#hypnotic addiction au

[megarax-ponyo]

Let's pretend that you don't exist for him, let's pretend

Because you are really there and he sees you as a hindrance

#my artwrok #welcome home #my art #welcome home frank #welcome home puppet show #hypnoticaddictionau #welcome home au #meganixart #wally drawing #my stuff #wh wally #hypnotic addiction au #wh au #wally x barnaby #wally darling #frank frankly #welcome home wally #barnaby b beagle au #barnaby b beagle #wally au #wally x frank

[welcomehome-fan35]

#hypnotic addiction au #meganixart #playfellowxxx

[bunnyreaper]

task force 141 boys, au where they all work as masseurs and you're their client.

(18+/nsfw, f!reader) 

simon is known for his sheer strength when it comes to massages. he has a lot of clients who are stressed-to-death business types because any knot, he can work it out, and he does it without saying a word. he's preferred by clients who don't want to make small talk during their treatment. 

his hands are massive, and seriously, any aches quiver in his presence because they know they're going to be gone soon under his firm touch. 

when you come to the appointment, it's a change of pace from his usual clientele. you ask questions and seem just a touch nervous, explaining that your usual masseuse was out on maternity leave and your boss had recommended simon. he made it his mission to make you comfortable, and from that first appointment with you, he's finds he doesn't mind conversation so much as long as it's yours.

at the end of the first session, you mention your preference for late night appointments, and while he wouldn't usually change his schedule, he does for you. he accommodates you because he kind of hates the idea of you with another masseur--he gets the sense you wouldn't be comfortable with some of his coworkers. 

he'll never ever make a move or do anything suggestive. he stiffens and hesitates when he gets too close to anywhere he shouldn't, and makes sure to always remain super professional (he's definitely overcompensating.) 

one session, you're turning over to your front when the towel slips and he sees the slightest glimpse of your breasts--but what strikes him is the way you apologise to him.

the both of you are so flustered, you don't even notice you've left your phone behind until you get out to your car. when you rush back in to grab it, you forget to even knock and walk in on simon with his dick in his hands. 

and god, even the way he works himself is hypnotic, and you can't help but want to lend a hand as you take ahold of his slick cock.

john attracts clients with his warm demeanor, and his occasional bit of sage life advice on top. a lot of his clients tend to be guys like him, so he's surprised when you end up at one of his appointments. 

he's instantly smitten, and finds that he pays extra attention to your body. not just how it looks, but the way you react to his touch. unlike any masseur you've had before, he doesn't need to ask about the pressure and you don't need to correct him, because he just knows. it's instinct, the right pressure, the right moves, the right scents and everything. you start to think john is criminally undervaluing his services, as you come out from every session feeling a million times better. you used to only go once a month or once a fortnight, but it's almost as if you're addicted to his touch. he refuses tips, so you start baking for him and batting your pretty eyelashes at him to get him to take the treats.

one session you have the achiest thighs ever, and you groan to him about how much you just need some relief. price laughs, and gets to work on oiling up the back of your thighs. he's so in tune with you, he notices the way you squirm under his touch as his fingers climb higher, notices the way your breathing escalates, and well, it's impossible to ignore when you straight up moan for him.

you're horrified but his soothing voice is there, reassuring you that it's normal and natural and nothing to worry about. you swear when you turn over he's smirking. at the end of the appointment, he offers you his card, looking you dead in the eye as he tells you he makes house calls too. 

and of course his intimate massages, just for you, are mind blowing. he takes his time even more than usual, working the tension out of your hands, your arms and your shoulders before moving to your breasts and down your stomach. then he works up from your feet, over your calves and thighs just as he did before. he has you entirely slicked and oily as he massages your clit so fucking carefully and slowly.

johnny's specialism is sports massage and works with a lot of young guys and gals, but he offers other types too. he comes highly recommend for someone looking for functional tips alongside their massage. he's chatty as all hell and likes to make small talk during sessions if the client is up for it. super welcoming and friendly, and everyone loves the accent. 

you find you love talking to johnny, because it just comes so easily. you're sure he does this with everyone but he's always asking questions, getting to know you. it's almost like you become friends, as he says you're his favourite regular. johnny jokes one time that he'd be heartbroken if you ever saw someone else, but you could never. now there's no one you'd trust for massages other than him. 

when you need physio, it's him you go to as well, even if he chuckles a little when you explain you injured yourself drunk, dancing on a table. 

