot. Fuck it, add one more, Ahfuck, yeah, those artists fingers are fuckin perfect for this.”

Another purr and then a sharp, choked noise. Duck looks down, realizing he rolled his hips without meaning to. Before he can apologize, Indrid grips his thigh and shakes his head.

“You like that?”

“Mmhhmmm” Indrid traces a heart on his belly.

“You’ll pull off you need to?”

“Mhmmmm.” Indrid curls his fingers as his stretched lips manage to grin.

“Fuck!” Duck giggles, “okay, if my darlin wants his face fucked, that’s what he’ll get.” He keeps a hand on Indrid’s shoulder as he lets loose, grunts and curses mingling with the increasingly wet moans of his cock claiming Indrid’s throat. Soon he’s out of words, too busy with the sight of himself forcing Indrid’s lips apart as he tightens around his fingers. Handjobs are a toss-up for him most days; sometimes they work, other times he can’t cum from them at all. It turns out what makes it very easy to do so is-

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, sugar, yeah, right there, rightthererightthere ohfuckyeah.” He cums, jerking his hips hard enough to punch a new, high sound from Indrid’s throat. The other man pulls off, rests his cheek on Duck’s belly with shuddery, satisfied sighs.

“Y’know” Duck unbuttons his shirt from the bottom up so Indrid can more easily nuzzle the skin there, “I had this whole plan where I was gonna fuck you with this and then ride your face to cum.”

“I’m not opposed.” Indrid grins, bouncing a bit.

“Yeah, but I’ve only got one in me tonight. So” He tosses the shirt away, pulls off the harness as Indrid nibbles his hips, “if you wanna cum, you’re gonna have to do all the work.”

An edge enters his smile, “I can manage that.”

Duck hits the floor with a whump, Indrid trapping him on his back and climbing atop him, all the while kissing him with abandon.

“May I fuck you?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Condom?”

“Dop kit, bathroom, aw come back.”

“Patience, sweetheart” Indrid blows him a kiss, returns a few moments later doing an inelegant dance to kick his jeans and boxers away, “got one!”

“Good, now get back down here before I-AHfuck!” Indrid is on him and in him so fast it knocks his breath away.

“Before what? You’re not going anywhere, you’re mine, alllllll mine.” He drags kisses across Duck’s cheek, then bites his chapped lip as he looks down at him, “right?”

“You know it, nnng, fuck, that’s it sugar, be a good boy and cum for me. Fuck, darlin, wanted this so bad.” He locks his fingers into silver hair to keep Indrid in kissing distance as the other man whimpers, thrusts shallow and rabbity.

“Want you too, so much, I’ll be worth it, I swear, I’ll be good, I’ll, I’ll make you so happy.”

Duck rests their foreheads together, “You already do.”

There’s a high, gasping moan, almost like a chirp, and Indrid rides out his orgasm in drawn-out rolls of his hips. Then he collapses, laughing, on Duck’s chest.

“I, I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d get this. Someone wanting me. Choosing me.”

“I mean, I went on a T.V show to find love, so I know a little somethin about that fear. But I also know findin you is better than anythin I ever imagined.”

“Likewise.” Indrid nestles closer, one hand reaching out to hold Duck’s where it’s flopped on the rug.

“...You realize this means there’s a fifty-fifty chance your brother will win.”

Indrid shrugs, lifts his head to smile at Duck, “I leave that to Vincent. I already got my prize.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #bachelor au #meet ugly

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yandere-romanticaa · 4 years

Text

Not all that glitters is gold.

The library was filled with quiet chatter from various students as the gentle rays of sunlight illuminated the ancient books in front of you, giving them an even more mysterious aura. You were preparing yourself for an upcoming assigment and seeing that you were a new student and that you couldn't peform any sort of magic, headmaster Crowley made it his mission to help you adjust in this quirky academy. But to be frank, assigments were the last thing you wanted to do. The headmaster also often made you clean up various parts of the castle which was in itself very tiresome and if you add the stress from the classes you took, it was safe to say that all you really wanted was to nap and maybe have a snack. It also didn't help that Grimm bearly lifted a paw to help you too...

But still, even in a dire situation like this you did your absolute best to remain positive. There was no use in panicking. Tapping your fingers against the wodden table, you looked at the window and was met with your own complexion and only then did you realize just how messy you were. You hair was messy and all over the place, your clothes were slightly filthy and your face had seen better days. You sighed as you retuned your gaze back to your books, waiting for your so called partner to show up. Headmaster Crowley assigned you a partner to work with for the next few weeks and you figured that he was going to be at least a year ahead of you. A part of you was overjoyed by the news since you really could use the extra help. The other part though couldn't help but to feel slightly nervous as you had no clue just who in the world he could be. Headmaster Crowley said that he was a competent and brilliant student and that you shouldn't have too much trouble with him.

As if on cue, the large wooden doors to the library were open and the distinct sound of shoes clicking against the tile floor could be heard as at least half of the students there stopped with their activites to marvel at the one who entered.

Vil Schoenheit.

You heard about him before, he was a well known figure in not just Night Raven but in the entire Twisted Wonderland. He was known for his breathtaking beauty and intelligence and the entire student body couldn't help but admire him. Head tilted up proudly, he sauntered towards your table and before you knew it he was standing right in front of you. You finally got a good look at him as you realized just how utterly flawless he was.

"No need to stare dear, beauty isn't something so contagious."

You couldn't help but to blush a little by his statement as you slightly pouted and looked down, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"Before we even beging doing anything else may I ask, why do you look like that? When was the last time you took a bath, slept properly, hm?"

...Not even five minutes had past and this guy was already getting on your nerves. Your confidence grew back a little as you looked up at him, (e/c) eyed slightly narrowed in annoyance. His purple ones stared right back at you, his own distaste being put on display.

"Well? Aren't you going to answer me?"

You didn't have the patience for this.

He let out a sigh, closing his eyes in the process as he messaged his temples to calm himself down. He wordlessly sat in front of you, crossing his arms. Deep violet orbs stared back in to your own as neither one of you was willing to break eye contact. The air around you seemed to thicked as the perfume he wore started to invade your nostrils, the slightly flowery scent only causing you to furrow your brows even more. You two stayed like that for a few minutes, just studying each other in this thick silence. A few students who passed your table were weirded out by your behaviour but you paid no mind to them, and he seemed to be doing so as well. It felt like an eternity had passed until you finally decided to break the silence:

"Are we going to start working or what? We don't have all day."

"No, no we do not. But I absolutely refuse to work with someone who looks as filthy as you. At least take a shower!"

You couldn't help but to smirk a little knowing that you were getting to him. Being dirty was bothering you as well but he was just blowing this entire thing out of proportion.

"Don't you know that if you want to be the best you must look your best?!"

His teeth were gritted as his deep gaze seem to shot daggers in to your very soul but oddly enough he didn't intimidate you. A sudden wave of confidence washed over you as you found your voice once more, pure annoyance and determination lacing your voice.

"Vil, have you ever heard of the phrase "Not all that glitters is gold"? Looking good is not the be all and end all."

Your words stung the blond haired male as he continued to glare at you but no words came out of his mouth.

You two continued to bicker like this for the rest of the afternoon until the sun finally came down. The warm orange glow casted a shadown upon yours and Vil's table, only separating the two of you even more. You bearly got anything done that day and just before you could turn to leave, Vil's voice stopped you.

"Be back here tomorrow at the same time, and don't be late. Understood?"

You slammed the door shut, not giving him an answer.

♡♡♡

"Not all that glitters is gold."

Your words ran through Vil's head as he angrily paced around his room, checking his reflection every now and then. He couldn't believe that headmaster Crowley had partnered him up with someone like that, it was just disgraceful! His blood was boiling and it felt as though it was going to burst from the raw and sheer anger he was feeling at that moment. What made him even more mad was that he was still thinking about you. Why the Hell was he doing that?! He has better things to do anyway...!

♡♡♡

Hours turned in to days, and days turned in to weeks and you just could not seem to understand Vil. It bothered you greatly by just how arrogant he acted at times and his harshness towards you only made you dislike him even more. It also didn't help that he had such a strong presence in Night Raven so no matter where you went with Vil someone was bound to show up.

It was annoying.

Vil on the other hand pretty much never left your side and would pester you about literally everything you did. Your hair was too messy, that top didn't go with those pants, your back wasn't straight enough, your handwriting was poor, you were carrying the wrong book, you couldn't use any magic. It was getting to you, it honestly was. Just when you thought you could maybe get some time alone and gather your thoughts, Vil demanded that you eat lunch with him in order to keep and eye on you. He was driving you insane but it had become common for the two of you to fight, so much so that as a joke Rook even made a schedule. One Saturday morning though, Vil woke up in a rather bitter mood which was quite unusal for him. He did his usual morning routine, did his hair and make up, got dressed and took his books. Just as he was about to leave, the reality of the situation hit him like a truck.

It was Saturday.

You two didn't have to study together.

That thought should have brought him piece of mind but oddly enough, it didn't. His heartbeat quickened as a light sheen of sweat started to form on his forehead.

Why was he feeling like this?! He should be glad that he was no longer in your presence...! But he couldn't deny that at times, you were quite entertaining. Even if you were pretty much useless when it came to magic you were good with your words and just had this sort of charm that drew people in from time to time. When you bothered to get dressed nicely though, dare he say you looked absolutely stunning...

...What the Hell was wrong with him?!

♡♡♡

Exiting the Heartslabyul dorm, you continued to laugh as Grim, Deuce and Ace walked by your side, Grim pouting while the other two could not contain their laughter.

"You stupid raccoon, you burned that cake to a crisp! You should have seen Riddle's face, he was soooo pissed~!"

"How many times do I have to tell you explosion head, I'm not a raccoon!"

Vil was annoyed by the noise the three of you were causing but just when he was ready to give you all a piece of his mind, he saw you, smiling and laughing your heart out. He'd never seen you in such a cheery state, the closest thing he'd ever gotten from you that could resemble a smile but even then it was always a teasing one, meant to drive him up the wall. He soundlessly watched your little group up from the staircase, millions of diffirent thoughts running throught his troubled mind. You were so oblivious, weren't you? Did you really fail to notice just how much attention you were getting by simply smiling?

Just as about you were going to leave the main hallway, you stopped dead in your tracks an odd sense of fear filling your stomach. Your gut was screaming at you that something was wrong, that someone was watching you and your every move and whoever that someone was, they were damning your very soul to the deepest parts of Hell. You finally got the bright idea to look up and once you did, nothing could prepare you for the subtle but cold terror that was creeping upon you. Up the staircase stood Vil in all his glory, but his face was stern, his red lips pressed in a thin line but it were his eyes that unsettled you the most. You've never seen so much raw hatred directed towards someone and for the first time in a while, you were left speechless. You had no smartass comebacks this time, no sassy or cute jokes to fire back at the vain student. All you could do was stare and stay still in your place and just pray for him to just move, even if it was just his pinkie finger.

"Uh, hello, Earth to (y/n)?! You still with us??"

You were brought back down to Earth by your friends touch on your shoulder. The hand belonged to Deuce and when his hand came in to contact with your shoulder, Vil's expression hardened even more. You laughed nervously, just trying to brush of Vil and you continued to walk with your friends.

So that's how we're going to play, hm?

♡♡♡

No amount of preparation could prepare you for the horrors that awaited you on Monday morning. You were awoken by Rook who was given direct orders from Vil to bring you to the Pomfiore dormitory. Apparently, Vil made a little deal with the headmaster, and the headmaster approved. According to the arrangements, you could now sleep in the Pomfiore dormitory and you were to accompany Vil to all of his classes in order for you to better grasp certain subjects. The scariest part of everything though wasn't just this sudden change, but Vil's attitude towards you. If you two were in a crowd he was very nice to you, downright sweet even. In private though, his behavior would change and he would become a lot more controling and demanding. You could no longer be alone, it was a rule to be by Vil's side 24/7 and if you tried to break it Rook would just appear out of nowhere and deliver you to Vil.

His presence became overbearing as he demanded to be the one to dress you, wash your hair, do literally everything for you. You couldn't tell what was going on with him but something was surely wrong. His behaviour would shift so unexpectedly that you were never quite prepared for it. If you behaved well and did what he told you, Vil would spoil you with more undivided attention and gifts that most likely cost a fortune and then some. Some students even began to ship the two of you, cooing at Night Raven's "power couple". A lot of people were enchanted by the tale of the beauty Vil Schoenheit falling for a non magic user, but that person simply must be something special in order to catch his watchful eye.

You on the other hand felt like you could no longer breathe. Looking at your own reflection in the mirror, you bearly paid attention to the stunning purple dress that perfectly hugged your curves and the exquisite make up that Vil himself put on you.

You were a perfect doll, just like how Vil wanted you to be. He was going to break you, he was going to teach you a lesson about being oh so careless with his poor heart. And then he was going to mold you back together, in to the perfect little darling, worthy of being by his side.

♡♡♡

Tagging @poisonepel because I would love to hear your opinion on this! You are a Vil Schoenheit connoisseur, please, do tell if you think he'd be like this? And sorry if this was bad, I'm new for writing Vil!

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

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moonlightchildz · 5 years

Text

I want you; Jungkook

writer: moonlightchildz

date: 10/06/19

summary: since the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew that Jeon Jungkook was going to be the one to take away your virginity.

pairings: jungkook x reader

warnings: SMUT (there’s so much jungkook content), drug usage (weed), alcohol substance, etc.

Word count: 13k

“If you keep staring at him, you’re gonna end up drooling at this point.”

You tentatively raised your index and middle finger up to your lips out of reflex, and as your friend snickered to herself you flipped her off. There was no secret that the guy who had been recently added into your little group of friends had definitely caught your eye. From the moment he was introduced, you were hooked, lined, and had definitely sunk.

“I want you to meet the glue of the group,” you overhead Jimin say to someone. You weren’t sure who he was referring to since you were too busy packing up his shit into his moving boxes. That was supposed to be his job, but he received a phone call and immediately dipped, leaving you to continue all the work by yourself. Typical Park Jimin.

“And there she is in all her glory.”

You turned around, ready to yell at him when the man beside him caught your attention. Your words got caught in your throat at the sight of him cause holy fuck. Who was this beauty in front of you? And why were you just meeting him when you looked as if you had crawled out of Oscar’s trash can from Elmo’s Street?

“I can’t even talk to him, much less go up to him and talk to him about cars because I literally have no clue what a car even is at this rate,” you exaggerated as you threw your hands in the air in frustration. Your best friend just chuckled quietly to herself, her light eyes taking in the boy—no, excuse you—the man who had keenly grasped your attention. He was cute for sure, hot even. Truth be told, you were a hard catch. Guys threw themselves at you left and right, but you were so damn shy to ever respond back to their advances—at least, that’s what your best friend thought.

“So, are you gonna talk to him?”

“Listen, if I ever manage to talk to him, and if the gods from above help me get laid, then I’ll become the filthiest slut you want me to be.”

“You haven’t even had sex yet you talk like a slut.” She retorted, rolling her eyes at you.

“Leave my virgin ass alone.”

“So, you’re not gonna go talk to Jeongguk?” She kept pestering you and you just swatted her hand away to keep her from bothering you.

You sighed in discontent and then slowly shook your head to respond to her question. “No, he literally looks like a Greek god, and just seeing his face makes me drool. Also, whenever he stands so close to me I go into shut down mode and turn mute.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” A new voice spoke up behind the both of you. You felt your heart drop at the sound of the so familiar voice. In fact, you’ve dreamt of it and as you felt mortification quickly engulf your body from head to toe, you dared not to turn around since the pale look your best friend was spotting right now was a dead giveaway to who it was.

You slowly turned around and there he was in all his presence.

If humiliation was a color, you would be covered from head to toe since Jeon Jungkook was standing in front of you. He was watching you lose your shit on the inside and you felt like crawling inside the nearest trash can right about now.

“I’m Jeongguk by the way.” He flashed you an innocent, and a rather beautiful smile that made your cheeks warm up instantly.

“I know,” You awkwardly said, a small smile beginning to linger on your lips. God sure decided to take his time creating this fine ass man. Everything about him screamed untouchable and just drool worthy. Even in just a fitted black t-shirt and ripped jeans, he was absolutely delicious. His forearm was tattooed with Korean characters, and it had a small blue, water colored Smeraldo flower lacing around them so prettily. It was intricate, and it suited his bicep really well.

“All this time, I thought you hated me.” He shook his head in disbelief and what seemed like mere amusement. Your eyes widened at that thought.

“I—What?” you spluttered out in disbelief.

“Yeah, I really thought you didn’t fuck with me since you never really talked to me, or even bothered.”

“Yeah no,” you shook your head. “I’m just really shy.” With guys who have huge dicks, and look like you.

As he ran a hand through his hair, your eyes lingered on the rings that adorned his pretty and veiny hands. A few more artistic tattoos graced his skin, making him look a piece of art himself. How could he ever think that you could ever hate him?

Wow, could you choke me until oblivion with those hands?

“I was waiting for you to at least say hi since everyone adores you, you know? I wanted to see what the hype was and now I understand.” He continued casually and your heart almost gave out on you. “Though I appreciate you calling me, eh, what was it? A Greek god? Thank you, by the way.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled out, mortified at being caught since a cute guy was talking to you. “I’m Y/N by the way.”

“I know.” He smiled, and right then, you wanted to suck his dick. “And why are you sorry? It’s not an often occurrence I have to meet a pretty girl like you, much less be shy about it.”

And in that moment, you knew you were bound to be fucked.

*********

Jungkook stood by the entrance of the living room. He had already downed shots thanks to his new group of friends that had encouraged him to drink them. He was feeling a bit buzzed, and the excitement coursing through his system wasn’t really helping the poor guy.

“C’mon Jeon, as the new member of the group it’s required for you to be initiated.” Taehyung began, getting the rest of the six morons into it now. Jimin began to holler, agreeing with him since of course he would. Jimin would grab the stars for Kim Taehyung if he could.

“Shouldn’t initiation be before I get added into the group?” Jeongguk retorted, his eyes too busy looking for a certain someone. Every time the door would swing open, his eyes landed on whoever entered, but each time he was disappointed since it wasn’t who he was anticipated to see.

“Okay, you have a point,” Taehyung agreed, but there was a smirk already making its way on his lips so he knew this subject wasn’t over yet. “But you’re still the rookie and each member has gone through this so get going.”