it's a physio session where it all changes, you've been doing mobile stretches under johnny's direction, but he feels you need a little bit of extra stretching. 

you lay down on the mat as johnny scoots closer and takes ahold of your ankle. he rests his foot on his shoulder as he starts to push, and you're looking up at him with so much trust in your eyes. he keeps pushing you, and you give less and less resistance, until suddenly he's pressed against you--his hardness is pressed against you.

his eyes go wide as he moves away, and he's stuttering out apologies in an instant, worried about how unprofessional and inappropriate it is, assuring you that it's never happened before (he doesn't have a big fat crush on just any of his clients.)

it's then you climb atop of him, running your hands over his shoulders as you tell him just how flattered you are. johnny's got you bent over before you can say another word, stretching you out in another way.

kyle is a real hit with older women, they love their young boy toy masseur with the bright, gorgeous smile and bulging arms. a lot of them go to the same country club, and they all talk about gaz in this one circle of older ladies. his diary is always booked full, but he'd managed to squeeze you in late one night during the week, and you were so thankful.

he's surprised when you come through the doors, similar in age and not at all like his usual clients, especially the more outrageous or entitled ones. 

his voice is so soft and smooth as he talks you through the consultation beforehand, to the point where you already feel soothed and relaxed before he's even put his hands on you. he struggles with his attraction from the first meeting. 

his touch is always on the lighter side, which you find absolutely perfect, and the skin on his hands is so smooth that being rubbed by him is a dream. he likes to use heated oils and aromatherapy too, and sometimes you swear you fall asleep on his table. waking up after one of his massages, to his smiling, cheerful face and kind eyes makes you feel more rejuvenated than anything. 

one time when you're coming in for a session, you arrive earlier than usual and catch the tail end of his previous appointment. its one of his regulars, a particularly high-maintenance and touchy-feely woman, who despite being married is trying to come on kyle hardcore. you had planned on waiting outside respectfully, but marched in once you saw the discomfort on his face. 

in your session, you can tell he's still a little uncomfortable from the session, so you try talking to him throughout to take his mind off of things. 

you probably shouldn't have made a comment, or asked if he gets hit on a lot, but be laughs it off and says it happens a lot. his hand freezes on your calf as he admits he wouldn't mind as long as it were you--and you find yourself climbing off the bed and sinking to your knees to give him some relaxation for once. 

#simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #captain price #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #captain john price #john price #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick fanfic #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader

[sightofsea]

end of the year reclist

well!! the year is winding down and I read some good stuff on ao3. here are the highlights.

Good Omens:

Ut It Tempus (Or: Muriel's Wet, Wild, and Very Hot Summer Weekend) by Oatmeal Addiction

just recently read this one so it goes on the top of the list!! incredibly funny, great muriel character study, some of the funniest prose out there. it genuinely feels like you're reading a continuation of the book, which is just such a cherry on top of everything this fic has to offer.

a rarer height by @hyruling

this was the first fic I read post series 2 that scratched that itch i get for good go fic. the atmosphere it creates is lovely, like a little blanket to wrap yourself up in. the way it jumps back and forth through time is amazing. the characterization is so good--I'd been waiting for a fic where the way they fight felt natural and HOOOOO boy did this deliver like a swift kick in the nuts. absolutely a post series 2 classic.

puttin' on the ritz by @moonyinpisces

what can I say that hasn't been said already. it's funny it's hot it's glamorous they are so unbelievably stupid for each other it's amazing. I think about it every time I order a drink with a maraschino cherry.

Just Once More by NaroMoreau

TIME LOOP FIC!!!! that's all I can say. what a great character study and what a great means of utilizing time loops for character development. absolutely lovely.

Drinking Buddies and Diaries by dove_dove

on my life this is probably one of my favorites of all time. perfectly imagined series 3. perfectly imagined muriel and crowley shenanigans, perfectly bitchy aziraphale, with a wonderful small study on food symbolism to add to the cherry on top. lovely.

I'm the treasure baby, I'm the prize by stereobone

crowley works at a brothel and hypnotizes men into thinking they're having sex with him so he can therapize about aziraphale to them. that's it. that's the story. it's perfect

come as you are by fruitygoblin

this one made me cry buckets for very personal reasons but also I think it's a very good character study of aziraphale and it also does something lovey stuff with food symbolism.

Sherlock:

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords

I finally read this one after meaning to get to it for years (I love the author's other works) and uh yeah. yeah. great exploration of grief and somehow successfully makes things make sense after whatever all that was.

House:

Old machines by applecrumblecore

I love fucked up middle aged men and I love how this seems like a totally plausible way for them to get together.

Howler Tone by baffledbear

I love fucked up middle aged men and I LOOOOVE fucked up codependent self destructive tendencies displayed through impromptu phone sex. Or whatever.

Red Dwarf:

Learning to Lose by komodobits

listen. technically I read this last year and technically I made myself promise not to put any WIPs on this list. but it started updating again and also this fic was made for me. Its a blades of glory au and it's so deliciously funny and sucks you in so fast. it's crazy. I've pulled all nighters over it. it's literally the two stupidest things I love with all my heart smashed into one. it doesn't get better than this.

#fic recs #hiiiii for the love of god hello

[ss-skyearn]

Sugar Rush

PAIRINGS : Choi Yeonjun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT : 7.8k

GENRE : Angst, Smut, Fluff

WARNINGS/CONTENT : Fantasy au, multiple pov (yeonjun+reader), profanity (mild cursing), yearning, mutual pining (?), any more warnings and the storyline will be spoiled; it'll unravel as you go along. ♡

A/N : First time writing for TXT, so I guess this is my debut into moablr. Happy late Valentine's, lovelies. ♡

Just why are you the manifestation of temptation? Why does he desire you so? When he's never had you before… 

Or has he? 

Plush.

That's the only way you can describe this. This sensation.

Euphoria.

That's the only word for you to chronicle this. This feeling.

Elation of the unadulterated kind.

Ecstasy of the bonafide variety.

It's a feeling of fullness, of satisfaction, of gratification.

And all of that accomplished, merely by his presence. You can feel it. The heavy exhale of breathe right at the shell of your ear, the slow drag of his fingers along your curves, explorative, accustomed. Like he's done it a million times prior, like he's never done it before. Unlearning. Mastering.

"Play with me, sugar." A sultry whisper, a request, a promise.

It sends a tingle down your spine, back arching, body aching for more. Yet you force your eyes open, trying to make sense of anything that's not him. Given your state, it's not so easy a task.

Yet as your vision clears, you make out a black and amber sweater, the zipper down as far as it'll go, a plane of smooth skin on display. Looking over his shoulder, all you see is a whirlpool of colours. All kinds, vibrant persimmons, holographic blues, iridescent lilac, swirling and blending, converging together somewhere behind him.

It's hypnotic, looking at the whirlwind of hues, but even moreso, his voice.

"You're addictive." Silky smooth, dripping honey.

You zoom in your eyes on him, trying to recognize his features, his eyes, anything really, to know who he is. But all you see is blur, a pixelated mosaic at best.

You can make out everything in perfect clarity, everything except his face. The expanse of pigmented background, the countless variegated butterflies flying about.

Your eyes land on a magenta one, and it flies its way to come rest right on the convex bulge of his clavicle. But just as it makes contact with his creamy skin, it promptly disintegrates, disappearing with a puff, dusting his collars with even more sparkles.

You don't know where it comes from, this urge to lean forward and lick the glitter studs off his skin, but you make good on that impulse nonetheless, slowly dragging your tongue over his collar bone, savouring the taste of him.

He hums out in satisfaction, slender fingers tangling in your hair, not trying to move you around, just holding, feeling.

"Just like that."

You moan against his skin, trying to make out what he tastes like. You've had it before, this flavour of lust. Your tastebuds tell you as much. But you can't remember where.

Where have you tasted this before?

What is this taste, this flavour?

You move to his other beauty bone, and just as you know you're close to finding out what it is, you're shaken awake by a cool tinge on your neck.

Your eyes slowly fan open, and it takes a moment for you to blink through the tears staining your cheeks.

When had you started crying?

What the hell was that dream?

More importantly, where the fuck are you?

Suddenly wide awake, you snap your head around, looking at your surroundings. Grass and greenery abound, you're positively lost.

You remember being on the cruise a while back, but the vast stretch of water in front of you certainly doesn't look like the lido deck you were soaking in mere moments ago.

Were you thrown off the ship or something? As crazy as it sounds, that's the only possible explanation you can think of. But one body scan later, you conclude that couldn't have been the case. You see no surface injury, no indication of anything painful going down. You try standing up, expecting to at least wince a little after having been laying down on the sand in an uncomfortable position.