He shoved the bottle of Fireball towards him, a shot of glass sliding his way before he could protest. Guess getting shitfaced was part of today’s agenda, too. Jeongguk simply rolled his eyes and allowed Taehyung to pour him a shot since he might as well enjoy the night drunk if the person he was waiting for wasn’t even going to show up as he was promised.

“Chug, chug, chug!”

Jeongguk just laughed as he watched Taehyung pour liquor into Jimin’s eager lips.

He was buzzed by the time you arrived and he hadn’t seen you walk into the kitchen until he turned around with a bottle in one hand and a blunt in the other.

“Jungkook,” you greeted him with a huge, and easy going smile. He almost dropped the blunt and bottle right there. You were showing so much skin to his surprise. His doe eyes struggled in not landing on your ass, your thighs, and hips, but the ripped shorts you were wearing was such a tease move on your part. The shirt barely covered your stomach and your hair seemed so pretty in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he returned, mimicking your smile automatically. “I’m surprised to see you here.” He really was, but he felt giddy now. He felt the after effects of the fireball kick in instantly by just looking at you.

“Oh, well I was dragged out by my dumb friends.” You told him, your hand slowly tucking your strands behind your ear as you looked at everywhere but him. He could tell you were nervous, and he wanted to scream since he wanted to get to know you, to get you to tell him everything about your goals and dreams, and to even hear you animatedly talk about your weird obsession over this kpop group called BT21.

“Ah, I see.”

His eyes lingered on your figure, knuckles turning white from gripping his glass. For fucks sakes, you were too fucking hot, and adorable for your own good.

“Are you gonna drink and smoke that by yourself?” you suddenly asked him, and he immediately shook his head, a sly grin making its way on his handsome face.

“Well, since you’re asking you wanna join me?”

There was a beat of silence followed by his abrupt question and he wanted to cry. You probably didn’t even drink, or much less smoke so he felt stupid in that moment, but you surprised him. With such ease, you just grabbed the blunt from his hand, twirling it around with your index and forefinger so carelessly. With your other hand, you motioned him closer and like a dog in a leash, he was already there, inhaling your addicting scent of flowers, and lavender laundry detergent.

“I say we smoke this later.” Your hot breath fanned his neck, making him swallow thickly at the sensation of having you so damn near him. “But,” you shyly graced your lips against his cheek as you turned to face him instead. “I think we deserve to enjoy this bottle first, no?”

His hand was already in yours, barely managing to nod along since your lips were inches away from his and it was just torture at this rate. He felt his fingers twitch as he softly answered, “Okay.”

It was as if you melted the tough exterior away from him each time he glanced into your eyes. He let you lead him through Seokjin and Namjoon’s mansion without batting an eye. It was crazy how comfortably you were being surrounded by six men, granted they were all gay for each other, but they drove him insane the majority of time. He wondered how you had so much patience overall.

You led him towards the mini patio upstairs.

It felt so ridiculous walking up so many stairs to just get to the designated floor where you, and the rest of the other four morons usually stayed the weekends when Namjoon and Seokjin often threw these grandiose parties. The top two floors were always off limits for everyone, everyone except Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Yoongi, and you. The top floor was strictly only for Namjoon and Seokjin and that was a rule everyone obeyed simply because no one wanted to deal with Kim Seokjin’s wrath.

“I’m guessing everyone in the group has their own rooms?” Jeongguk prompted, his curious eyes taking every single detail in with awe. “Seokjin and Joon gave me the one across the hall.” He pointed to the door that was down the hall from your room.

“Yeah,” you nervously began, your fingers gripping the door knob to your room. With a short breath, you manage to unlock your room and lead him into your room. “Um, when I got into the group they gave me this room and told me to go crazy with it.”

As ridiculous as that sounds, it’s accurate. All six morons you dearly loved and adored lived here with them and it was amazing how well they all got along, even when they were at each other’s throats. But now it seemed as if this house was going to be filled in by someone special really soon. You glanced over at Jeongguk, and smiled.

One thing you quickly took notice of Jeon Jungkook was that every time you smiled at him, he always responded the same way: his eyes would softly crinkle, nose slightly scrunched up, and that beautiful smile of his always made butterflies in your stomach roam free. The nerves that were overflowing your body soon turned into a buzz, a buzz that you happily welcomed with opened arms.

“Come,” you beckoned him, nails waving him into the balcony. He watched as you carelessly slipped off your shoes and ran a hand through your hair while you occupied yourself into accommodating something that was out of his eyesight.

Jeongguk took in a deep breath, and slowly approached your moving silhouette. There was a love seat placed against the brick wall that faced Namjoon’s backyard and on the other side of the balcony was a hammock with cushions and even a blanket. A sparkling waterfall led into their pool that seemed to be occupied by people there and even though the atmosphere seemed so chaotic, here alone together it felt at peace in that moment. He continued taking in everything that was you, and right there on his left side there along with a mini table that held a tray with two flavored kind of Swishers, was a jar that was filled halfway with weed.

You were literally a god send angel in his eyes.

“Take a seat,” your soft voice levitated his heart.

He easily complied and took a seat, eyes shamelessly landing on that sweet ass of yours while you were facing him away. You carelessly looked down at the mess going on downstairs, a grin already on your pretty face while you securely hugged the bottle to your chest. His doe eyes roamed the shape of your hips, your soft curves, and the pretty expressions you made while taking a swig from the bottle he had earlier. With screwed eyes, you coughed a bit and started walking towards where he was seated at.

“So tell me about yourself,” he began, taking you in again as if hadn’t blatantly stared at your ass this whole entire time. “We’ve known each other for a few weeks now, but I don’t really know much about you besides that you’re everyone’s favorite, and therapist apparently?”

“Yeah, okay,” you screwed your eyes shut as the alcohol slowly went down your throat. “Um, well, where do I begin? Gee, uh, I’m the only daughter of three kids, so I have overprotective brothers up my ass all the time. My parents have been together for more than 23 years, but they’re not married. My favorite color depends on my mood, and I love to eat a lot, like a lot Jeongguk.” You emphasized the last thing so seriously that it made him laugh a little.

He was taking in everything you said, his brain writing down notes since you were finally talking to him.

“Uhh, I love to draw but I can like only draw like stick people,” you continued, eyes bright and your smile endless. “And, I love to listen to music a lot. If I’m not eating, or trying to get my life together, then I’m either smoking, sleeping, or studying. As for the whole therapist thing, well yeah. That’s how we met. We all tended to go to the same therapist, and I would talk to them individually while we waited to be attended. I didn’t realize these six weird dudes were friends because I never saw them together until Jimin, Hobi, and Jinnie decided to simultaneously invite me to a cookout. I spent days trying to compromise with the three of them to see if I could hang out with two of them another day. It was so fucking stressful, but I ended up going with Jin. And imagine the surprise I got when I saw that all of them knew each other and conveniently tried inviting me to the same event. It was so chaotic, Jeonngguk.”

Jeongguk nodded, following along to every word you said and he felt at ease just watching you animatedly talk to him. You had these adorable mannerisms that made him smile like a love sick idiot and he wasn’t even aware of it in the moment. He just felt the need to be closer to you, but he hadn’t come to the conclusion as to how much and why.

“What about you?” You suddenly prompted him, handing him the bottle of liquor back. Your fingers gently graced his as you passed him the bottle and that movement alone made you jittery.

His dark eyes were trained on you as he slowly poured down liquor between his pinkish lips. That movement alone made his bicep bulge beneath the t-shirt he was wearing and you swallowed thickly.

Forgive me father for I will sin.

“I’m the second youngest out of my siblings,” he began roughly, snapping you out of your filthy imagination. “And my parents are married. I have a younger sister who drives me fucking nuts and we just moved here a month ago actually, so I really don’t know how I lucked out when meeting you and everyone else.”

You raised an eyebrow at that, “Really? You moved here a month ago and look at you know. Crashing in Namjoon and Seokjin’s mansion in less than a few weeks of meeting them.”

“Honestly, I’m as surprised as you are.”

“Not really,” you shook your head, eyeing him from head to toe quite shamelessly. By now the alcohol had gotten to your head and you seemed at ease with him. You were propped up against the palm of your hand as you practically talked without thinking now. “I can see why they love you, Jeongguk. You’re a sweetheart that everyone adores.”

His knee was pressed up against your thigh, hand inches away from yours. “Is that so?” He hummed out, an appreciative tone underlying in his voice.

“Yeah,” you reassured wholeheartedly without even hesitating. “You’ve become such an important part of the group in just a couple of weeks and that’s saying something. The guys are so picky and overprotective of each other, and you just fit in so well. It feels as if the group is complete now with you in it. Everyone from Jimin, to Tae, to Jin, to Namjoon, to Yoongi, and to Hobi has a special place, and you Jeon just happened to be the last puzzle piece to the set.”

“I can see why they love you,” he smiled fondly and your heart lurched against your chest. He was so beautiful. “You’re the glue of this big family.”

In return, you just smiled wider, carelessly even, but to Jeongguk seeing that smile meant everything.

There was a blur in time. Fingers softly and delicately traced skin, laughter echoed in the dim moonlight, and secrets were being whispered out in the open air. There was a point where you were leaning against him, his arm dangling around your shoulders as you laughed along to a story he was telling you about him and how he found Yoongi hiding in Hoseok’s closet after hanging out with him for hours. It felt so brief, so calming, and so natural. It was effortless.

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

You glanced up at him, and he seemed to be closer than you had imagine since his lips were just a few inches away from yours.

“Yeah,” you quietly said, finding it hard to concentrate. There was an urge inside of you to just lean in and close the gap, but something was holding you back. Was it maybe that he was more experienced than you in every way? For fuck’s sakes, you were a virgin without any clue of how flirting, or a relationship worked. You faltered, and he noticed.

“Wanna dance?” He opted out with upon seeing your reluctance.

“I don’t know how to,” you admitted to him, giggling in the end. Yep, you were definitely still a little buzzed, but it wasn’t due to the alcohol anymore. You could hardly maintain eye contact with him and here you were touching his biceps, and dragging your silver nails down his stomach so carelessly, unaware of the effect you had on him. Jeongguk had gotten under your skin so quickly, it left you so surprised and so affected by him. You knew that by the end of tonight, his name, his eyes, his endearing smile, and the will to ride the living fuck out of him was going to haunt you until you saw him again.

“I’ll teach you.”

He wasn’t pulling away yet and truth be told you didn’t want him to. Your smile was there as usual as you nodded and your fingers were already wrapping around the shot of vodka to down in your system. You were ready to down it all, but halfway through Jeongguk ripped away the shot of glass, letting some liquor spill on your lips.

With widened eyes, you glanced up at him in time to see him finish the rest of the contents inside.

“There’s some um,” he quietly began, nearing you again. “You have some vodka on your lips.” There’s a moment of hesitation between the two of you as his fingers gently trace your bottom lip where the strong liquid was dripping down to your chin.

With his thumb, he softly wiped away the liquor. His thumb ever so slowly brushed over your bottom lip, his dark eyes seeming lost as you stood still, barely managing to breathe properly.

His touch rendered you speechless since it was so brief, and gentle. Butterflies were practically roaming free, fluttering your heart awake at the simple, lingering effect of his touch.

“I expected you to swoon in and kiss me,” you suddenly blurted out without thinking. The funny thing was that you didn’t feel embarrassment, or any nerve wrecking feeling like you normally did when around him since by now you were sure that motherfucker had something for you as well.

His eyes widened at your bluntness and you watched in amusement how his mouth repeatedly opened and closed like a fish without water. He sat up suddenly, beginning to lean in, almost closing the gap between you both, but you slowly pulled away from him, your fingers gently cupping his chin to detain him. A teasing smile edged on your lips, toying with him now before you got up from the couch, leaving him empty handed. You heard a loud, heavy sigh emit from behind you and you turned around to see him already standing, hair lightly blowing with the breeze.

“Come dance with me,” you extended your hand out to him, fingers continuously wiggling out for him. “I love this song.” You pouted as he just stood there with his pretty bunny smile and overall prince charming self. Jeongguk however seemed to be caught in a dilemma with himself. He didn’t know whether to follow your games, or to just stop them right there with one simple solution. He knew he could be getting head without even moving a finger from other bitches, but as you neared him, hands automatically wandering up his arms, those thoughts were instantly wiped away. There was a reason everyone gravitated towards you. With just a smile, you made his heart begin to bloom for the first time in a really long ass time.

His scent engulfed you completely as you glanced up at him, probably looking at him as if you want to ride him until morning arrives, and then let him destroy you until he no longer wants to. Fuck. You wanted to be embraced by his warmth, feel his lips against your skin, and you were craving for it so much. Being near him was becoming intolerable, and it wasn’t necessarily because you wanted to run away from him, no, quite the opposite actually. As each second, minute, hour passed by alongside with him you discovered just how badly you wanted him all.

His hands wondered down your sides immediately, pulling you flush against his body without even thinking. A small yelp emitted from your lips at the sudden pull and turn of your body. Jeongguk felt his heart leap from his ass as soon as you accommodated yourself, your back pressed fully against his chest as you moved your hips so sensually it was torturing him so much. He hadn’t known you would get so touchy, much less bold. It didn’t help that he was itching to just bend you over his couch and just fuck you until the only thing you could remember was his name.

He seemed thrown off when you rested your head against his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck as you continued to sing along to the song that was playing in the background. You looked at ease, relaxed even. Is this how you were behind closed doors? An enigma? He hadn’t expect to feel this way. It was becoming too much now. He felt his dick harden underneath you, and you just kept on grinding your ass on him, a teasing grin on your lips.

“Fuck,” he cursed out, biting back the need to just do something to you at this point.

“What is it?” you turned around to face him, arms still wrapped around his neck. You were humming along to a pop song, pushing yourself against him even more. Your fingers were delicately running on his broad shoulders, your other hand twirling his damp hair.

“You really don’t know?”

You sluggishly shook your head, whispering, “Don’t know what?”

You were too drunk, you’d probably wouldn’t remember if he did say anything anyway. “Nothing,” he decided instead. “I’ll let you figure that out on your own when you’re sober.”

“I could go for a smoke right now,” you suddenly said ignoring what he just said. With a slender finger, you picked at the blunt that was sitting right beside his ear. “Join me?”

He would do anything for you at this point. You placed the blunt between your lips, handing him the lighter. “Light it baby,” you instructed and he was so taken back by you. You were this shy little thing at first sight, but alone with him you were anything but that.

He slowly wavered the lighter side to side, eyes slowly taking you in. Your eyes were closed as you inhaled as much as you could. Smoke emitted from your lips as you fluttered your eyes open and there he was, inches away from you, just looking at you in what seemed wonderment. Jeongguk tried not to near you, tried not be lured into your schemes as he was warned by others, but you were his temptation. A temptation that was rendering him to his knees and it was all because of a woman. He hadn’t know he had unconsciously neared you until he felt the smoke blow right at him.

Seconds. He was seconds away from ripping away the blunt from you, and just kissing you right there and then, but he opted out to grabbing the blunt from your lips instead. He figured if you were going to toy with him, he’ll make you wait.

“So when did you start to sm—”

“Guk?”

He halted, smoke emitting from his lips as he turned towards you. Did you just called him Guk?

Slowly, he neared you, eyes darker than before. His forehead bumped against yours, smoke engulfing the both of you.

“Say it again,” he roughly demanded, his other hand firmly grabbing your chin. “Say it.”

You didn’t. No, instead you pressed your mouth against his and it was so much fucking better. He dropped the blunt to cradle the side of your face, his lips molding against yours softly. You were already swinging a leg over his thighs, getting settled on his lap. Your arms already wrapping around his neck, tongue tracing the underside of his lower lip, and he moaned out at the feeling. Your fingers quickly tugged at his hair, body falling backwards since you knew he would wrap his arms around you and follow your movements, and that’s exactly what he did. His strong arms bulged underneath you, and you were so drunk for his kisses. You felt euphoric, a humming sensation was taking over you, and it was him who was the cause of all of it.

“More,” you panted out against his lips, tugging harder. He was everywhere. His hands, his lips, his soft moans echoing in your heightened sensations.

“You’re drunk.” He hotly murmured out against your swollen lips. “You’re kissing me because you’re drunk as fuck right now.”

Upon hearing that, you ripped yourself away from him, confused since you were anything but oblivious whenever it came to him for fuck’s sakes. “No,” you firmly began, inching closer to him again. Your fingers gripped on to his shirt, curling in it as you bumped foreheads with him, eyes fervently taking him in. “I’m kissing you because I want you, you fucking idiot.”

Jeongguk simply grinned.

His hand wandered up your bare side, nails digging into your skin. “Really?” He seemed in utter trance, doe eyes taking every single little pretty feature of yours in.

“Yes, you fucker,” you finally told him, eyes meeting his firmly. “Like a lot, to the point where I turn mute, but one thing for sure is that I want you, a lot.”

Okay, he decided, this was it for him. His hands were already pulling you towards him, mouth fervently on yours before he could let you continue speaking. Your hands were tugging at his hair, lips sucking swiftly his tongue as these little whining pants came out from you against his swollen mouth, bodies becoming increasingly hotter.

“If you continue doing that, I’m going to fuck you right here, y/n.”

Well, please say less.

“But our first time together is not gonna be with me and you crossfaded,” he stubbornly refused, and you childishly pouted. You both sat there on the old couch, his arms still wrapped around you as you shamelessly leaned your forehead against his shoulder.

“Can I at least take off your shirt?” you tried to resonate with him, a tiny grin lacing your lips.

He laughed against your mouth.

*********

The next day, you woke up with a smile slapped all over your face. The covers were all wrapped around your clothed body, hair matted and surprisingly your breath didn’t reek of death like you anticipated. It was late once you decided to crawl out of bed, but the rest of the household was still sound asleep since it was only ten in the morning. A smile lingered on your face once you walked out of your room and spotted Jeongguk’s room which was the one across from you. It was nerve wrecking to say that least. To have the Jeon Jungkook—the nationwide guy who was an incredibly, talented, and artistic tattooist— that everyone seemed to be thirsting had made you reassure him that you were into him last night.

His touch was magical in your enchanted heart. Seriously, one touch and you had been a goner. In your dreams, he was there, welcoming in you in his arms. Truth be told you wanted to be engulfed in his embrace, listen to him talk endlessly about his recent works, and feel his mouth on your skin. It was crazy really. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him, he had always been haunting you. And last night you had kissed him first, you had felt his hands roam your body, and you were giggling like crazy as he did so.

You had just changed into your spare clothes after a long, hot bath when you heard knocking on your door.

“Jiminie if it’s you, just barge in like you always do,” you called out from the patio, finding the cool October air refreshing against your skin. It was nearing towards five in the afternoon now, you figured the guys were already awake, but nervousness was a bitch. You hadn’t heard from Jeongguk and it was eating you alive. What if he realized he didn’t want the same as you? What if he realized what he wanted wasn’t you? You didn’t want to face reality yet so you just remained in your room, trying to find the will to go back to your home.

“It’s me.”

Those two words stunned you. It was him. Panic flared throughout your body as you realized what was bound to happen. You practically flew yourself all the way across the room you flung the door open because hell, might as well get this shit going.

“Did you mean it?” Was the first thing he blurted out of his mouth. He was leaning against your door frame, hair tousled and covering his eyes. The moment you saw him you could see his heart on his sleeve.

“Yes,” you quietly confessed to him, afraid to glance at him so you kept your gaze on everything but him. Jeongguk however didn’t find that reassuring. He caught you off guard with just two simple steps that he took closer to you. He was backing you into your room.

“I want you,” he softly professed to you, his voice firm.

“Okay,” you stood up straighter now since he was leaning closer to you now. Oh God. It’s really happening.

“So is it okay if I—” his hands were gentle as they framed your face carefully. There was a moment of hesitation that flickered in his heart, but as you glanced up at him with those eyes, with those eyes filled with anticipation and giddiness, he instantly just knew.

But you were already pulling him into the room, mouth on his as you breathed out, “Yeah.”

“Okay, good.” He kicked the door shut, hands still cradling your face while soft giggles emitted from your lips. He carefully neared you back to your barely made bed, ankles hitting the soft covers before you were thrown back against the heavenly cloud material.

Jeongguk was already there, hands roaming your body as he dipped down, his body resting against yours. “I was so nervous to come in here.” He admitted to you, and your eyes widened in bemusement. You were sure he could hear your heart beating erratically just by having him so close to you.

“Guk,” you began and he groaned out in pain. Panic began to creep up on you as you suddenly began to sit up, worried that you might have said something to piss him off already. “Guk, I—”

His mouth was on yours, distracting you completely. Every thought that seemed to be racing in your head flew out of your mind suddenly, your soaring heart completely taking over your senses now. He was kissing you like a deprived man, mouth messily missing yours before soaking your skin with his trailing, hot kisses that he left behind instead. You could feel your heart pounding against your chest at the sensations he was leaving in his wake. His fingers were tangled in your hair, keeping you angled to his will as his breath ghosted over your skin. Goosebumps arose along the way, and your mouth was slightly ajar, your mind blown away by this man’s touch. He clung on to you, lips marking every inch of your skin to his delight. And you relished on his touch since it was heavenly in your eyes, and heart.

“Guk,” a soft moan escaped your lips as his lips brushed your pulse, his dark gaze watching you completely surrender to him. You were at his mercy and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“I have to stop before—” he was breathing heavily, his hands tightening around you. He bumped foreheads with you, his lips barely brushing yours, but it was enough to dizzy your heart.

“Okay,” you slowly nodded, still in trance. He was beginning to pull away and that woke you up so quickly. “But first, I—”

You winded your arms around his neck, pulling down towards you again as you kissed him again. There was a split second where you gasped and his tongue was already tracing the underside of your bottom lip, slowly sucking your swollen lip as his fingers dug on to your skin. Your shirt rose halfway, the skimpy shorts that you were wearing were no help whatsoever to him since his hands were finding your skin, bruising you. His fingers fisted your clothing as these little whimpers began to fill your room and Jeongguk knew he was bound to lose control once you spread your legs wider for him.

There was no hesitation as he flipped you over on top of him now. A surprised gasp emitted from your lips as Jeongguk helped you spread your thighs for him. He had sat up now and had his back pressed against your headboard.

“Put your arms around me, y/n.”

Your eyes met his as your hands slowly wandered up his strong arms, appreciating his figure as you scooted closer to his body. Your chest was pressed against his and you were so incredibly close to him. Noses brushed each other’s, and you were about to close the gap since his swollen lips seemed lonely, but he detained you with three simple words.

“I want you,” he breathed out against your mouth and you nodded, eagerly agreeing with him. “But I want to take you out first.” His fingers were tucking the strands of your hair behind your ear, his fervent gaze managing to make these butterflies roam in your fluorescent heart.

Jeon Jungkook was utterly, and immensely beautiful.

“That sounds much better,” you agreed, smiling ear to ear now. He wanted to take you out on a date!

“The guys are up and they want to see us so we could go out to eat. That was the whole excuse to get me to you and now I don’t want to leave.”

You bumped your forehead with his, laughing softly at his confession. Fuck. He was the one.

*********

“We’re gonna go to this underground concert…”

You muted them out and just sighed. Jeongguk was busy at work and you were stuck with the six other idiots who acted as more like your brothers than your best friends.

“Hey, look who it is! My favorite person out of the group.” Jimin chirpily announced, eyes turning into slits when you all blatantly ignored him. Taehyung was working night shift so therefore his boyfriend was pissy since he wasn’t getting any attention, or affection.

“Kookie!”

At that, you whipped your head towards the front and spotted him walking in. Instantly, you lowered your legs from Hoseok’s lap and unconsciously began to run your fingers through your hair, trying to somewhat tame it before Jeongguk pranced in here looking like a piece of art himself. Yoongi glanced over at you, eyes squinting while you hastily tried to fix your appearance out of the blue.

And in all his glory, he strode into the living room where everyone was sprawled across the lush, plushy carpet. A red and black checkered flannel molded all over his body, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms where a couple of bracelets adorned his tatted sleeve. He was sucking on a lollipop, lips all red from the candy. His damp hair was pushed back with a black bandana, and he just absolutely screamed sex, power, fuck me please, and everything in between.

“Jungkookie, I’m so glad you’re here since I fucking can’t stand them anymore—”

You were busying yourself in sitting on the lonely couch, trying to dissimulate that you were waiting for his dumbass to already show up. When in reality, you couldn’t wait to be wrapped in his arms, to be peppered with kisses, and to feel his hands roam all over your body as soft pants emitted from his lips. So you did what anybody else did, you ignored his presence no matter how hard it was.

But Jeongguk definitely surprised you once you saw he was walking directly towards you. Your bitch face soon molded into that smile you always gave to him since he leaned forward against the couch, trapping you in as his lips tentatively met yours. When he felt you kissing him back, he felt relieve wash over him.

“Yeah, well I don’t think he considers you as his Jiminie,” Hoseok teased him, eyeing the both of you.

“You should have seen them last night,” Jin snorted. “He was practically sticking his tongue down her throat while they were making breakfast.”

To piss them off even more, you winded your arms around his neck, tongue tracing the underside of his bottom lip while he flipped you over the couch. A yelp escaped your lips, but nonetheless you settled between his legs, giggling away into his mouth while the others began to throw cushions at the both of you.

“Heteros,” Namjoon muttered out while shaking his head.

*********

“You have no idea just how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Jeongguk mumbled it out against the crook of your neck. His head was placed against your chest, his fingers absentmindedly playing with strands of your hair. Both of you laid on your bed, there was a food stand next to the both of you with finished eaten meals that were prepared by the both of you. Music played softly in the background and Jeongguk surprised you by singing along to one of your favorite songs “Stand Still” by Sabrina Claudio.

“Long week at work?”

“Something like that.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head, “No, I’m honestly okay now.”

“If you need to vent, then I’ll be here to listen, okay?” you tried reminding him since you hated seeing him down. It emotionally pained you seeing Jeongguk hurt, physically, or emotionally.

“There’s times where I wish we could just stay like this forever,” he absentmindedly told you, his eyes fluttering to a deep slumber.

“I’m sure we can,” you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his familiar scent of soft, laundry detergent, and love. “We can stay here as long as we can until you feel much better.”

But sadly the reality is that we have to go back to the real world at some point.

But as long as I have you in both worlds, I’ll be the happiest person on this planet.

*********

“Okay, but don’t be an idiot and actually don’t go through with it,” you told him, hand intertwined with his. “If you don’t, then you could seriously be missing out on a once in a lifetime thing!”

There was a convention that he was specifically invited as the guest of honor, but it was across the world. He would be leaving in a couple of days and you couldn’t lie to yourself and feel this pang in your heart. He would be leaving soon and wouldn’t return until a month later. A whole month without Jeon Jungkook.

He was quiet, doe eyes adoringly glancing over at you. “What would I do without you?’

“Hm, probably cry yourself to sleep to the thought of not having someone as perfect as me.”

“No wonder Jin loves you so much,” Jeongguk was already rolling his eyes before you even voiced out your sentence. During the past few months, the shy little thing he adored was replaced with a shithead who tended to either render him speechless with how much bullshit you managed to spew out, or how sweet and loving to death you would be with him. It was never the both with you. It was always one or the other.

“They warned me about you, you know?” He suddenly told you, catching you completely off guard. You came to a stop as you curiously awaited for him to continue. “They said I should keep away from you. That you weren’t going to be another “toy” of mine, and they were right. You’re so much more.”

“Guk,” you began, beginning to get teary eyed. This conversation should not be held in public, and much less after finding out that he was going to be leaving soon. He shook his head, his bunny smile beginning to appear now. He was already tugging you closer to him, hands framing your face gently.

“You mean so much to me, you know?” He confessed to you, and you were already nearing him. You were ready to tell him these three little words because you always acted on impulse whenever you were around him. Your heart always rationalized for you whenever it just came to him.

“And I don’t want you to lose interest when I leav—”

A scoff ripped out of your chest, immediately halting him halfway. There was no way in hell you would ever lose interest. For fuck’s sakes you had been practically in love with this dude ever since the first time he kissed you that night on your balcony.

“Jeongguk, don’t you dare finish that sentence.” You fumed out, actually pissed at him for deliberately thinking that. You stepped away from his hold. It was known that you two weren’t exactly exclusive, but there was no other man that could ever take a hold of your heart like Jeongguk had. His name had been imprinted in your heart and you were so fucked upon realizing this.

“I want you to know that while I’m away, I don’t want to—” he swallowed thickly, his hand reaching out towards you again. “I don’t want to see you with anyone else.” He practically gritted it out, momentarily looking away from you.

“Why would I ever do that?” you softly questioned him, honestly perplexed. Did he not see how utterly happy he made you? Was it not so fucking obvious?

“We’re not technically together, but I—”

Say it. You yearned to hear him say it. Unconsciously, you had neared him. You hadn’t realized you were just a few feet away, but there was this need for you to be close to him.

“I want to be with you. I’ve been wanting to be with you since the moment the guys introduced me to you, and you’re angry at me now, and I don’t know why, but y/n…I don’t want to leave this goddamn country without calling you mine.”

There it is.

Finally.

“Just fucking ask me, and I will be all yours.” You angrily blurted out without meaning to, but fuck dude. You would give this man the world if you could, just like you knew he would for you.

He seemed genuinely in shock. His doe eyes widened, mouth slightly agape before stammering out, “A-Are you serious right now?”

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips.

He was rambling now. “If I ask you right now to be my girlfriend, then will you—”

You were lunging at him, hands cupping his face as you shut him up with your mouth instead. This kiss was different. It was bruising, teeth clashed against each other, and Jeongguk had his arms winding around your waist as your legs began to wrap over his hips. There was cat calling from behind you, and you practically ripped yourself away from him.

“Okay, we’re in public,” you laughed against his mouth, slowly pulling away from him to continue what you were going to say. “But yes you idiot, I’ll be more than fucking happy to be your girlfriend. God damn it, it took you forever.”

“It’s been so fucking hard to keep my hands to myself, and at first I was okay, but now that you’re officially my girlfriend I’m dying to touch you.” He rasped out, his touch beginning to dizzy you once again. “I’ve been finding it so fucking hard…but then you look at me like that.”

You tilted your head, mouth slightly parting as you feigned innocence. “Like what?”

Except Jeongguk was always good in reading people and he already knew your true colors. Behind that little façade of innocence, there was something darker, and albeit sexy even. All he needed was to unleash it now. “Like you want to fuck the living brains out of me.” He was blunt and straightforward and you certainly didn’t mind it.

To his surprise though, you flushed. Your cheeks had begun to bloom in a rosy endearing pink, and it was quite cute honestly. “I guess I can’t quite mask my feelings, eh?” you rhetorically wondered out loud, a small smile laced on your pinkish lips.

The both of you walked into the alleyway of his apartment complex. There were a couple of steps before you actually reached his building, but by now you both stood in silence just looking at each other. You felt yourself growing shyer and a little bit vulnerable. In your defense though, who wouldn’t? Your boyfriend just told you he wanted you, and has been dying to touch you for as long as you had.

“If I kissed you right now,” he lowly began, slowly stepping towards you. You immediately whipped your head to the side to face him, looking surprised as ever. “Would you stop me?” He lowly asked you, eyes dark as ever.

God, was that even a question? Obviously not.

You allowed yourself to rest your back against the wall, head tilted slightly against it as you watched him slowly approach you. You hadn’t said a word, but the way your eyes took him in from head to toe, he had already gotten his answer.

His fingers tentatively graced your arms, finding it quite hard to advance when you were just watching him so expectantly. It felt as if you had already done this with many others and were used to being worshipped. You seemed almost unaffected, but as his fingers began to travel up your shoulders, dipping into the little crook of your shirt where your collarbones were located at, he saw a glimmer of anticipation come from you. Your eyes were fervently watching his movements and he seemed genuinely afraid to continue.

“Jungkook,” your voice sounded so sweet, so innocent. It practically made his cock twitch with anticipation. You seemed so innocent, so beautiful, and so dangerous. “Just fucking kiss me already you wimp.”

He pressed himself against you without hesitation. One of his hands gently traced his fingertips on your skin as he removed part of your hair back to grab you by the nape of your neck. A soft gasp escaped your lips, reeling him in as his other hand grabbed a hold of your hip. With one simple glance between the two of you, he pushed you further up against the wall as his lips met yours. His tongue was already slipping past your lips, tasting the lemon flavored lollipop from your mouth.

Tongues lashed out as you eagerly tried to take as much as you could since who knew what would happen next. He moaned against your mouth, slightly panting. You came to figure out that he was definitely an ass man. His hands had wondered down your ass, kneading it roughly as he pressed his bulge against your cunt.

He was messy too.

His lips sucked on your tongue, hands grabbing and pulling you closer to him so he could grind against you. At this point his hand gripped your thigh and hitched it over his hip, his lips beginning to wonder down the crook of your neck. He was leaving hot, wet open mouth kisses, his teeth softly grazing your skin, and it was driving you insane.

“Jeongguk,” you softly moaned out his name, and he was not having it. He wanted more than just a moan. He wanted you quivering underneath him, back arching as he fucked you until you couldn’t handle it anymore. He was becoming insatiable whenever it came down to you and he was deeply terrified in that moment. He could have any other person giving him head for free without him having to do anything, but he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted you on your knees with your pretty mouth sucking him off. If it wasn’t you at this point, he didn’t want it. And that’s when he realized how utterly fucked he was.

Your hands were already unbuckling his belt before he could utter a word out.

Fuck, you were ready to give this man everything.

“What are y—”

“You’re gonna have to be quiet, baby.”

You kissed him one last time before you sank down on your knees, hands gripping his cock gently. You were practically salivating at just looking at his cock. It was thick and long and everything you ever wanted. Jungkook bit down on his bottom lip, trying to stop himself from blowing right there when you hadn’t even put his dick in your mouth yet. In his defense, you were a really hot girl and he was clueless at this as you were. He hadn’t met a woman who could render him so easily without even trying.

He was already hard and leaking as you slowly began to pump him, eyes set and determined to give him the best head of his life.

“How about I give you a little taste of what could come if you’re sweet to me.”

Your lips were wrapping around the tip before he could answer, slowly sucking the tip of his cock in first. He bit down on his lip, teeth grinding against each other as you proceeded to take more of him in your mouth. Your tongue ran down his leaking cock, savoring his salty taste in your mouth, and you moaned out softly.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered out, hands fisting beside his thick thighs. His knuckles were turning so white and a little bit of blood trickled down his palm as these whiny, and whimpering moans slipped from your lips. You were enjoying this, and he wanted nothing then to just cum right there in your tight mouth. You slowly bobbed your head up and down, swirling and sucking the living soul out of him in the process.

“R-Right there,” he panted out, eyes screwed shut. He refrained himself from moving, but you were being so good to him it was fucking hard for him to not do anything.

You released him to suck your fingers into your mouth, trying to make them as slick as your underwear was right now. “Use me, baby. Do whatever you wanna do to me.”

His fingers tangled into your hair, his hips stuttering to a slight stop as you gagged around his cock, spit beginning to travel down your chin.

“M-More,” he cried out, spluttering over his sentences. “Ohgod, hmfuck, I.”

He came all over your mouth, and like the angel you were to him, you swallowed it all.

“Holy fuck,” he heaved out, his cheeks rosy and his golden skin layered with perspiration. He looked absolutely ravishing. Right there all you wanted was to be fucked properly. It didn’t matter where at this rate, all you wanted, no, needed was him. His fingers were still tangled in your hair as he tried to regain his breath.

“Where have you been all my life?”

“I could say the same thing,” you easily countered back, your heels digging into the pavement by now. Your knees were scraped up at this point and you felt sweat beginning to gather up since it was so fucking hot, but it was so worth it. He released you and helped you get up.

“Grab your things,” he suddenly told you, and when he realized you weren’t budging he added, “Can you please grab your things so I can fuck you already?”

“Well, when you put it so nicely,” you rolled your eyes and he chuckled at your cuteness.

The both of you stumbled into his apartment. Shoes were flung across the floor and your greedy hands were already placed at the bottom of his shirt, urging him to take the thing off so you could see him in his full glory. His shirt and shoes were gone as you latched on him, not giving him the proper chance to breathe since you wouldn’t stop kissing him, you were so addicted.

“Fuck, baby, wait. Are you sure?” He seemed nervous now and you found him more adorable now. He was so intimidating from afar, but now that you knew how much of a softy he was you smiled. Months before you couldn’t even utter out a word, but now all you wanted was for him to ruin you completely. You heard the stories, the fantasies, and his ego was there for a reason so he definitely knew what he was capable of. It reminded you of the first time you had dropped the bomb shell on him that you were still indeed in fact a virgin. He was in the middle of searching for a goddam condom.

“Oh, and before you fuck me you should know I’m a virgin.” You casually blurted it out and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, his hand stuck inside his pocket as his eyes landed on you in shock.