But nothing. Nothing at all.

One more full body scan and you find traces of dried up blood on your calves, still no sign of any wound.

Is this someone else's blood? But there's no living thing in sight for as far as you can see.

All you see is the vast ocean and the sand, extending as far as your line of sight goes, a row of bushes separating this piece of land from what lies beyond.

There's something eerily nostalgic about this place. It's evident in the way you know the trees are mulberry even before you catch the sweet waft of the ripe berries in the air that breezes past you, in the way you're sure the chameleon resting on the rock near the water will change colour once you touch it.

Intuition has always proven to be on your side, yet for the first time, you find reason to doubt it. So you take the few steps towards the reptile, extending your palm slowly so as to not scare it away. It hops on to your awaiting hand all too eagerly, much to your pleasant surprise. And true to form, the simplest of touches turns the dusky beige of its scaled skin to a wine shade of purple in a matter of seconds.

Your intuition was right.

But you feel no better, feel no sense of security at having confirmed the reliability of your sixth sense. Quite on the contrary, it's unsettling.

You know this place, have been here sometime ago, that's for sure, but have no recollection of it. Indeed, the sea is something you avoid being in the vicinity of at all costs, the water never failing to instil a sense of dread deep within you. It had taken a lot of cajoling- and bribery- on Taylor's part to even get you on the cruise, under the disguise of emotional blackmail.

"It's my Bachelorette."

"Can't you do this much for me?"

"You know it's been my dream since Love Island."

"Just don't go out on the deck and you won't even know you're on water, it'll be like living in a resort."

Endless arguments made, it was only a matter of time before you caved, the joyous squeal she let out more than worth the trouble you knew you would face when the time finally came to climb aboard. A small price to pay for her happiness, you thought back then. If only you knew how it would come back to bite you in the ass.

After pondering over it for a long while, you decide to see it for yourself, just what is it past the shrubs, what is this magnetic pull you're being dealt with.

Curiosity killed the cat, sure, but standing here, near the water in the mid winter freeze isn't doing you any favours, either.

So you move, seeking the gravity of the tug you're experiencing, like the sailor edges nearer to a siren, even with the smell of his demise prominent from kilometres away.

Only, it's not so much a demise that you're smelling. It's something entirely different.

Something mysterious. Something dangerous. Something delicious.

Something you're willing to risk it all for.

Sweet.

That's the only way he can describe this. This taste.

Arousing.

That's the only word for him to chronicle this. This sensation.

Titillating in every sense of the word.

Galvanising in a way he hasn't known before.

It's a sense of security, of safety, of reprieve.

And all of that accomplished, by your mere existence. He can feel your legs trapping his waist, body pressed against his. You slowly drag the zip on his sweater down, eyes fixated on every tract of skin you uncover.

"Come a little closer." Your voice is sweet, much like everything else about you.

His body moves before his mind does, coming impossibly close, the water sloshing about around the two of you.

"Let me help you now." Anaesthetic, that's what your voice is to him.

"Mm?"

You huff out a laugh, clearly knowing the effect you have on him, the power you hold.

Even if you didn't know, he'd never fail to let you know of it himself. How you have him wrapped around your finger, all yours to have.

He doesn't know why he feels the way he does. For all he knows, is that you're a haze. It's not that you're not real, far from it. He can feel your presence in every single one of his neurons, your touch setting his skin on fire, your breath claiming the attention of every one of his muscles.

But even so, he can't see your face, no matter how he squints, wills his head to stop spinning with want.

Your laugh is what breaks him from his reverie, and he gives up trying to figure out just who you are. For now.

"You just made me feel good, didn't you? My turn now."

As if on cue, his taste buds pulsate and almost suddenly, his mouth is filled with a sweetness he tasted moments prior. A sweetness he's never had before, but simultaneously experienced all the time.

He swirls his tongue around, trying to make sense of this absurd taste.

What is it?

Seemingly having noticed what he's upto, you break out into yet another laugh,

"It's okay, darling. You'll get more of me."

His face blooms red, shyness washing over him at having been caught tasting the remnants of you in his mouth. He lets out a squeak, burying his face in the crook of your neck, arms tightening around you.

You chuckle, "Now now," lacing your fingers with his and giving a squeeze. Your way of letting him know it's okay, that he doesn't need to hide, doesn't have reason to fret. He's safe with you. Secure. Free to be vulnerable, to let his boundaries down.