“W-What?” He stammered out, clearly taken back by your sudden outburst. “Shouldn’t you want someone who you love to—I don’t know, fuck you like they love you? Isn’t that what every girl wants? Or hopes for at least?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “If I wanted to wait for a prince charming then I would die a virgin, Jungkook.”

“I’ve never fucked a virgin before,” he admitted to you and at this you cocked an eyebrow. Now that was certainly news you didn’t expect to come from him. You were sure he had de-virginized at least one person in his lifetime, if you could call it that at least.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

No, you didn’t end up fucking. Which brings you back to now.

“I wouldn’t be standing in your apartment if I didn’t want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

His eyes widened at your words, but yet again you always seemed full of surprises.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He softly began, nearing you again. His hands engulfed your face, foreheads pressed together as he tried to gather his thoughts. His hands twitched to just touch you intimately, but now that he knew that you were practically untouched, he wanted to completely ruin you. He wanted to fuck you so good you’d never forget him, or his touch, or much less how he would have you quivering after blowing your back out.

“If you don’t want to, then that’s totally okay dude. I completely understand.” You tried to reassure him and you watched how his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, his eyes burning. He didn’t say anything, but soon enough his mouth was on yours and his hands were already sliding down your sides, squeezing and bruising your skin just how he learned you loved it.

“Y/N, I want you so bad.” Jungkook breathed out against your mouth, and you could see the inner turmoil going on in his eyes. “Fuck it.” He finally decided, his lips back on yours again. You were already wrapping your arms around his neck when he sent you stumbling backwards on to his couch.

“Bed?” He asked you, his fingers unbuckling his belt now. You swallowed thickly, insides going haywire since this was it, you were finally going to fulfill your promise. You were about to lose your virginity and it was with someone you knew you wanted, and even loved.

“Couch,” you decided, eyeing the comfortable sofa. You figured it shouldn’t be so formal with him so the couch it was.

He grabbed a hold of your hand and pulled you towards him. “I’ll be gentle, okay?” He promised you and you just felt your heart sigh in contentment for you.

He lowered you on to his couch, making sure you were placed comfortable on the pillow all while asking, “Are you okay? Is it too stiff? Are you sure you don’t want to wait? Do you want my bed instead? I promise it feels like a cloud.”

“No,” you answered to all of them.

“Okay then,” he cleared his throat. Then he changed, pupils dilating. “I’m going to make you cum until you can’t anymore.” That one shook you to the core.

A shaky breath left your lips upon hearing him say that, especially while looking like that. With his hair covering his eyes, lips swollen, and an aura of confidence.

“Oh baby,” he tsk to himself, a smirk beginning to lace his lips. “You’re gonna be in for a treat tonight.”

“Strip.” He simply told you, and you were so eager to obey him. Your hands immediately went for your top and soon enough you were flinging it somewhere, but before you unclipped your bra you suddenly halted.

“Lights on or off?” He asked, his backside facing you now. He was approaching the light switch, but drool was literally coming out of your lips as you watched in fascination how his muscles contracted with each movement he made.

“The real question is: can you fuck me with the lights off? Can I really trust you enough to not stick it inside the wrong hole?” You skeptically asked him and instead of seeming offended he just laughed. The lights turned off and you took in a deep breath as you unclipped your bra.

He stayed with his jeans on. They dipped lowly enough could see where his happy trail led on and the prominent v line that followed and hid inside his jeans. He looked incredible shirtless, and the tattoos that graced his skin did his beauty more justice. Every time you got the privilege to see Jeongguk naked was indeed welcome. His body was a temple that you would gladly worship until he allowed you.

“Oh fuck.” He inhaled sharply at the sight of you. You were only wearing underwear, and it wasn’t even lacy. It was cotton, but Jungkook noticed how fucking damp it was already. “You’re gonna kill me, baby.”

You shamelessly spread your legs wider for him. With Jeongguk, everything felt at ease, and as he approached you, you felt so safe with him. You came to trust this man so much that by now he had become second skin to you. Jeon Jungkook, the guy who came in and swept you off your feet in just a couple of months was about to rid of your purity. Excitement over came you as he began to crawl over your body, warm skin colliding with yours.

“You…” he dipped his body forward, bringing you down to the couch along with him. A playful smile curved his lips, his eyes on yours as he inched closer now. “drive me so fucking insane.”

The only lightning illuminating his apartment was the wall to wall window and you were both facing it since the couch was directly across from it, getting the view of the dark city below you. You were already wrapping your legs around him, trying to press him closer to you.

“I need you to spread your legs for me okay?”

Done. You easily complied to your boyfriend’s demands.

“You’re going to taste so sweet,” he rasped out against your skin, his hot breath fanning your sensitive skin. His long, wavy hair tickled your thighs as he tentatively dipped down, lips close to where you desperately needed him. He could hear your breathing pick up from that simple movement, but he was already half hard and he wasn’t going to hold back now. He’ll make sure you’ll come running back to his tongue, fingers, and soon his dick.

“Bon appetite,” he groaned out in pleasure, tongue swirling around your clit.

With the way you were laying down, with his hands running down your bare thighs, with his head between your legs, it was a sight to see. He tentatively ran his tongue down your slit, savoring your taste as he moaned in between your legs. His hand kneaded your ass before he brought you closer to his mouth, lapping all of your juices in that sinful tongue of his in one get go. Heat rushed straight to your cunt and all you could do was cry out softly at the new sensation.

“Remember, you can let go here, baby. Scream all you want.”

And then he dipped his tongue inside your tight hole, sucking and slurping like you did just an hour ago. Your hands instantly went down to his hair, feet digging into the couch as he pumped a long and slender finger. He was slowly easing it in, coating his fingers with your juices to spread it all over your cunt before he added another finger.

“Oh god,” you jerked suddenly, his fingers curling slightly. You were too lost in your senses that you hadn’t noticed he was watching you. His dark eyes took everything that was you in. How you drove your fingers into your own hair, matting it up as your feet became restless against the couch. The little cries that you made each time he forced his skilled fingers up to where your eyes rolled against the back of your head.

“S-Stop,” you were shoving him away and he immediately halted, lips pink and swollen. His chin was covered with your slick and you just shook your head in bewilderment.

“I want to feel you,” you panted out. “I’m on the pill.”

With urgency laced on your fingers, you brought him back up, mouth desperately trying to find his. And he of course followed you into your arms without hesitation. A sort of a whisper escaped his lips, breathing it out against your mouth, “You’re literally my angel sent from above.”

“Ditto, Guk.”

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He softly whispered it out against your mouth, and you couldn’t help it, you smiled widely despite your heart racing. His fingers softly caressed your side, they were roaming your body so delicately, as if afraid to bruise you unintentionally. His rings graced your skin as he gripped your thigh, slowly hitching it over his hip.

“Tell me if it hurts and I’ll immediately stop,” he began and you nodded, the butterflies beginning to flutter all over you. “Look at me.”

Your eyes glanced up to his, and he was there, mouth on yours already. Your hands instantly cupped his face, breathing heavy as he momentarily stopped to push himself into you. His tongue was caressing your bottom lip, sucking and moaning to your delight. A quiet gasp escaped your mouth as he slid inside you. There was a pause between the both of you. Jeongguk slightly pulled away from your lips, his eyes taking in your reactions with such worriedness.

“You okay there?” He whispered out, and you began to nod repeatedly. Your fingers were threading into his hair instead, keeping him close to you. Your breathing was soft, and erratic against his mouth.

“Yeah,” you breathlessly managed out, trying to reassure him. “I’m okay, I promise.”

“Okay, I’m going to,” he gritted out, his mind focusing on not trying to blow when he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet. He slowly bottomed down and rather carefully began to stretch you out. A soft whimper escaped your swollen lips, but you were taking him in so well.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praised you, lips on yours. “So, so good.”

Your fingers were digging into his arms, eyes fluttering to a close.

“You feel so good,” he grunted out, refraining himself from moving. His arms framed your face, hot pants hitting your lips softly.

“Thanks?” You stupidly blurted out without thinking and as you closed your eyes to hide from your sheer embarrassment, Jeongguk just looked at you amusingly. You could feel his body shake as he quietly laughed to himself.

“Tell me when to move,” he softly reminded you. “tell me what you want because I’m all yours.”

You took in a deep breath. “You can move, slowly please.”

He hitched your leg over his hip before he slowly slid out and gently thrusted back inside. Your hands were tightly gripping his biceps, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the discomfort at first but then Jungkook’s mouth was on your nipple, his tongue sucking and licking to his liking. His hands were gripping the sides of the pillow you were on top of, teeth grinding against each other as he struggled to hold back. You were too tight, too warm, and his veins protruded, arms bulging.

“Can I mark you?” he groaned out, lips releasing your nipple to look at you.

“You already left bruises you twat,” you reminded him and he shrugged. True.

He slowly pulled out, and as he slammed back inside your tight hole, he whimpered out against your skin. He found your mouth to distract him. You were kissing him equally as hard, swallowing his little cries of plea and desperation and that made you so fucking wet. He was this hot guy who looked as if he could fuck you into another universe and here he was whimpering, losing himself into you so desperately.

“Fuck,” you mewled out softly, fingers digging into his hot skin as he suddenly halted.

His face was buried in your neck, voice so rough from holding back. “Right there, baby?”

You nodded, your hands urgently trying to press him closer to you. They roamed the expanse of his back, gently tracing his hot skin as he slid inside you again. You could feel his thick cock pulse inside you and your cunt was clenching uncontrollably around him.

“Do you want me to fuck you harder now? Is that what my baby wants?” He purred out into your ear, his hand gripping your thigh so tightly you could feel your skin bruising.

“Yes,” you eagerly responded, eating up every syllable that dropped from those pretty pink lips of his. He slowly slid out and thrusted back, filling you up to the hilt. Your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted as mixtures of whimpers and moans slipped from your so innocent lips.

“Fuck, move Guk.”

He let out a thankful sigh as he shoved you further down the couch, hand pinning you by the wrists. “You’re gonna regret that soon.” He slammed into you, hips grinding on to your pubic bone, earning lewd, squelching sounds in return from you.

The sight was unreal. Jungkook was pounding into you to the point your legs had begun to shake. Your hands kept running down his body, admiring every dip and every muscle, and your kisses had turned into heavy pants as his mouth took over your body. He was so good at it that it made your cunt clench onto him, causing him to groan out against your skin. His movements had halted to a slow thrust as he dipped forward, his arms extending to be placed on either side of your face.

“How’re you feeling?” His arms were bulging, hands veiny, stomach clenching as he slowed down his movements to look at you. He was slowing down his movements to talk to you, but you were too focused on how his cock was filling you up each time he slid out and slammed back in with such brutal force that incoherent noises left your mouth as a response.

“S-So, good, ngh—I, I.”

You felt giddy from the way he was simply looking at you. Fuck, Jungkook stop before I fall in love even more with your dick, and you.

He ran his tongue up the side of your neck, licking a stripe of perspiration from your salty skin as you softly whimpered at the sensation. He was so good at everything. From the way his mouth sucked on your sensitive skin, to the way he was balls deep inside you now, and to the way his hands roamed your body, gripping and touching you until he was engraved in your mind. Every single movement he made, you could feel it and it was hot, so hot.

“Faster,” you panted out, and he complied. God, did he complied. “Kook,” you panted out, stopping him abruptly suddenly.

“What is it, baby?”

“Kiss me,” you incoherently demanded from him, your senses clouded by now. His easy going smile did wonders to your heart before he dipped down and kissed you like you wanted him to. His body molded with yours, his hot skin meeting yours as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to you than he already was. His strong, bulging arms easily lifted you up from the couch momentarily so he could wrap them entirely around your back, his hands gripping your shoulders now. His tongue languidly rolled over yours, tracing and sucking on your lips until you were panting and breathless. There was this burning need that was he so quickly approaching with each roll of his hips against yours.

“I—Jungkook, ngh—”

“Does my baby want to cum already?”

“Yes, yes, please.” You desperately begged, your mouth missing his as another lewd whimper slipped from your lips. “Please, please.” Your lips were all over his jaw, moans echoing in his living room.

He was so strong, so sweet, and so good at fucking you. You wanted more. He was becoming addicting as each minute with him passed and you prayed to your God that this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw of him. His tongue traced your lips, and as he spread your legs wider for him to he buried himself into you again, a needy whine escaped your lips. Your legs wrapped around his ass, urging him closer as your vision blurred and your nails dug into his skin. You cried out his name out in the air as your orgasm rippled throughout your body, engulfing you in bliss.

“You’re so good to me,” he rasped out, his voice laced with need and want. He slowed down, lips molding against yours while you whimpered against his mouth. Your fingers slowly threaded themselves into his damp hair, pants escaping.

“So, so good.” He praised, his voice sounding orgasmic to your ears. “Can my baby handle more?” He purred out against your ear, and you obviously managed out a soft yes.

As a response, you clenched around him and he let out a groan. His hands landed on your hips, suddenly flipping you over against the couch.

“Baby, I’m gonna need for you to bend your knees for me okay? Can my baby do that?”

Your arms shook as you happily complied and rolled over to bent forward now, your heart racing as you felt his hand run down your spine and sides. His finger traced your slit and you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the poor excuse of a moan to come out from your mouth. Your hands extended further on to the couch, gripping tightly as Jungkook slammed into you from behind without warning. He sent you forward from the force, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t stop since you were fucking screaming out his name, pleading him, “Harder, harder, har—”

His fingers tangling into your hair, gripping tightly as you as he fucked you so ruthlessly from behind. Words couldn’t even form anymore. All you were screaming by now was his name since that’s all your body could remember at this point.

Jungkook.

“I—I, Jungkook—”

You were utterly fucked.

It was so dirty, so messy, and it was exactly how you wanted it.

His ass was grinding straight balls deep into your ass, his hand roaming your body while he used the other as leverage so his muscled body wouldn’t be completely on you. Meanwhile you could barely hold yourself together. Your fingers had dug into the couch, your mouth directly pressed on the cushion as you tried to stop yourself from screaming so much. But you couldn’t. Not when he felt so good filling you up all the way you could barely breathe. His mouth was sucking so harshly on your skin, his thumb and index finger kneading your nipple. There were tears forming in your eyes as you felt yourself approaching another orgasm.

“More, more,” you cried out in a mantra as you arched your back to meet his sudden thrusts. His arm wrapped around your stomach, pressing himself closer to you. His broad chest was firmly pressed against your back, and you could feel his hand wedge between your slick thighs from your arousal. You lost yourself in his touch, not noticing the way Jungkook was glancing down at you as he abruptly kissed you, swallowing the moan from your lips.

“I love you—” you uttered out, breathless and completely wrecked.

“And I,” He pressed his thumb, drawing figure eights on your abused clit as he grinded his hips against your ass, his tongue running down your neck, sucking briefly. “And I love you.” He was doing so much to you and your brain could only handle so much, but you winded your arm around his neck, pressing him closer.

“I’m coming, I’m coming—” you practically screamed out as your knees buckled before you. He slammed into you one last time as your legs quivered uncontrollably. “Jungkook.” He fell forwards with you, his moans mixing with yours as your body shuddered, your legs quivering from the intensity of another orgasm.

“Fuck,” he breathlessly chuckled, hands beginning to remove strands of your damp hair away from your face. “Are you okay?” he cradled your face, seeming a bit worried since you were just lying there, breathing hard.

“No, you fucking moron.” You managed to mutter out, and he grinned. There you were. “Fuck, you’re too much Guk.” You slowly uttered it out between pants. Your heart was still racing and you couldn’t even feel your legs at this point.

He just laughed.

“You’re too hot for your own good, dude.”

“Thanks?” He seemed skeptic at accepting the compliment from you. “But on a serious note, did you really mean it?’

“What?” You smiled, beginning to accommodate yourself in his embrace. “That I love you?” You reminded him, and he slowly nodded, his hands cupping your chin so you could look at him in the eye.

He nodded, “Yeah.”

You didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

“Well, I just wanted you to know that I love you too,” he confessed and Jeongguk was ecstatic to see that love struck smile appear on your face, because now he was self-aware that it was only reserved for him. “And since I love you so much, you get no choice but to be stuck with me.”

You squinted your eyes at him as you removed his hands from your chin. “Is that another form of way of reassuring that I’m your girlfriend?” you prompted and the sheepish smile was your answer in return.

“In my defense, I fucked you until your next lifetime so I thought that could have helped course your decision whenever I asked.”

“So you waited after you fucked me to ask me to be your girlfriend again?” you concluded, wonderment laced in your voice. Before he answered you just sighed, “For now it’s a temporary no then.”

He pouted, and then a mischievous grin began to appear on his face. “But on another serious note, now that you’re not a virgin and you’re my girlfriend, and that the Gods from above helped you get laid, does that mean you’ll become the filthiest slut just for me?”

You remained silent, eyebrows furrowing at his stupid question. Filthiest slut? Just for him? Out of all the dumb shit he could say he decides to use this moment as a—and then you remembered.

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed, horrified. You tried shoving him away from you, but he just wrapped a hand around your wrist, keeping you pinned down against the couch. “You fucking heard everything didn’t you!”

Jeongguk just rolled over, arms wrapping around your body as he wholeheartedly laughed against your chest. “I’m still your Greek god, right?” He pouted once you smacked him in return. “I’m sure you’re no longer that mute you were before judging by how loudly you were screaming my name just ten minutes ago.”

“Jeon, you’re going to end up without a girlfriend before you even leave this country.”

“Okay,” he snickered to himself, pulling you flush against his body again since you managed to pull away from him. “I’ll shut up now, but come back here.”

Glaring at him, you crawled back into his arms. Jeongguk simply wrapped his arms around your body, kissing the side of your head as he more softly said, “I love you, you goof.”

You hummed in return, sleep beginning to engulf you at the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms.

“And I love you.” you concluded happily before he began to pepper you with kisses, his giggles and touch once again making you surrender to him.

#jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #BTS jungkook #jungkook x you #kpopsmut #bangtan smut #moonlightchildz #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #bts #bts smut #jungkook fluff #jimin smut #jin smut #taehyung smut #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #hoseok smut

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wincestisasincest · 3 years

Text

She Moves Me (John Lennon x Reader)

So I actually wrote this a while but forgot to post it. Kinda cheesy but oops.

What-up, y’all. I’m angry. And I just realized that I see a lot of fics where John comforts the reader when they are sad/lonely or stuff like that, but there really aren’t a lot of fics where he comforts the reader when they’re angry.