How he knows all of that from a simple squeeze of his hand, he doesn't know. The same way he doesn't know who you are, and why he trusts you with his life.

All he knows is that he does.

And that he doesn't question it. Not when it feels so right.

A sharp pang of gut wrenching pain that he knows all too well is what jolts him awake, stirs him from yet another one of his dreams. Of visions of a being so beautiful, he's never known the likes of. Of a flavour so sweet, he'd die- time and again- for a taste.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to calm down the thumping of his heart, the one he can hear all the way up to his ears.

That's when he feels the streams marked on his cheeks, down all the way to his neck.

This is a first.

He's dreamt of her before. He's tasted her in his dreams before.

But never has he cried like this. Never has his heart ached this much.

He swears he was able to taste it this time. This time, he promised himself that he'll remember it. But just like all the other times, it fizzled from his palate the moment he woke up.

It's frustrating, to say the least. He feels denied, deprived of what he deserves.

Soobin won't shut up about craving his lemon sherbet all day. Taehyun won't stop raving about how it's the best sorbet he's ever had the pleasure of tasting.

Beomgyu, Huening; they've all had their share of flavour a billion times over by now.

So why? Why is it that he's the only one that's left behind?

Why is it only him that doesn't know what his person tastes like?

"Good things take time." Is what Mrs. Yeon says. What she's been saying for years now.

But what does she know? Sure, she might be the community elder, the one to have the most wisdom when it comes to anything of the matter. But she's not the one yearning for someone who never comes, wishing upon every fallen star for someone who never shows up, aching for a taste that's not found in anything he tries.

And God, has he tried. The flavour lingers for a little while every time he wakes up, before it disappears from his memory. He's tried committing it to memory, finding it in anything and everything.

Perennials. Botanicals. Herbs. Drugs.

Grapevine is the only thing that comes the closest, but that's honestly downplaying it. It's near insulting to call her taste similar to a mere grapevine but it's a beginning, he supposes.

He almost fell face first into a chronic one-way paralysis trying to make up a concoction by infusing fernflowers with grapevine in an attempt to replicate her flavour.

He's been banned from the Aesculapian Estate ever since, barred from anything relating even remotely to phytomedicine.

But really, is he one to be blamed? He's desperate, rightfully so. Needy in a way he's never been.

Natives call him crazy, fixated, but at the end of the day, they aren't the ones wanting something they can't have. Wanting something they deserve, something their mothers' bedtime stories promised they'd have, something the community elders never failed to mention they would be rewarded with when the time comes.

It's unfair.

It's been years since he came of age. Years since he's been denied his mate. Years and years since he's been seeing everyone around him being paired up and skipping along merrily.

So, why him?

As he lies there, nestled among the outstretched net of tangled roots emerging from the trunk of the Bristlecone Pine tree, he feels it.

Again.

Reluctantly, he gets up and runs to the nearby pond. Aligning himself into the familiar position, hunched over, hands on the edge, he waits for what's to come.

It's violent this time around, the way his stomach squeezes, body convulsing, the breath being knocked out from his lungs.

Retching hasn't ever been something he objectively likes to partake in, but this is excruciating. As painful as it is everytime, it's never this bad. It feels like liquifying all the soft organs he has, coming out in the form of the pink, shining sludge he's seen one too many times before.

After what feels like forever, and for all he knows might as well have been, it stops, the temporary reprieve much welcome. And temporary it is, he knows it to be.

It's what, the sixth time today?

Two is the average, maybe three if the universe is feeling particularly cruel that day, but this is out of the ordinary, even for the level of brutality he's subject to on the daily.

Returning to the previous position against the trunk, he finds a semblance of normality, chest heaving a little slowly, head pounding a little less loudly.

For a reason unknown, the proximity of the evergreens has always had a calming effect on him, being the closest thing to a natural sedative.

He slumps back into the position he was in initially, the drag of bark against his back a welcome comfort, puts an arm over his closed eyes, attempting to even out his breathing.

He's not sure how much more of this he can take.

The further you go, the stronger the pull gets.

It's starting to get dark now and the range of bushes you crossed hours ago is nowhere in sight, lost somewhere in the late evening fog that's beginning to coat the air surrounding you, lacing it with a heaviness, making it a little difficult to breath.

Yet you move in a daze, empowered by this urge, that there's something, someone you're seeking.

You don't know what, or who, just that it's here, somewhere.