I am here to remedy that.

(Btw if you want to listen to the songs they’re all Muddy Waters, individually called “Just Make Love to Me,” “Mannish Boy,” and “She Moves Me.”

Description: You are big angry and John, resident constant aggro, actually has a useful solution.

Words: 1,599

Pairings: John Lennon x reader

Warnings: Umm nothing bad but the lyrics to the songs tend to be a little bit racy. Oh and also swearing

You slammed the door behind you and slumped down against it. You could feel your face beginning to flush and your fists balling.

Your chest was rising.

You didn’t want John to see you like this. Sure, you wanted comfort, but you also wanted privacy. And worse, you were a girl. John thought that you were cute when you were angry, with your face contorted into some fiery expression like you were about to give someone hell, despite the fact that you normally couldn’t hurt a fly.

But right now you didn’t wanna be cute. You wanted to be angry.

“Tryna break the door, are ye?” John’s voice called from the kitchen you shared. He was probably pensively reading a book and sipping tea with his thick, blocky glasses on, as he usually was when you came home from work.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m about to go out.” It took all of your effort not to snap at him. You didn’t have time for banter. You didn’t want to see anyone.

But it was too late. He could hear it in your voice.

You unloaded your bag on the counter. Really, you didn’t even know why you had bothered coming home. You wanted to go out. And maybe kick something.

“Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” He was lingering in the doorway now, watching you holding yourself back from throwing a tantrum.

His expression was a characteristic smile. You didn’t need to look, you just knew it was there. You were afraid to look up and ruin it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“You said that in a snappy voice.”

“It’s not you,” you were still looking at your feet, “It’s just been a fuckin’ long day.” You released a deep breath, which slowly turned into a sigh.

“Shit. Must’ve been.” The floorboards creaked, and you could tell that he was moving closer to you.

“I just,” you staggered back a little bit, “it takes absolutely nothing to not be an asshole! Nothing at all! And that’s just so hard to get for some people.”

“Dare I ask what happened?”

You finally managed a look up. Your matted hair was falling in your face, and it gave you an almost terrifying appearance. John seemed even a little bit taken aback. You never had a particularly threatening appearance, but damn if you didn’t get very close there.

He returned to the smile again.

“Don’t say it.” You muttered.

“Say what?” He asked coyly.

“You know damn well.”

“I can’t help it. If you already look cute all the time, it’s only natural that you look cute when you’re angry.” He crossed his arms.

“Goddamnit, John.” Your face spread into a small smile, but you were still absolutely flushed with red.

There was a small silence as you brushed your hair back into place. Your fists were still balled. You still wanted to punch something. Maybe John could join you. He was good at getting into fights.

You gave him a side glance.

“Wanna go start a fight?”

“What?!” He chortled. He was grinning, but still caught off guard.

“I need to punch something.”

“Temper, temper. What would your mother say?” He tutted and sat on the arm of the couch.

You wanted to say something back, but you were still fuming. You hated it when he condescended to you, though you knew he meant nothing by it. He was trying to cheer you up.

You breathed in stiffly, still having no reply. You could feel your eyes beginning to water. You felt like a child throwing a temper tantrum.

“Hold on, lemme get something.” He got up from the couch and began to rattle around in the makeshift box of records that you kept just next to the record player.

Of course, given John’s hobbies, it was absolutely stacked, but you had added a fair amount of your own to the stack. Though, that’s not what he was reaching for.

The record he held was dark in color, though you couldn’t quite make out what was on the cover.

“John, what in the-”

“I used to do this shit all the time whenever I got pissed but me fists were too tired.”

“So never?”

He put the needle on the record and you immediately recognized the sound. The scratchy blues tones of Muddy Waters, one of his favorite artists, began to fill the small room, launching into the first number.

I don’t want you to

Be no slave

His voice was something else.

“Come ‘ed, come ‘ed.” John pulled you forward by your hands, though you refused to break apart your fists.

I don’t want you to

Wake all day

Normally, you would’ve had some witty question, but you just looked at him, your face in the pits of confusion.

“Well?” Crap. You didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.

“Hear me out. Try singing to it.”

I don’t want you

To be true

“What? John, I-”

“Come, on, I know you know the words.” He wouldn’t show it, but this sly grin was his way of pleading.

I just want to make

He seemed convinced. You relented.

“Love to you.” You sang in unison with the record, very softly.

The guitar kicked in. Your feet began to sway. You looked at John, who’s eyes were closed for the briefest moment as he took in the music.

“A little louder, yeah?” He cocked his head to you.

“I’d rather not make your ears bleed.”

“It’s not about sounding good, pet.” He was a little more sage than usual.

“I don’t want you to wash my clothes.” You were a little louder this time, though you could already feel your throat beginning to burn.

“I don’t want you to keep our home.” A little louder.

“I don’t want your money too.” Your voice scratched a little bit in the back. You had a fair amount of rasp as you hit the high note.

“I just wanna make love to you, baby” You pointed at John cheekily.

Now, the guitar really began to show itself, crackling all over the rhythm. It was energetic, and you could feel your feet moving along with it, but more than that, it was visceral and raw.

You could feel yourself ready for the next verse. John was tapping his foot and muttering along the lyrics.

“I don’t want you to cook my bread.” You had fully committed to loudly yelling one of your favorite blues songs.

“I don’t want you to make my bed.”

“I don’t want you because I’m sad and blue!” You hopped lightly, like you were performing on stage.

“I just want to make love to you.” You pointed at John like you were aiming a gun.

The guitar kicked in again, and this time you swung your feet jovially. You were a good dancer, at the very least. You moved your arms in rhythm, and pulled John into the heat with you.

It wasn’t a great dance, nor a nice dance, but damn if it didn’t get all your energy out.

The song faded away, but you smiled. You knew what was coming next.

The guitar wailed. You hummed along with it. It wailed again. You were in the trance.

Then the rhythm thumped into place.

“Now when I was a young boy! At the age of five!” This song was great to yell along too.

The riff thumped again. There was an external harmonica source. John was next to you, his harmonica in hand, playing along, watching you with excitement. You continued to yell the lyrics.

Slowly, you made your way through the song, loudly declaring to whoever would listen that you were a man. You and John in the center of the room shouting, with him occasionally turning back to his harmonica. What a pair you made.

You’d forgotten that you were even angry by the end of the song.

You could feel sweat coming down your face. You clung onto John, giving him a half hug and half grasp for stability.

The guitar announced the entrance of the next song. You were about to pull away but John’s arms tugged you a little closer. He placed his loosely around your waist. You caught on and landed yours on his neck, still holding tight on his chest.

She moves me, man

Honey, and I don’t see how it’s done

You gently whispered the lyrics along, while John remained silent, resting his head on top of yours as you gently danced. This song was a lot slower, but still quite bluesy.

You gently swayed, both content.

She moves me, man

Honey and I don’t see how it’s done

She got a pocket full of money

Little doll don’t try to help me, though

“John?” Your face was still planted squarely in his chest. He smelled like sweat, but you could imagine that you did too.

“Hm?”

“I feel better now.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled, “That used to help me a lot.”

“But you did it by yourself?” You looked up from his chest for a little bit. He was thinking.

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Well, you won’t ever again.” You promised, before collapsing back into his chest again and pulling yourself even closer.

He was silent. You’d caught him off guard.

“You neither, (y/n).” He said at last, before pulling you closer. And there you stayed for a while, as the song drifted on.

She shook her finger in a blind man’s face

“Once blind but now I see”

She moves me man

#the beatles #beatles #the beatles x reader #beatles x reader #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #classic rock #60s #john lennon imagine #the beatles imagine

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asian-hero · 4 years

Note

Hi! “I can't pretend anymore!” + “That sounds a lot like ‘goodbye.’” for Todoroki Shouto please! also, may I have a link to ur masterlist? (○ﾟεﾟ○)

A/N: Debating on whether or not I want to write a second part to this (Pro Hero!AU)

The next request I have is more fun and sweet, I promise

p.s. here’s a link to my masterlist (my bnha section is embarrassingly small, please send in some more requests!)

“I can’t pretend anymore!” + “That sounds a lot like a ‘goodbye.’” from this prompt list (feel free to send in a sentence(s) and a character)

Part two of this fic is available here: Despite the Fights, I Still Love You

Summary: You knew what you were getting into when you decided to date a pro hero, all of the secrecy, the late nights waiting up for Shouto to get home. Despite this, you couldn’t help the anger forming whenever he’d miss yet another date night, the nausea you felt when you saw him fighting a tough battle, or the wave of jealousy that came whenever you saw hundreds of fans online talk about how “good” with whoever he was working with. So, you had to ask yourself: is it even worth it anymore?

Words: 1,951

In all honesty, you should’ve known that dating Shouto would be tough, he was a pro hero after all. So, you felt as though you should be a bit more understanding when it came to certain things, like not telling people that you two were dating, in fear that you’d be used as a pawn for the villains one day, or whenever you had to rush to the hospital because he pushed himself too hard, the fear gripping your heart as you prayed that he wouldn’t be dead. However, it was hard to be so understanding when it came to being stood up, once again, in your own damn home, which was currently where you were now.

It was your four year anniversary with Shouto, and you wanted to surprise him with a stay-at-home date, since neither of you liked to go outside anyway. You had texted him earlier, making him promise that he’d be home tonight, but gave no further instructions after that. For the past few months, you’ve felt that you relationship with the man had been at a sort of stand-still, or perhaps it was declining, you weren’t really sure. It seemed as though every time the two of you could finally be alone, Shouto was called in for work. Whether it be due to a villain outbreak, a rescue mission, or just to give a surprise lecture at U.A., you two just never seemed to have the time for each other anymore. It also didn’t help that, whenever he’d come back home, he either rushing off to bed to sleep, or you were already passed out on the couch, waiting for him. Sometimes, a small voice in your head was telling you that he just didn’t care anymore, that you two feel into some sort of lull, where he knew you’d always be there, so there was no need to try anymore. Of course, you’d push those thoughts back, feeling guilty that you’d even think that way. The man was busy, there was no way he could possibly be in two places at once.

So, you decided to change things, starting with your anniversary dinner. Tonight, you two would finally get to relax together and have an actual conversation. You truly did go all out, setting the table to resemble some fancy restaurant, lighting candles to set the mood, and even going out of your way to buy some roses from a cute little flower shop not too far away from you. Unsurprisingly, you decided to make soba, hoping that the dish would make your boyfriend smile, something you hadn’t seen in a while.

Once you had everything all set up, you rushed off to your shared bedroom to finish getting ready. Taking off your normal loungewear, you slipped into a nice pair of pants and a simple top, not wanting to be too dressed up, but not too underdressed. Checking yourself over in the mirror, you let out a deep breath, one that you didn’t know you’d been holding in.

Exiting your room, you decided to sit down at the table, a content smile resting upon your lips. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited. Quite honestly, you were looking forward to ogling your handsome boyfriend while the two of you ate, since God knows how long it’d been since you’ve been able to do that. Also, to be a bit more sappy, you were just elated that Shouto had found the time to come home early and eat a proper meal with you. Though you didn’t want to admit it, you often found yourself worried about him, not only because the line of work he was in, but also because you were worried that he wasn’t taking proper care of himself. You could tell that, every night he came home and passed out, that he wasn’t getting enough rest, and, perhaps your eyes had deceived you, but one early morning, around three, you were almost certain you saw him just pound down a packet of espresso. Not mix it with boiling water, no, but just eating straight up powder. So in your mind, you felt justified in your worries about his eating habits.

Fidgeting with your hands, you looked up at the clock. He was currently ten minutes late. You didn’t worry too much about that, since you knew that Shouto was probably finishing up some last minute paperwork. After all, he did promise that he’d be here tonight.

However, ten minutes soon turned into twenty, and then twenty turned into an hour, then another hour, and another, until the man was three hours late. To say that you were upset would be an understatement: you were angry. This was the fifth time the man blew you off, and those little voices of doubt were starting to come back. Your patience was running thin, and you could only be understanding for so long.

Deciding to wait just a bit longer, you slumped back into your chair, pulling out your phone to do a bit of mindless scrolling through social media. Unfortunately for you, this was probably the worst decision you could’ve made for yourself. As soon as you opened your app, you were bombarded with pictures of “Pro Hero: Shouto” with a trainee at his agency who was just a bit too close for comfort. Normally, you weren’t the type to get jealous, as you were used to seeing him be fawned over by thousands of girls and boys, but, the way that he was smiling with her, that was what threw you off.

You hadn’t seen him look so happy in months. Seeing that, some girl could get him to smile like that, but you couldn’t, it wore off the last of your seemingly endless patience. Looking at the comments underneath the photo didn’t help either. Most of them were about how “cute” they would look together, wondering if she’s his secret “girlfriend.” It pissed you off. You were no longer angry, but instead full of seething rage and jealousy.

Rather than hurting what was left of your pride, you stood up, nearly knocking down the chair with how aggressive you were, and began to pack up your dinner. Rummaging through your drawers, you took a Tupperware dish and carelessly tossed the soba in, slamming the lid down once you were done. Afterwards, you started blowing out the candles, which, wasn’t that big of a task, since most of them fizzled out on their own.

In your own silent fit of rage, you didn’t notice the door opening, revealing your irritatingly attractive boyfriend. Hearing the slams of the cabinets, he winced slightly. Walking towards the kitchen, he peeked his head in, curiosity overtaking his tiredness.

“(Y/N)?”

Now, Shouto wasn’t really fearful of anything, as he’d pretty much seen everything in his line of work. But, when you whipped your head around so fast that he was sure you’d given yourself whiplash, he felt terrified. Not because he was afraid you’d do anything, but because he’d never seen you look so angry and, heartbroken.

“(Y/N),” He repeated, slowly walking towards you, “Are you—“

“Don’t you dare ask me if I’m okay.”

He stopped in his tracks, unsure of what his next move should be. It probably wasn’t in his best interest if he continued to move towards you, as you looked ready to tear his head off his body, which he had no doubt you could. But he also didn’t want to just stand there and look like a moron, though, it was his current and only plan of action. You didn’t seem to appreciate his silence, as your eyes seemed to glow with frustration.

Was it a bad time to admit how radiant he thought you looked?

“I can’t pretend anymore!” You yelled, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation.

He blinked, not quite processing things. “Pretend..?”

You pointed a finger at the man, stalking up to him. “I can’t keep pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not!”

Before he could interject, you poked his chest with your index finger, “No! You listen to me now, I’ve given you plenty of opportunities to talk to me.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be with you? I’d like to think that I’m a fairly considerate person, but you’re pushing me past my own perceptions of patience! These past few months you’ve barely said anything to me! The best I get is a ‘good morning,’ or ‘sorry, I’m too tired.’

“For the first few weeks, I could handle it. I knew you probably needed your space, so I did my best to give it to you. But weeks started turning into months, Shouto. Did you ever think of how your shitty distancing would impact me?”

You could see the annoyance welling up in his eyes, but you were too angry to care at this point.

“Don’t think that I don’t see those pictures of you and the trainee, either. I haven’t seen you smile like that in months. At this point, I just need to know if you’re even invested in this relationship anymore?”

Shouto staggered back, as if you hit him. It wasn’t long until his anger rivaled yours, though.

“You can’t just pin this all on me. A relationship is a two person job, you know.”

You honestly felt like you were on fire with how much anger rushed through your body. “I’m aware! I’ve been doing most of the work to keep it afloat!”

He scoffed, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes a bit. “You’re being dramatic, you know I can’t be here all the time, I have a job to—“

“Yes, yes, I know. You have a ‘job to do.’ I just wish you could be a bit more sympathetic to the situation! Or, better yet, make some time for us.”

“What do you expect me to do? Quit working as a hero?” You’d never seen so much contempt in his eyes, how absolutely upset he was.

“Why are you putting words in my mouth? All I want is for you to put some effort into this relationship. You assume that I’m just always going to be here, but I have needs too, you know!”

He sneered, no warmth behind his eyes. “You knew what you were getting into when you decided to date me,”

Just like that, all of the anger had dissipated from your body. With the adrenaline leaving your body, all you felt was how tired you were, how your bones ached, and how much you just wanted to be done with all of this. It felt as though you were just fighting a losing battle, and any shred of fight you had in you had suddenly disappeared. Looking back up at Shouto, you sighed.

“You know what? You’re right, I did know what it meant to date you. Had I known where we’d be now, I’d seriously question whether this was the right decision.”

Side stepping, you pushed away from him, slowly walking towards your shared bedroom. “I’m tired of fighting for us when you obviously don’t care,”

You could hear the small gasp coming from him, but you were too tired to care. You felt drained and all you wanted to do was sleep. Before you could turn the corner, his voice froze you in place:

“That sounds a lot like ‘goodbye.’”

Shrugging your shoulders, you took a steadying breath. “Maybe it is,”

Looking over your shoulder, you let a pitiful smile grace your face.

“Oh, and Shouto?”

His eyes met yours, tears threatening to fall over at any moment.

“Happy anniversary.”

#bnha #mha #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha imagines #mha x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto x reader #shoto todoroki #todoroki shoto x reader

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bangtansfavwriter · 4 years

Text

📚🌱book store owner! namjoon🌱📚

- you were still trying to find your way around town as you moved there like 3 weeks ago

-you spent most of your time furnishing your flat and getting groceries as you were snacking all the damn time

-the weather was also kinda bad so you didn't really mind

- on one morning you got up and it was surprisingly sunny outside

-so you thought "why not explore the city a bit?", got ready and went out

-after an hour or so that you've spent in a stationary shop, you noticed a cute book store that was right across the street

- you almost didn't notice there was a shop in there bc of all the plants and flowers hanging down the balcony above the shop

- that's why it felt like a huge discovery to you bc this was probably the cutest book store you'd ever seen, with a very handsome guy sitting at a table in the front of the shop, between some peonies and dahlias that were planted in raised beds

- the guy was fixing something which you recognized as a ukulele when you walked past him and quickly made your way into the book shop, when you heard him grumble and say something like "broke it again..."