A faint whistling catches your attention, coming from somewhere towards the east. Its a sonic you've heard before, a note all too acquainted. It's calming and unnerving at the same time, and you're not particularly fond of the way it fails even your second sight, for you, once again, are doubtful of what is it exactly that's transpiring, every second you venture further into these forsaken woods setting off new alarms within you.

So, much like what you've been doing until now, you follow the unsaid attraction and move towards the sound.

You spot a curtain of string leaves hanging down between two thick tree trunks, violet beams of light peeking through them. Fireflies are buzzing and glowing all around them, seemingly attracted to the luminescence, the night properly pitch dark by now.

You trudge forward, reaching for the leaf garland and drawing it aside and a gasp leaves your lips.

The view you witness is something that puts any fantasy you could ever have to shame.

It's violet all over, everywhere you look. Violet leaves, indigo trunks, prop roots hanging off branches, touching the ground covered with equally purple sand. Thick roots emerge from the tree bases, entwining and curling together, forming a spiderweb on the forest floor. Some leaves shed from their petioles, swirling in the air, filling it with a flowery aroma, twirling and landing on the river. The water has a translucent lavender tinge to it too, moving in small eddies, echoing a gentle hum in the quiet of the night.

That's when you spot it, spot them, someone in the water, submerged save for the head that peakes out. Only the back of the long locks of hair is visible to you, but something within you tightens, and in the same daze, you approach the silhouette without thinking twice about it.

As he hears the sound of the slowly approaching footsteps, he sighs audibly, closing his eyes, getting ready for the blow to land. This is the time of the night when Boemgyu loves to come to him with his stories. Stories of how there's nothing better he's tasted, how much he wishes Yeonjun could have it too.

He knows he comes from a good place, he really does. But listening to him for hours on end, about something that he can't understand, is painful to put it mildly.

But it's through these conversations that he lives vicariously, the closest he gets to knowing what it would be like to finally get to have his mate, the one made just for him, and for whom he was made. It'd all sounded like a fluke the first he heard of it, like the stuff from fairytales; had he not witnessed it firsthand, seen with his very own eyes, he'd still refuse to believe it. He'd been better off not knowing, in all honesty. Sometimes peace of mind comes from being none the wiser, and if this is not the best instance he could apply that faith to, he doesn't know what is.

But the younger native he considers his brother doesn't let him forget it, makes it a point to remind him everyday without fail.

So really, it's a vicious requisite. A masochistic desire.

It hurts him to hear, but is the only salvage he gets to have for now. For however long into the future, until he's shown some mercy.

Even so, as the sound of the footsteps grows, the familiar nausea returns, the bile gurgling up his throat for the seventh time this day, rendering hours of water therapy useless.

He's suddenly on edge.

"Leave me alone, Gyu. I don't want to hear it."

Might be harsh, but he doesn't have it in him to be tactical with his words right now. With how things have been today, he's long given up on being pleasant. That can always wait for another day.

The stomps stop, but don't retreat.

"Leave." He sighs.

Boemgyu knows when not to push him, he knows when to press and when to leave, so the lingering doesn't make any sense. The sheer frustration in his tone would have been reason enough for him to realise that leaving him to his devices was for the best, the best for both of them, and for the tranquillity that envelopes the night. For Yeonjun when mad, is a sight vexatious. He isn't proud of it, but anger control has never been his forte, and considering all the times his anger issues have done him and his community good, he doesn't plan on fixing that aspect of him anytime soon. Sure, it might make him an unpleasant person for many, but it's his shield when needed, his unforgiving armour when other senses fail to be of moment. Beomgyu knows of this, so the stalling about is so unlike him.

Annoyed, he emerges out of the water, whipping around,

"Didn't you hea-"

And promptly stops dead in his tracks.

Gorgeous.

That's the first word that comes to mind.

He's gorgeous.

As you stand there, staring at what you would imagine an angel to look like, your heart thuds the fastest it ever has. A tinge runs down your spine, a feeling akin to a sugar rush coursing through your veins.

Standing in the water, invisible from the waist down, he's the most ethereal being you've ever laid eyes upon.

His jade black hair is wet, crimped and sticking to his forehead, some stray strands getting in his eyes, heavy water drops cascading down his sharp cheekbones, even sharper jawline. So soft, so silken looking.

It's weird how you know the way they would tickle against your inner thighs.

His heart-shaped lips, full and pouty, shining, dripping water. So wet, so inviting.