-you shook your head when you walked in and forgot about the angry ukulele guy when you got the first look at the superbly organized and clean shop with freaking bonsai trees literally everywhere you'd look

- there were 2 kids at the comic section, some youngsters revising something at one of the tables inside the shop and an old man reading a book next to a tabletop fountain

- as you made your way through the store you noticed something else that made the store even better than you thought, because whoever owned this shop was a salty but funny book nerd

- the book sections were titled in a rather unusual way.. to say the least. one section, for example, was called: "books you probably hate when you start reading but when you get to the end you have an existential crisis because of how good it was"

-you walked to the next section, already curious to see what was next and were surprised to see pretty much the entire bibliography of kafka right there in the "love him or hate him, you ain't him" and chuckled, because you too didn't know anyone with a neutral opinion on Kafka, people either loved him or hated him for his work

-you, however, loved him and apparently so did the person who put this section together

-you full on started laughing when you saw the section "kinda overrated, but suit yourself" and saw "romeo and juliet" displayed at the very front

- "guessing from you laughter, I'd assume you probably agree with me" you heard someone say behind you

- you turned around and zoned out for a sec, as you mustered the gorgeous man in front of you who had the sweetest dimples you'd ever seen

- "you know... I'll get shy if you stare any longer" he said with his deep voice and a slight smirk on his lips

- you snapped back into reality after he said that and quickly tried saving yourself because you already felt your cheeks burning, and you didn't want him to notice that

- "oh sorry, I suppose I was just startled. you're very tall, you know? kinda intimidating with all that... height.."

- he smiled and nodded and you mentally slapped yourself for this statement of yours

- "you're right, by the way, about romeo and juliet. absolutely overrated story about dramatic teens." you said and put the book back "did you come up with these categories?"

- "yeah, maybe it's a tad bit too personalized, but it's my humble opinion about some 'classics' the general public is trying to shove down our throats" he said

- "like 'old man and the sea'" you said and started laughing when he shot you a look of bewilderment

- "don't you dare insult hemingway in this household" he said, but started laughing himself after he said that

- "that was by far one of the most boring books I have ever read in my entire life!!"

"but it depicts the long struggle of the old man who faces his struggles and realizes how they ultimately become his-"

"boooring! and hemingway got a nobel peace prize for literature? for that writing? you should make a new category in your store - 'got prizes but at what cost (hint: my patience)'"

-he broke into laughter and you physically had to refrain yourself from poking his dimples

- your felt your blood rush into your head again when he shot you a beaming smile and said "maybe I should make a new category. 'controversial opinions from a gorgeous stranger' - how does that sound?"

- you quickly changed the subject, because his smooth answer actually made you flustered - something almost no one ever succeeded in

- "are these all your bonsai trees?" you said and walked some steps away from him, secretly hoping he'd follow and continue the conversation you were too shy to make a flirt out of

-"yes, cost me a lot of money and almost a friendship, but these are my babies."

-"this friendship... there was a rather angry looking guy sitting in front of your shop. does it have to do anything with him?" - "did he have a ukulele?" - "...yes." - "yeah that's him. jin hyung is mad at me because he helped me carry that big boy there (- he points at the biggest tree next to the check-out) and I obviously couldn't see what was around me and I accidentally kicked his ukulele. apparently it's broken now, I don't know." - you could somehow understand the flower-boy's anger but the book store guy was cute so: "he shouldn't have left around a damn ukulele then?? i mean?? "

- you giggled as he blurted out "I KNOW, RIGHT?" while wildly gesticulating in excitement about the fact that a stranger agreed with him

- you both went silent after laughing together, the tension didn't go unnoticed by neither of you. you remembered what he said to you earlier and had to suppress your smile. these couple minutes you spent with this stranger made you smile more often than you probably did this month altogether and you were aware of the fact that this is obviously something very special. but you just moved here and had to get adjusted to your new life in this city, would it really be sensible to get a new guy this quick? hell, he probably isn't even single, right? with these looks AND that height plus these dimples that you highkey wanted to kiss?

- he interrupted your train of thought by just clearing his voice, which you were incredibly thankful for, as you got very tongue-tied that moment:

"I should probably get back to work..."

-that was definitely not what you wanted to hear and you clearly couldn't hide your disappointment, bc his eyes widened all of a sudden and he started fidgeting nervously.

- "I should go, too, then..."

-that was not what he wanted to hear either... he sighed deeply and looked around quickly before softly pushing you into an aisle ("yearning 101")

- your breath hitched, his breathing became rapid too, as there were mere millimeters parting your lips from each other.. he gently ran his hands up your arms and you felt goosebumps all over your body. the only time his eyes left yours that moment was when he looked at your lips, that were more than eager to meet his at that moment. just as he was about to lean into you - "KIM NAMJOON! You owe me a new ukulele, you airhead!" was heard across the entire shop, followed by the front door slamming shut

-both of you stared at each other in shock before breaking into loud laughter

- "Oh my god, way to ruin the mood!"

You rubbed your sides that started aching from laughing so much. "You should go after your friend, you know" you said and could tell, by the look on his, that this was certainly not his priority at the moment. He scooted closer to you again. "Tell me your name, gorgeous." - "Y/N..." - He repeated your name with a hushed voice, as if he wanted to keep it a secret from the world. The mere melody of name leaving his lips affected both of you in a way, that you knew you had to explore further. "Say, Y/N... Any chance you might come along again tomorrow?" - "Most definitely" you replied with a smirk on your lips. "Oh, that's a relief. That'll bring me through the day and dealing with hyung. Maybe I'll even build a new section until you come back." You chuckled and looked at him. "Surprise me then, Namjoon~" you teased. "Maybe something like 'books to read all night because you thought of someone cute'?" - "'Books I randomly put together after I saw the cutest smile on earth" may be an option, I don't know" - "Oh, you're getting bold! 'Books I should have sorted instead of blatantly flirting with a customer'. What are you intentions, hmm?" you retorted sarcastically and slowly made your way to the door. You laughed as you saw the slightly offended look on his face. "Books I need to convince a sweetheart that I'm nothing like Joe Golberg!" - "Books how to learn to let people go and then go apologise to people!" (You two were now shouting through the store, the customers were confused but smiled at you two)

"books I will never read today because I'll see you tomorrow!" he yelled last, before you waved at each other with a smile and you left the store.

- Namjoon was growing more and more impatient the next day, as he jumped everytime he heard the door open, but each time it was some customer and not you. He ultimately starting losing hope and felt a little stupid for actually staying up late and creating a whole new section in the shop, hoping to show it to you as soon as possible. The mere thought of seeing you again made his heart race, that's why it was even more disappointing for him when it was almost time for him to close the shop and there was still no trace of you. He heard the door again and sighed very, very deeply, as an old man walked into the store who was one of the few people Namjoon actually despised, because of his overly-specific wishes. And, of course, the fact that he never actually bought a book. As his life energy was once again being sucked out by the most pointless conversation ever, he thought of you again. He wondered if something happened that made you change your mind. Was he too cocky? Did you think of him as some player who just flirted with each customer he found attractive? He sighed again. "Young man, you don't sigh in front of customers! Were you not taught any manners!". Namjoon, with his best customer service smile, tried to convince the man that it was just him, being absent-minded and that he didn't mean to offend him (even though he'd have every right to do so). In-between all the hassle, he didn't even hear that the door opened once again. It wasn't until you called out for him, that he noticed you finally were in the shop, with him. He stared at you with a blank expression on his face when you rushed towards him and immediately apologised for taking so long, which was because of the moving company being earlier than expected. Namjoon just stared at you while you rambled on, as did the old man. You apologised over and over again and then excused yourself when you finally realized that you probably interrupted Namjoon while he was talking to a customer. "Y/N!" he called after you. You turned around and looked at him with a quizzical look. "There's a new section in the back... Maybe you should check it out." You two smiled at each other, neither of you wanting to break your gaze. "Young man... I think I'm gonna take this book here. You can never go wrong with the classics" the old man said and grabbed 'The old man and the sea'. Namjoon did his very best not to laugh in his face, only did he now have a smile on his face that he absolutely could not hide at that moment. Two victories in one day. This day could only get better.

Meanwhile, you went to the very back of the shop, curious about what would expect you in the new section. A book joke again? One of the things you were talking about yesterday? You lost your train of thought when you noticed a section, that you didn't pass by yesterday. "My loneliness is killing me", with books by Dickinson and Poe at the very front, followed by "I must confess, I still believe" with romance novels all across the table, decorated with peonies he was growing in front of the shop. "The new section is in the next aisle, love" you heard Namjoon say behind you. You hesitated a bit, kind of overwhelmed with how fast you could feel everything developing. Yet, everything felt so right. "Go right ahead, I'm right here", he said reassuringly, as if he sensed your hesitation. You nodded and smiled at him. The most beautiful table in the entire shop awaited you in the next aisle. Inbetween beautiful bouquets and absolutely dashing table decorations were Shakespeare's sonnets and other love poems that were among your personal favourites as well. You looked at the section title, written on a card that was put into one bouquet.

"Books that will help me ask you out"

💕

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pinkysfaultorbrainsfault · 4 years

Text

pinky and the brain - s1e4: pinky and the fog

hello everyone! the hiatus is still going because i still feel like shit, mr stark, but this episode is weirdly short so i’m doing it anyway while i have some energy. i have a blood test tomorrow! i should be sleeping. i am not. (:

episode summary: brain has listened to too much of The Mist, which in this universe is a radio drama about a superhero, and not an overly depressing book where everyone dies. in turn, brain dubs himself “the fog,” and aims to hypnotise people by having his own radio show where he sticks his fingers in his mouth and does a funny voice.

i love him.

the rundown: it is New York City in 1932.

this time, there is very little introduction to the wonderful world of New York City 1932. there’s no intro or anything. it just cuts straight to mice.

they are listening to the radio. “WHO KNOWS WHAT MADNESS LURKS IN THE HEARTS OF MAN. THE MIST KNOWS.” at least now we know what madness lurks in the mind of peter hastings.

brain does not care. he’s meditating.

pinky, meanwhile, is unimpressed by the quality of radio. produced by rusty mills? he didn’t do a very good job, evidently.

“narf. i still can’t get a picture on this thing, brain.”

lol.

brain sits there and massages his head and pulls a funny face. he tells pinky to be quiet, because he has “almost finished honing” his “razor sharp mental powers”, which i assume means that he has buried himself in a seventy-eighth layer of emotional repression. homeboy is in narnia at this point.

pinky is excited about honing!!

and then he falls off the wheel.

brain does not care for the fate of his cagemate, and goes on to elaborate that

NOW HE HAS THE POWER

by power, he presumably means “funny little hat and cape”. he is now, as he emphatically tells pinky, THE FOG.

“nice fedora, brain”, says pinky, predicting every single person on reddit who thinks, perhaps, that they are brain in a world of pinkys. or possibly a rick sanchez in a world of whoever the other guy is that he doesn’t like. i’m not sure these kinds of people watch TV, for fear of Social Justice Messaging.

anyway brain is not an incel and we should be nice to him.

“but i see you more as a beret type.” see? berets are better! they have no terrible association, unless you’re particularly adverse to the french.

anyway brain offers to demonstrate his Mental Powers.

“ooohhh, i love it when you demonstrate, brain.” yes, pinky, i’m sure you do. he manages to not be gay for long enough to turn off the radio, which is more than most people can say for themselves.

“by altering the frequencies of my voice, i am able to befog men’s minds!”

i guess it doesn’t work on women, apparently. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“with some electronic gizmo thingy?”

“no! with these.”

okay.

IN A MOMENT YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO SEE ME. FOR I AM THE FOG.

as pinky attempts to turn the radio back on, he accidentally trips over their wheel.

you can’t see it very well, but rest assured it is definitely spinning very fast.

air mouse.

nyoom.

“egad brain! it worked! i can’t see you!”

brain is taking a bath.

still, as he ponders how to use his power on “millions of people at once”, pinky excitedly tells him that his trick worked! he’s as good as the guy on the radio!! (:

brain pulls his patented Idea Face. we know he’s just had an idea because he goes all like O:O and it’s cute.

brain will go on the radio! “taking the place of mist, so i can broadcast my genuine mental powers to millions of listeners, befogging their minds until they,”

MAKE ME THEIR LEADER.

so off they go to the radio station.

the radio tower they need to access is, of course, at the tippy-top of this building. brain calls it “yon tower”, for some reason (pretentious git) and casually mentions that soon it will broadcast his befogging message to every household in the world!

“and then, my dream will be realised.”

“you mean--”

“you’ll finally get to dance with the ballets russes?”

“no. the other dream.”

they make it into the radio station eventually, where they meet this bellboy.

we’re bellboys ouo

brain BEFOGS HIS MIND

and asks him very nicely to close the door.

GET IT?? HE’S A DOOR MOUSE. LOL

“open the door.” ):

the bellboy obliges, and, yet again, brain survives something that would kill literally anyone else.

it’s preparation for elmyra. probably.

inside the studio, the orchestra play some music befitting for a woman to freak out about getting kidnapped or whatever.

there she is. YOU’LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH THIS, YOU CRAZED MADMAN.

THE MIST WILL FIND ME.

IF HE DOES. HE’LL FIND YOU IN THESE CHAINS. UAAAAHHAHAHAHAHA.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.

as the Crazed Madman elaborates on his list of tortures (IN THIS DARK CELLAH, DOWN A LONG LOOOONG FLIGHT OF STAIRS) (which sounds like the filming location for funnybones, but go fig. hope lady enjoys the faint sound of meglovania playing in the distance) the mice watch, unimpressed.

brain does whatever that is with his arms, i guess. he’s squaring up.

as he peeps (don’t do it, pluto) pinky confides with a naaaaaaaaarf that he didn’t expect radio to be like this! more like-- okay, he describes it as “a big red squishy ball with little nobules on it” but i think i get what he means. kind of like windows media player visualisers.

i hope none of y’all are too young to get that.

“who are those ridiculous people who just stand there and read?”

“those are actors, pinky.”

“and who are those people that nobody’s paying attention to?”

“those are the writers.”

oof.

that burn concluded, the mice make their way into the vents.

brain flies away with his cape, somehow.

pinky........... also has a go.

rip.

conclusion:

this is a short episode.

as they make their joint landing on the desk of the sound effects guy,

brain BEFOGS HIS MIIIIIIND

FOR HE IS THE FOG

pinky excitedly interrupts to tell brain that the actual mist has arrived.

hmmmmm.

“the jig is up, crazed madman. for i am the mist.”

“MIIIIIIST. SAAAAAAAVE MEEEEEEE.”

as the mice prepare to make their debut, Crazed Madman informs the mist that he is too late! he is locking his girlfriend in his SECRET DUNGEON

BONK.

YOU FIEND, yells mist.

but the crazed madman isn’t done yet! he’s NAILING THE DOOR SHUT.

narrow escape for pinky. he has gone his whole life with a perfect tail and he’s not about to get it all bendy now, god damn it. he has to be on queer eye in like ten minutes.

brain is less fortunate.

alright well. never mind. oh dear.

AND, because Crazed Madman isn’t done yet. TO MAKE SURE THE POOR LASS CANNOT POSSIBLY ESCAPE.

I’M BUILDING A BRICK WALL IN FRONT OF IT.

ouch.

THEN I’LL THROW THESE DISHES UNTIL I SMASH YOUR HEAD IN, MIST

“haha!” says mist. “you can’t get me!”

“NOT EVEN WITH THIS,”

“ANVIL???????????”

BONK ² .

oof.

“i dare you to do that again!”

“oh no.”

BONK ³ .

“quick, pinky. run for cover!”

it’s a very cute screenshot! so they take cover inside... whatever instrument this is.

i don’t know!! i’m sorry!!!!

good thing the mist TOOK THE PRECAUTION

OF CALLING THE CAVALRY

nyoom.

I HEAR THEM COMING NOW

this is just.... a lot, at this point.

after getting bonked around so much, pinky is just about ready to jump into the bin.

he holds his nose! it’s very cute. brain follows him, pretty much without thinking about it, which is also very cute.

“a bomb!” yells distressed lady, as a bomb evidently becomes plot relevant.

“a bomb?” says the mist.

“a bomb?” says brain.

“sure, here’s one.” says pinky.

hm.

“i rerouted your bomb!” yells mist. “so all you blew up was your own lab!”

“my lab!” yells Crazed Madman.

“my hero!” yells Distressed Lady.

“my head.” says The Fog, shortly before collapsing with exhaustion.

SO ENDS ANOTHER EPISODE OF THE MIST.

meanwhile, back at the lab, a very bandaged brain mourns the loss of his Befogging Powers. his pawsies got all banged up!

never mind. at least they have Experimental Television Project to cheer them up!

brain isn’t into it.

brain: 6 pinky: 7 outside influence: 12

“i think so, brain, but--”

“the rockettes? i mean-- it’s mostly girls, isn’t it?”

#patb #pinky and the brain #this episode was So Cute #i LOVE the ones where brain has a little outfit!!!!#also this one had so many good faces dfghbjgfdfghfdfgh

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impulsive-astrophile · 4 years

Text

Find me defenseless (Chapter 4)

(Chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3)

Summary: “How did you get Mulder’s phone?” She asks, praying she’s wrong.

“Haven’t you guessed?” Comes the voice. “He’s with me. Say hi, Fox.” A pained grunt is the only response. “Now, now, Fox, what have we said about using our words?”

A muffled “fuck you” comes through the speaker then, followed by a chiding, “manners! Where are your manners?” and the sharp sound of skin on skin.

Scully’s heart races, anger making her feel red-hot. No one touches her Mulder. “Don’t you hurt him, you son of a bitch!”

OR:

Mulder is called to Des Moines, Iowa, without Scully to profile a serial killer targeting young men with military/law enforcement backgrounds - but without Scully there to watch his back, Mulder is kidnapped by the killer. When Scully gets a taunting call from the killer, she flies to Des Moines and raises hell to get him back. Mulder’s hers, and she’ll be damned if anyone stands between her and whoever dares to hurt him.

Words: 2995, Chapters: 4/5, Language: English

Fandom: The X-Files

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category: F/M

Relationship: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Walter Skinner, Various minor OCs

Additional Tags: Case fic, Casefile, Hurt Fox Mulder, Fox Mulder Whump, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Dana Scully Angst, Protective Dana Scully, Actual Puppy Fox Mulder, Dana Scully Would Flip Tables For Her Man Okay, Profiler Mulder, No betas we own our mistakes and cry about them like men

Read it on AO3, or below the cut!

Fox Mulder’s Hotel Room Des Moines, Iowa June 8 2327

A squad car pulls up outside the Motel 6 where Mulder had been staying. The tires have barely come to a stop when Scully wrenches the passenger door open, stalking toward Mulder's room. The shitty motel wall shakes with the force of the door slamming behind her.

"Get some rest, Agent Scully. You look like you're going to collapse," Skinner had said, not unkindly. "I'll have an officer drive you to Mulder's room and wait outside to take you back in a couple hours." She'd tried to protest, but he'd held up a hand, silencing her. "I'll make it an order if I have to, Agent," he'd warned. "Just go. Try to get some sleep. You're no use to Mulder if you're dead on your feet."

She'd wanted to protest, ask him when he'd last slept, why he wasn't 'getting some rest', but she'd bitten her tongue. He was her boss, and she wasn't going to win. Pick your battles, Dana.

Still, she was angry - at the officer in the car, for taking her away from the search, at Skinner, for being right, at her body, for betraying her and needing rest when Mulder was helpless at the hands of a serial killer. What was a day or so without sleep compared to what Mulder was probably suffering right now?

A haphazard stack of files in Scully's path, unnoticed by her, sends her sprawling to the floor, face landing in a suspicious stain on the carpet. She curses quietly to herself, nose wrinkling as she quickly pushes herself back up and crosses to the bed, which is as cluttered as the rest of the room. Mulder probably hadn't used it once.

She sighs; can't bring herself to care about scattering the files as she pushes them off and flops face down on the bed. The truth is, she is tired - she'd been in a near-constant state of hypervigilance and irritation since she'd arrived, and it was draining.

She's almost considering actually trying to get some sleep when her cell phone rings. The phone is in her hand before she consciously registers moving. "Agent Scully," she answers, breathless.

"Dana," a hauntingly familiar voice greets her from the other line. "It's lovely to hear your voice again."

Scully nearly trips in her haste to get through the door and out to the squad car, hissing, "it's the killer," and gesturing with the phone in her hand to the officer who had climbed out of the car to see what was wrong. The officer scrambles for her radio, calling into the station for a trace.

On the other end, the killer continues. "I feel like I know you. He always dodges my questions about him with a random fact about you. It'd be cute if he wasn't doing it to try to convince me I'm wrong about him. But I'm not dumb, no matter what he might think." The killer's disgust is clear in his tone. "I see right through him. It's actually kind of pathetic." Then his tone turns considering. "He begs for you, you know. When I'm hurting him. He begs you to save him. Do you want to hear?"

She really, really doesn't - but when she throws a questioning glance at the officer and the officer shakes her head, she knows she's going to have to. They need more time for the trace. "Don't hurt him," she threatens, steel in her voice that doesn't match her trembling body.

"Oh, Dana," the killer laughs, "it's a little late for that. But don't worry - I'll just give him a little cut, to get his attention. He's pretty out of it right now." Scully can hear muffled shuffling as the killer moves around, then, "Fox, I have your partner on the phone. Can you say something to her for me?" A pause, followed by a sharp hiss. "Dana," the killer addresses her again, "would you say something to Fox? It might help him to hear your voice."

"Mulder, can you hear me?" Scully says, not allowing her voice to tremble. "Mulder, I'm coming to get you, okay? Just hold on for me."

"S-scully?" A whimper comes over the line. "Scully, please, help me! I'm so scared!" Mulder's voice is desperate, and Scully feels tears gather unbidden in the corners of her eyes. She can’t stand the image of him that comes to mind - alone, hurting, terrified out of his mind.

The killer's voice returns. "See what I mean? Pathetic." The sound of a wet smack and another whimper from Mulder greets Scully from the receiver.

Scully slams her fist against the squad car, trembling. "Damn you! I'm going to kill you!"

"You're welcome to try, Dana." The killer sounds amused. "But you'll have to find me first."

Click.

"Damn it!" Scully whirls around, addressing the officer. "Did we get the trace?" At her nod, Scully all but pushes her into the driver's seat and rounds the car to climb into the opposite side. They tear out of the parking lot before Scully's door is fully shut.

Scully clenches her fists, using all of her restraint to resist telling the officer to go faster. They're already going 20 over the speed limit. Hold on, Mulder, she thinks. I'm coming for you.

Brady Hoover’s House 41.4544508, -93.7130393 (A.K.A. Bumfuck, Nowhere) June 8 2332

Brady Hoover hangs the phone up on the wall, crossing the room to where Mulder hangs, suspended inelegantly from the ceiling by two chains, manacles rubbing his wrists raw. "Your partner will be here soon," Brady says simply. "We don't have much time left." Mulder bites back a whimper as Brady brushes the skin of his arm, reaching up to roll the drip on the IV wide open.

Sometime during day two, Mulder had managed to escape from the chair. He's not sure, now, how he did it, but he wishes he hadn't. His head still hurts where Brady hit him with the bat, and he's had enough cracked ribs to know what the sharp pains he gets when he dares to breathe mean. But that wasn't the worst of it - Brady had also hooked him up to an IV that kept him in a constant state of panic and made even the slightest touch agony.

He doesn't feel the effects of the opened drip right away. Emboldened by the knowledge that Scully's on her way, Mulder spits in his captors face.

Brady's expression shifts to fury as he wipes away the saliva and delivers a swift blow to Mulder's stomach. "You're going to regret that, you little brat." Mulder's heart begins to race as Brady turns away, pulling a cart up from out of his field of vision. The cart has a bucket of water on it, in addition to a few electrical instruments and several blades, long and short.

It’s less of a selection than he usually brings, Mulder thinks to himself absently as Brady approaches, a smirk creeping across the killer’s face. Mulder’s pupils dilate, muscles clenching and heart pounding so hard he wonders how it hasn’t beat its way out of his chest yet. Panic threatens to overwhelm him. Fuckfuckfuck, please get here soon, Scully.

With the last of his composure, he chokes out, “Scully is gonna kill you.”

Brady chuckles humorlessly. “I know. In fact, I’m counting on it - but she’ll watch you die first. Now,” he indicates the door at the top of the basement stairs, “we only have about twenty minutes until your partner busts in here, and I still plan to have plenty of fun with you. Let’s get started, shall we?” He selects a short knife, holding it up to the light as if to inspect it. The blade gleams ominously.

Mulder’s vision is blurry as he watches the knife find a home on the skin over his breastbone. He forgets to breathe as his world narrows to the sharp, burning path the blade slices down his front. The cut is shallow, barely bleeds, but to Mulder it’s agony. A scream tears its way out of his already raw throat and he chokes on a sob.

Worldlessly, Brady drags the blade across the planes of Mulder’s chest, back, thighs -- painting him with anguish and savoring his broken cries.

Mulder is pure sensation. Pain dances down his back, up his thigh, burns across his shoulders and curves over his ribs. Eventually, he feels something slick, dripping down his skin, and the pain changes. It starts with a point; a tingle that spreads and rapidly builds into a crushing, stabbing pain, his muscles jumping with the force of it. It comes again and again and again and he forgets what it was like to feel anything else. He has never known anything but this.

To Hoover, this is bliss, this is relief. Someone is finally paying for what his best friend had done to him. He can feel weight lift off his shoulders with each cut, each scream making his heart sing. The electricity brings a new pleasure; the body beneath him dances and gasps, soaked in its own juices. Each shock breathes life into his soul and he forgets what being broken feels like. He will never know a greater joy.

Just Outside Brady Hoover’s House Bumfuck, Nowhere June 8 2350

Scully and the officer screech up outside the house in a cloud of dust, lights and sirens blaring. Scully jumps out of the car, gun drawn, as soon as the tires have come to a stop, ready to charge straight into the jaws of death to get her partner back.

The officer dashes after her, grabbing her arm. “Agent Scully, wait! We don’t have any backup. For all we know, we could be walking right into a trap. It’d be suicide.”

“He’s my partner. I’m going in.” Scully wrenches her arm away, watching with satisfaction as the officer stumbles back.

But the officer doesn’t back down. “Agent Scully,” she grabs her arm again, shaking her, “Dana, it’s going to be a shitshow in there. If we go in without backup, we could get killed. We could get your partner killed.”

Three years ago, Scully would’ve agreed with her. Three years ago, she would’ve played it by the book and waited faithfully for backup. Three years ago, she would’ve let him die.

But three years ago, she hadn’t met Fox Mulder; hadn’t spent late nights on the road with him driving to the middle of nowhere, hunted ghosts and shapeshifters and aliens and cannibals at his side. Hadn’t learned to be fond of the way he cracks sunflower seeds at all hours, or how he can’t sit still for five minutes, or how he could go on for hours about everything and nothing. Hadn’t known what it was like to follow someone to hell and back thirty times over, crawling out side-by-side, beaten and bloody but still alive.

How could she not follow him into the dark one more time?

Resolute, Scully wrenches her arm out of the officer’s grip again. “You don’t understand,” she says, looking the officer in the eyes. “He’s my partner. I’m not leaving him in there for one more second.”

Something that might be understanding flickers in the officer’s gaze. She nods at Scully, drawing her own weapon. “Okay. Let’s get your partner.”

The pair approaches the house side-by-side. The officer breaches the front door and the two work quickly to clear the house before finding the door to the basement. This door opens out, so Scully decides to try the knob before trying to kick it down; God must be smiling on her that day, because the knob turns easily and gives way to a set of cement stairs.

On the count of three, Scully and the officer charge down the stairs, speaking in unison, “FBI, freeze! Hands in the air!” “DMPD! Stay right where you are!”

The sight they’re met with when they reach the bottom stops them in their tracks. A blond-haired man, about 5’10’’, stands in front of Mulder, a cattle prod held loosely in one hand. Mulder hangs limply from chains attached to the ceiling, angry cuts and burn marks littering his body. His muscles twitch sporadically and his eyes are glazed over as if he is no longer present.

It seems to take the man a moment to register their presence, but once he does, the look in his eyes turns a little manic and he drops the cattle prod in favor of a knife. In a flash he has the tip pressed to Mulder’s thigh, right where Scully knows the femoral artery is. Mulder lets out a little gasp at the contact but otherwise doesn’t react.

“Don’t come any closer,” the man warns, drawing a pinprick of blood from Mulder’s leg. “I’ll kill him!”

Grip on her gun tightening, knuckles white, Scully counters, “Drop the knife, and I’ll consider not killing you.”

“Oh, but I want you to,” the killer says. Scully falters at this. What? “I’m going to kill your partner, and you’re going to kill me, and I’ll finally be at peace.”

The scream Mulder lets out when the killer plunges the knife into the soft flesh of his leg will haunt her for a long time.

Before she knows it she is squeezing the trigger - but all she gets is a click, telling her the clip is empty. What? I know I had a full clip when we got here… she looks down, seeing the crumpled form of the killer, a puddle of blood forming beneath him. There’s a bullet hole dead-center in his forehead, and she suspects that when an autopsy is done they’ll find the rest of her clip center-mass - but as far as she’s concerned, he got off easy. If the situation had permitted, she’s not sure she would’ve been able to prevent herself from beating the shit out of him - not entirely sure, for that matter, she would’ve wanted to.

But none of that matters now; he’s dead, and Mulder’s bleeding out.

Scully drops her gun -- barrel still smoking -- and rushes to Mulder’s side. “Help me get him down,” she demands of the officer, who rushes to comply.

Scully grabs Mulder around the waist, grunting with effort as she hoists him up as much as she can to ease the tension on the chains he’s suspended by. The manacles around Mulder’s wrists are secured firmly by padlocks, but the officer doesn’t waste time looking for the keys, choosing instead to shoot them off. Scully spares half a thought to be grateful for her quick thinking as the two of them work to get Mulder laid out on the floor.

With Mulder on his back, Scully gets a closer look at the damage to his leg - and breathes a sigh of relief. The knife hadn’t gone too deep, and by sheer dumb luck, the killer had managed to miss the femoral artery entirely.

Sometimes she thinks Fox Mulder might just be the luckiest unlucky son of a bitch in the world; his sister had been kidnapped when he was a kid, his mother had almost died, he frequently found himself at the heart of near-deadly government conspiracies - and yet, despite all of this, his would-be killer had somehow missed the artery he’d been perfectly poised to sever. He would’ve bled out in minutes, and there would’ve been very little Scully could do about it in such a remote location.

Scully pulls off her blazer, whispering hushed apologies to him as she presses it firmly around the hilt of the knife. He whimpers. She glances up, noticing his hitched sobs and the rapid beat of his heart visible through his chest. Her eyes search out the officer, jerking her chin toward Mulder’s leg and snapping, “hold pressure here. I need to check him for other injuries.”

The officer complies immediately, sure hands replacing Scully’s around the wound. “Backup and an ambulance are two minutes out,” she tells Scully, and sure enough, the sound of sirens blaring approaches rapidly.

Scully jerks her head up and down in acknowledgment, hands already probing Mulder for further injuries. She notes at least 10 long but superficial lacerations in various locations along his body in addition to several burn marks -- mostly electrical -- of varying degrees of severity, taking particular notice of the way even the slightest touch makes him gasp out in pain.

Finally, she locates the cause: an IV taped to Mulder’s arm. That explains heightened stress response and sensitivity to pain, she thinks to herself, reading the label on the now-empty bag.

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully says, discarding the bag and pulling Mulder’s head into her lap. She runs bloody fingers through his hair and silently curses his tormentor, wishing she could’ve put a couple more bullets into the man. Mulder whimpers, trying to pull away. “It’s okay, Mulder. You’re going to be okay,” she whispers to him.

He blinks up at her with unfocused eyes. “Scully?”

“It’s me, Mulder,” she assures him.

“Scully.” He closes his eyes, wincing but leaning into her touch all the same. “Hurts,” he gasps out.

“I know, sweetheart,” she says, pet name slipping out unnoticed as she strokes one hand, feather-light, through his hair. The other flutters around his forehead, face, chin - anywhere she can reach, trying to ground him without causing more pain. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.” His hands grasp at her slacks, shifting so he can bury his face in her stomach.

He cries.

He cries, pulling her impossibly closer, and Scully’s heart breaks. This has to be hurting him, she knows, but he’s so desperate for comfort that he’s willing to take the pain if it means he can be closer to her.

Tears slip out of her eyes unbidden as she whispers, “you’re safe now, Mulder. You’re mine, and I have you, and no one’s going to hurt you again.”

(chapter 5)

#fic #xf fic #mine #my writing #msr #The X-Files #X-files #casefile #case fic #protective dana scully #actual puppy fox mulder

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel N°16 [ Yumerai ]

This is chapter sixteen! We're slowly approaching the end!

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

The drawing belongs to me, please don't take it !

Have a good read!

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

Pathetic.

Useless.

Weak.

Through feelings too powerful to be controlled, Dream had been stripped of his role as guardian of positive emotions. Not by any third party, but by himself.

Unable to save his brother from corruption, he had been forced to watch him corrupt the multiverse, corrupt his best friend, destroy the world that had been theirs by hurting the people they loved.

In the end, Dream had lost everything. Nightmare at first, then Ink, then his friends like Blue... And how to explain his horror when he had discovered the birth of Nyx? That he had seen the way Nightmare treated him, that he was helpless in front of his nephew that he was unable to help?

Dream had simply been useless.

Too weak to maintain positive emotions, to watch over dreams. Too weak to protect whoever it was. At least it was too weak as a guardian, as a 'nice little peaceful skeleton'.

So he had made a decision.

[He had disavowed his role.]

No more being nice, because in his timeline, kindness didn't lead to anything. Nothing at all. He had convinced himself of that. Trying to sound like his brother, trying to sound like Ink... useless, just useless. Only the hard way was working now, and Dream had made that clear.

Draw his bow, materialize an arrow of light, shoot without the slightest hesitation at his brother, target him between the two orbits. And even if Nightmare had managed to dodge, his stunned face was enough to anchor Dream in his ideas.

[The sweet Dream no longer existed.]

Looking for a way to make a difference, to save their world, to save what's been lost. That was the mission that Dream had set for himself. To make up for their mistakes, their weakness, by changing the moment when everything had turned upside down, that little moment that had sealed their fate.

Oh, Dream had never thought of erasing Nyx, far from it! In his eyes, the birth of his nephew was in no way the cause of this decline! No, the problem went back further, to the insecurity problems of Ink and Nightmare, but also to the problems of the whole multiverse. Because to be so easily corrupted by the master of misfortune, it was that their world wasn't going so well in the first place ...

Everything was so complicated. There wasn't just one problem to deal with, but the problems of multiple monsters. Everything had to be considered, every detail counted, every action, every sentence... Killer who sought comfort from Color to forget Nightmare, Color who was dying of jealousy because of his one-way love, Dust and Horror who saw in Nightmare a support and a model to follow to overcome their doubts and weaknesses, Error who was terrified at the idea of committing himself with Ink...

Hundreds of gears that worked with each other. The gears of misfortune that had really failed when Nyx was born.

Nyx was not the cause, only the extra element, the drop in the bucket.

Dream would have wanted to tell him so many times, wanted to reassure him ... but he had never been able to do so. For Nyx didn't listen, Nyx was stubborn, Nyx was... was... was simply locked up, imprisoned by his parents' vision. That skewed vision that put all the blame on the poor little skeleton.

“I don't know what to do to help him...” he blew, sat on the floor, head down as he felt Error come over to him.

Error who was looking in the wave, hands in his pockets, smoking a cigarette with his teeth without really enjoying it.

“It's not by words but by actions that we'll have to change him.” he replied.

Dream had gently raised his head, to observe the Glitch in silence, before looking into the void in turn to address the Destructor again:

“... I still don't understand why you're doing all this... Why you took Nyx under your wing... Why you allowed me to come live with you, with Cross and Lux...”

The other breathed a puff of smoke without casting the slightest glance at the guardian of dreams, only to answer with a shrug that made poor Dream sigh. This did not help him any more in his questioning ...

“...would you try to redeem yourself because you think you are responsible for our situation?" insisted the young dream. Do you think that if you had been different with Ink, all this wouldn't have happened?”

He felt the Glitch tensing up, only half a second before he was suddenly grabbed by the pass to be pulled against Error, to meet his eyes crackling with a rage that he was struggling to control, to swallow as the voice of the Destroyer became low, terribly hoarse, broken by the many hardships of recent years:

“... You talk too much Dream. Don't make me angry.”

Dream felt electrified. Electrified by that aura, that look, that voice... By this being that he had cherished for so long, without ever daring to say anything about it. Because he didn't want to betray Ink... and Error would never love him anyway.

*** ***

Dream shook his head, clearing his memories to stand in front of the gate that was waving in front of him. This was no time to dither. He had to cross that blue whirlwind, go back in time, save his nephew - if he wasn't dead yet ... -

But he found himself frozen, unable to take a single step. He hadn't told Cross or Lux. He had left his family behind only to take responsibility for his own actions. For suggesting the idea of going back in time, for not realizing that the gate had to be closed, for... everything. Absolutely everything. The corruption of his brother and his friend ... the fact that he gave too much responsibility to Nyx ... and ... the death of Error ...

He shook his head, took a breath, tightening his grip on his bow. His cracked crown, with missing pieces in it, seemed heavy to carry today...

[He frowned]

[He went through the portal]

*** ***

Nightmare didn't know what to think as he roamed the AUs with increasing nervousness. Everything was in turmoil, seemed incomprehensible to him and at the same time terribly clear. A truth that he refused to admit but that kept biting his mind.

Nyx possessed changing pupils, tentacles, a pronounced taste for drawing, the ability to blend into the shadows ... Nyx knew them by heart, but he also knew an Ink who seemed to come from the future.

Nyx ... was his son from another timeline.

“... Damn it...!” he growled as he quickened his pace.

Nyx was his son... damn it... it was so hard to swallow, to accept! Of course, the master of misfortune had tenderness towards the youngest, but not to the point of considering him as his child! Insomnia was his child, not Nyx! Because Nyx... Nyx was...

Nyx was his friend. A precious friend.

A friend he'd pissed off in a fit of anger, when the cartoonist went out of his way to help them, to help them have a happy life. It was because of Nyx that Nightmare had the family life he had dreamed of... and Nightmare had acted like the worst kind of bastard.

Now Nyx was missing, as was PaperJam who had apparently fled the house. Ink and Error had found out too late and were now worried to death, actively searching for their son in all universes without any possibility of finding his magical trace, as if it was camouflaged.

Nightmare growled. The magic was hard to camouflage. Powerful spells had to be used, which didn't reassure anyone about little Jammy's fate. Was it this Ink from the future who had gotten his hands on the boy? Unfortunately, there was a good chance ... And shit, "Ink from the future" was so boring to pronounce! Especially since he shouldn't be alone, and Nightmare couldn't see himself saying "Ink from the future", "Dust from the future", "Killer from the future" ... or even "Nightmare from the future". It was repetitive, boring, useless.

“Ink is so borring over paint... Can't I find a nickname to go with it?”

Slowing down his run to think, he stopped suddenly at the agreement of a weak, very weak sigh. Or rather a whisper. A word carried by the wind, it seemed to him:

“Etsuko ...”

He frowned at the arches, looked around him suspiciously without seeing anything except the few echo flowers nearby. But it couldn't have been them, could it? The echo flowers were just repeating what they heard. But it seemed like a strange coincidence that they would repeat such a word right at the very mention of Nightmare, a word that sounded a lot like a name.

The master of misfortune shrugged his shoulders: he wasn't going to worry about that. It was worth taking the ...

“Etsuko ...”

He turned to the flowers. Why did they seem so insistent? Was he getting the wrong idea, just blaming poor, harmless flowers?

He sighed:

“Okay, let's go for Etsuko...”

He waited a while, to see what would happen. But nothing... Nothing at all. And this realization tensed him: why didn't the flowers repeat what he had just said?

Suddenly his mind twisted, encountering a sudden magical apparition. His eyes widened: PaperJam ... he was not camouflaged anymore ! And from what he could feel... he was in Underlust?

Despite the terrible apprehension that it was a trap, Nightmare had no choice but to rush there, knowing in advance that Error and Ink must already be there, having surely reacted faster than him.

He disappeared into a portal, not knowing that he should have lingered longer by the flowers ... because he could have heard the sweet laughter that escaped from there. A laughter that accompanied an amused voice:

“To think that I have to intervene for silly nicknames... !”

*** ***

Life had been good to him. The last few days had probably been the best of his life. Yes Ink was happy. Happy to finally be reunited with Error, to be able to live his love with him, to be united with him. To shake his hand, to embrace his body, to devour his mouth. Exchanging caresses, tender words...

And came PaperJam, his adorable child, so cute, so innocent, so sweet and gentle. The family he had always dreamed of ... accompanied by that truce with the Bad Sans, who had offered him new friendships. Horror, Dust, Killer... but especially Nightmare.

Nightmare... with whom he should have had a child? Who he should have had... Nyx...?

When did it escape him, the Creator? When only a short time ago he thought everything was 'normal'? That Nyx was just one skeleton among many, a skeleton with whom he had befriended?

Nyx held out a chip which Ink willingly accepted, stuffing it in his mouth as he sniffed it, wiping his tear-fogged eyes. The one with the black bones slid his hand over his skull and gently caressed him, in an almost paternal gesture that soon reassured him. Finally, he finally dozed off, far too comfortable in the bed that was not his, smelling the odor of Nyx that had permeated the sheets and which, it must be said, was not unpleasant.

Nyx lying unconscious on the ground, his head resting on the knees of a worried Plum.

“... He... collapsed? Just like that?” Ink questioned, having a hard time grasping the situation as his trembling voice testified.

Plum looked at him feverishly:

“Y-Yes... I don't understand... I don't understand ... he ... He seemed to have a panic attack, then he lost consciousness!”

It wasn't a simple blackout, Ink knew that all too well. For Nyx, besides breathing with difficulty, was sweating heavily, his body boiling, as if he was in the grip of a violent illness.

“... He would be sick ...? hesitated the Creator without daring to approach.

- He was fine only yesterday, said Error, who was standing next to him. He couldn't have gotten so sick in one night in ...”

But his voice died, interrupted by another which rose softly behind them:

“... Nyx is not sick ...”

Ink and Error turned around at breakneck speed to see their little Jammy in the doorway. Jammy's gaze was fleeting, due to his fear of being scolded by his parents but also the worry of seeing Nyx in such a state. Trembling with tears in his eyes as he felt his soul beating at full speed in his rib cage, he curled up on himself, ready to burst into tears:

“...A-a... a nasty Nightmare... he hurt Nyx... a-and Nyx kept falling asleep and waking up... like he was having a nightmare...”

Ink remained mute of stupor, to finally throw himself on PaperJam that he came to hug with all his forces, perceiving all the terror which lived in him, under the glance of Error who was divided between the desire to take his family against him and the desire to find this 'bad Nightmare' to explode his face.

“Calm down Jammy... the painter breathed, gently caressing his son's back. It's all right now...

- N-No, it's not true, it's not all right!" cracked the boy as he let out a sob. “I couldn't protect my big brother... and the bad guy's gone, he'll come back, he'll hurt us... !”

‘My big brother’. These words struck Ink's mind with force as his face became pale. So PaperJam had understood who Nyx was? No, the real question was... Had PJ accepted Nyx as a real member of their family? Without worrying about some timeline story?

Error grinned at the same words, but preferred to ignore them to concentrate on another detail. He came and crouched down beside Jammy and, timidly, caressed his shoulders in a clumsy attempt to comfort him:

“... PaperJam ... Do you know where this 'bad Nightmare' has gone?”

The child sniffed and shook his head as he came to curl up more against Ink.

Error remembered an insult when he saw how his son had been upset by the whole thing. He addressed Ink seriously:

“So there is not only an Ink from the future but also a Nightmare. And it won't surprise me that there are still others, which multiplies our enemies and therefore the danger. They must know the multiverse on the tip of their knuckles, probably better than we do.

- ... What do we do then? replied his lover. Do we prepare a counterattack? Do we hide? Do we wait? We skim the whole multiverse blindly?”

Faced with the painter's terribly rough tone, Error frowned on the arches:

“I don't know Ink. It's useless to take it that way!”

The Creator shot him with his pupils turned red:

“You give me a catastrophic summary of our situation without providing any solution! If it's just to depress me by putting me up against the wall, you can keep your remarks to yourself!

- I stated the facts and the possibilities! We've never been faced with such a danger, these guys probably know us better than we know ourselves! They can anticipate our actions and...

- And what? I'm well aware of it, who do you think I am?

- For a skeleton that seems to have already given up!

- How have I given up? I'm trying to take care of my sons here!”

Error bugged for a moment, before straightening himself up quickly by clenching his fists, pushing PaperJam to squeak with fear when he saw his parents arguing like that.

“Your sons?” repeated the Destructor coldly. “You have only one son, the one WE gave birth to!”

Ink gritted his teeth, closed his eyes to put his mind in order, imperceptibly squeezing PJ against him as if to give himself courage. He finally looked at his lover again:

“Nyx may come from another timeline... but I can't see him as anything other than my son.

- ... Are you kidding me?”

Error didn't know how to feel. Anger, frustration, jealousy, misunderstanding? He could accept that Nyx was Ink's son, but ... in another timeline, and only in another timeline! Not in theirs! Because in theirs, Ink was his, his and nobody else's, let alone Nightmare's!

“Yesterday you considered this guy a friend! And now you suddenly adopted him? Stop pissing yourself off!”

But if the voice that answered him was Ink's, it wasn't his Ink's voice. An evil, sadistic voice, whose sinister sneer shook the walls of the house and the monsters in the room.

“I agree, Error. This poor version of me is really infatuated with anyone!”

The yelp of PaperJam, thrown to the ground without the slightest softness, was nothing compared to the scream Ink uttered when he was hit hard by an ink tentacle that sent him waltzing against the wall.

Although Error was caught unawares, he didn't let himself be destabilized and received his son in panic, before catching Ink with his bluish threads while making bones to defend himself. His eyes filled with anger went to a corner of the room, and a shiver of hatred ran through him as he noticed the presence of this Ink of the future, quietly leaning against a wall with his arms folded.

“You bastard, you've got guts to bring your mouth here!”

His lover's double had a bad laugh before stepping towards him:

“Don't take it like that Ruru, I only come to free you from a weight.”

The magic of Error crackled, seething with resentment at his words, and the voice of Glitch sizzled with rage:

“I will smash you. I will destroy you for daring to touch my family.”

The future Ink raised his eyes to the sky before shaking his head with weariness, as if annoyed by such nonsense:

“Let's see Ruru... I'm your family.

- Call me 'Ruru' one more time... and I assure you I won't be in control.

- ... You're hopeless. Why can't you understand all the love I have for you? I probably love you much more than that old version of me. Do you understand that? Do you understand how much this version you're dating makes fun of you? He hasn't made the slightest effort to win you over, hasn't experienced the pain and sorrow that I have. He had outside help, and now that he's got you, he's turning to Nyx! Nyx that's not yours! Who's a stupid skeleton that came out of nowhere! What's next? Who's to say this Ink didn't turn away from you? That he won't leave you for Nightmare, only for the "good" of a son that isn't his?!”

The real Ink was recovering from the previous shock and was listening, with bitterness and anger, to the words of his double. This him of the future .... Did he even realize he was talking about his son? His son who was standing unconscious in the same room with him? Did this Ink from the future only realize that Nyx was at his worst?!

“... My Ink is an idiot, Error suddenly approved. But it's him and no one else that I fell in love with!!”

The two Ink hiccupped simultaneously, one deeply outraged and the other terribly moved. Before one of them recovered from his emotions, Error threw bones in the direction of the impostor, destroying part of the house in the process under the desperate gaze of poor Plum.

The Ink of the future just had the opportunity to leap backwards without dodging the entire attack. He grimaced when a bone was planted in his shoulder and had no choice but to retreat again, ending up outside the house, in the infinite cold of the Underlust Snowdine.

Error came to rest PaperJam, furtively caressing his skull before teleporting to his opponent and attacking him again. The child squealed, his face ravaged with fear and sobs, while looking terrified at the raging battle outside.

Ink hastened to his feet to draw Broomie:

“Plum, watch over my sons!” he ordered before throwing himself into battle.

An explosion sounded, followed by a burst of magic and the shrill sound of a blaster. The blast raised a wave of snow that fell with a crash, hiding the opponents under a smoke of ice. But despite the reduced visibility, Plum and Jammy realized that neither the Creator nor the Destroyer could defeat their opponent.

[Cause he knew them by heart, as Error had guessed.]

The snow finally fell, revealing more clearly the battle that was taking place. The threads of Error were sharply cut by vile tentacles, and the Ink of the future dodged an attack without difficulty by suddenly transforming himself into a puddle of ink, before taking a normal form just behind the Destroyer that he immobilized with his appendages .... So that these can be sliced in turn. By other tentacles.

“Wha...? wondered the one from the future.

- To think that I found Ink boring... But you're worse Etsuko!” cried the familiar voice of Nightmare, a voice of fun, defiance and anger. A voice coming from everywhere and nowhere, as if out of the shadows, out of the mind.

The three opponents stopped all movement to look around them while the Ink of the future frowned on the arcades with confusion and mistrust:

“Etsuko...? he repeated.

- A little nickname, so as not to confuse our mind. And specially to differentiate a stupid painter from a crazy painter.”

Nightmare finally appeared, standing between Etsuko and the two others, stinging an icy glance on the one of the future:

“But it doesn't matter, since you'll only be dust in a few minutes.”

The nightmare master's appendages agitated, whipped the air like a threat, while Etsuko stood staring at the guardian of bad emotions.

“... Ink... Etsuko... however I'm named... blew that of the Future. Anyway... That won't stop me from killing you.”

His face was torn by a terrifying smile... and he vanished.

Nightmare winked in disappointment and winked back to swallow a scream when he felt a pain twist in his arm. He winced, realizing that Etsuko had taken him as a traitor, and turned sharply to counterattack. However, he only hit the void, which made him growl.

“Bastard... !”

He jumped to the side and felt an ink puddle slip at his feet, and his gesture was not useless, for the next second his enemy came out of the puddle and threw sharp bones at him. Dodging, feeling one of the weapons brushing against him, he weighed himself down and teleported himself to the heavens, to make a Gaster Blaster appear, with which he shot Etsuko.

Etsuko who used his appendages as a shield, before materializing in his turn a Blaster. But instead of aiming at Nightmare, he took advantage of the other Ink's inattention.

Ink, still a bit stunned, who just had the opportunity to turn his skull before being dazzled by the powerful flash of the energy beam.

“INK!” Error and Nightmare shouted simultaneously as they watched in horror as the painter was about to disintegrate.

But it didn't happen. A golden light appeared for a second, accompanied by a loud sound of teleportation. The blaster wiped out where Ink had been, but not a trace of the Creator among the cloud of dust and debris.

Everyone was mute in amazement ... before Error was startled by the realization that there was a new presence behind him.

“Is everything okay?”

He turned around, opened his eyes, just like Nightmare who was unable to explain what they saw: Ink, safe and sound, gently carried in the arms of ... No... it couldn't have been... Yet there were very few skeletons wearing such a crown. But despite the appearance that didn't deceive... Nightmare didn't know if the skeleton that saved Ink was indeed Dream.

Ink himself seemed confused about who was supposed to be his best friend:

“... Dream?” he hesitated.

No, it couldn't have been Dream. Dream was a young skeleton, smiling and sparkling, with a soft warm aura. While this skeleton... this skeleton didn't have a smile on his face, not even a shred of joy. He only looked tired, exhausted... and deeply angry.

It was Etsuko who broke the silence again, his magic crackling even more angrily than before:

“Goddamn Dream! Always in my way !” he spat.

The three skeletons of this timeline freeze, having now the confirmation that the new one was indeed Dream. But so... the future Dream? This one rested Ink with a great softness, before patting his head amicably, but always without emitting the least smile:

“I will take care of him. Rest.”

It was not only addressed to the painter but also to Nightmare and Error. Finally he came to look into Etsuko's eyes and his face became harder, more implacable.

“Destroying our world wasn't enough for you, you also had to come and wreck another timeline?

- That you who gave me this opportunity.” Etsuko replied.

Dream sighed... and the arrow he shot was faster than the speed of light.

Etsuko hiccupped, screamed, fell to his knees and grabbed his belly, to turn his bewildered gaze towards his ribs, towards THE rib that the guard had aimed at and hit hard! Marrow was already starting to flow out of the wound to stain his clothing, but before anyone could really become aware of the situation, Dream teleported himself just in front of his enemy, to prepare his bow again and put an arrow in his face.

This time, the corrupt Creator did not let it happen and teleported himself in panic, several meters away from the guardian, to counterattack with his tentacles. Dream dodged a first appendage, contrasted a second one with his bow, but was whipped by a third one. This did not destabilize him, he kept an imperturbable face, and again used his bow to shoot a new arrow.

Nightmare twitched, his eyes clutching said arrow. His twin, guardian of dreams and good emotions, had always had this ability to generate arrows of light. But this Dream of the future... Its light was not pure. On the contrary, it seemed dimmed. Like... Like it was ready to sink into darkness.

If that made him pale, seeing his brother attack Etsuko without mercy made him even more unstable.

“Are you trying to play the hero? accused the corrupt painter. You, the guardian who gave up his title after abandoning his family? You're nothing but a Dream sub-shit! Don't come and stand up to me and play the Good guy !”

The Dream Keeper tensed up, to shoot a new arrow, this time missing his target.

“... I don't play the hero ... he blew trembling. I'm not, I never was... Unlike you. You were the hero of the whole multiverse, the Creator, the Keeper. But you chose to turn your back on everyone for a stupid one-sided love.”

Etsuko trembled, shaken by his words, and his anger was mixed with guilt and sadness that brought tears to his eyes. Yet he did not cry, on the contrary: his negativity gave him even more power, and in a hateful howl he knocked down his tentacles again.

Dream lowered his bow, his eyes exhausted, as if ready to submit to death ... to finally teleport at the last moment, dodging the attack before he sighed:

“... "Deep down... maybe I would have ended up like you, if you hadn't given me the counterexample. Seeing you sink into despair made me want to move on, to tell myself that I didn't want to end up like you.”

He sighed again while closing his eyes, as if to give himself courage, then raised his head, resting his golden gaze on the Corrupt Creator, this Creator who was once his best friend.

The golden glow of his pupils changed, sank, and became darkness.

Nightmare hiccupped with terror, as did Ink and Error ...

And the Dream of the future aimed again at his enemy, materializing at the same time an arrow darker than the darkness itself:

“I am no longer a guardian. I'm no longer a Dream.”

His voice had darkened as much as his gaze, and the icy air finished to petrify the group:

“... I am Yumerai, the vengeful dream.”

===

Next Chapter

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===

Credits =

Dreamtale -> Joku

Ink -> Comyet / Myebi

Error -> Lover The Piggies

Sugar Plum -> undertale Community (formerly NSFWShamecave ?)

Paperjam -> 7GoodAngel

#Guardian Angel #nyx #dream #ink #paperjam #sugarplum #alternate universe #alternate timeline #undertale #fanfiction #errink #nightkiller #inkmare #shipchild #nightmare #error #nightink #sans

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