It's funny how you know what the plump texture would feel against your own.

His flexed biceps, lean and long, skin a fair butter tone. So smooth, so unmarked.

It's uncanny how you know what they would feel like underneath your fingertips.

You've been there, with him. He's been here, with you. Yet it feels as though it were a time no longer valid, or perhaps a time that never was.

He's beauty personified, and you are unwilling to tear your haze away for even a second. He seems to be of a similar mind, for he's been standing there, completely still and gawking up at you, unblinking. His irises restless in their orbits, the way they run in small circles within his pupils is testimony enough to the miles a minute nature of his racing mind.

Then suddenly he frowns, turning about completely, and begins making his way through the splashes, walking towards the shore. And as the water level goes down inch by slow inch, revealing more of his torso, you're a goner.

Body slim yet toned, lean muscles accentuating his morphology at just the right places, his beauty encompasses even itself as he reveals more of himself from under the water. He wears nothing but a thin vest, a poor excuse for clothing, shrinked even more due to being wet, sticking to his sides, honey skin out for you to marvel at. Well technically, not for you to marvel at, but you're going to indulge all the same. He's completely out now, swinging long limbs over the edge of the shore, bending a little, a silver spiked garland necklace clinking and bouncing against his chest. And oh, that chest. Broad and smooth, a far cry from being muscular, but still well defined, clean cuts marking and outlining his pectorals, buds mercifully hidden under the sides of the vest.

The glint from the overshadowing moon catches on the sparkles adorning his body, making him twinkle against the dusk. The gleam only brightens as he comes closer, with you now realising that they embellish his neck too.

Would they come off if you licked them?

Shaking your head, you force your thoughts to come to a halt, their intrusive nature a surprise to your dazed state.

He's a stranger, and by the looks of it, not a normal one. Normal humans don't shine, don't have sparkled necks. No matter how much you feel like you know him, in the grand scheme of things, you don't.

He's standing before you now, soaked cloth clinging to his laterals, figure on display.

One look into his deep chestnut eyes, and the sugar-like rush is back again, albeit stronger this time around.

It's familiar, the way you want to drown in those pools of honey, the way you know the pattern of the golden flecks scattered in his orbs. The kind of knowingness that comes only from years of studying, admiring, loving.

It's well acquainted, the way his plush lips part, the silky tone of his voice,

"Sugar?"

The words are as hesitant as they are shocking, even to himself. It's evident from the way his forehead creases, pouty lips taking on a downward tilt. He's just as baffled as you are, if not more.

"Is that your name? Sugar?"

You meekly shake your head no, even though every impulse is forcing you to agree.

"Oh."

"But it feels like it."

"Oh."

It's deja vu. A familiarity. A recollection.

You know that's not your name. But what you also know is that it belongs to you, the feeling of connection near immediate within your being.

How else would you describe the way your body reacts? The way your ears perk up at the mention, your tongue ready to hum out an affirmative.

It's not your name. But it's meant to be yours.

There's a moment where you both just stare into the other's eyes, standing still, the fireflies flying about, enlightening his face at different angles, casting shadows in different gradients.

But all too soon is the haze broken, and he's averting his eyes, looking at everything but you.

You fight the urge to take his face in your palms and force it back towards you.

He's a stranger, you remind yourself, ignoring every instinct saying otherwise.

A clearing of throat is followed by a quiet question, "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, I don't- know."

That sounds sketchy, you're aware of it yourself, but you genuinely don't know. And for some reason, you can't lie to him, don't wish to.

He doesn't seem fazed, just hums. If you were of a more sane mind, you'd find it odd how that was the first question he wanted the answer to, skipping the essential who are you and how did you get here. No, the wording he used, what are you doing here, as if already aware that your arrival was by your own will and knowledge, something that was expected to happen. If so, he couldn't be more wrong.

You know it's not your place to ask questions, to demand any explanation, but the way your heart is brimming with emotion, this feeling that you know him, you can't help yourself,

"What are you?"

His head snaps to face you, those chestnut eyes boring into you with intensity. Not the good kind. He's tense all of a sudden, almost defensive.

"Something you're not." He snaps.

You're thrown off by the bite, but despite yourself, whisper,

"I beg to differ."

The frown deepens, his gaze near burning.

He arches a perfect brow in question and scoffs, "I'd be careful on the bluntness, little one. You're in my territory, with no knowledge of who I am, or what was it that you said? 'What' I am."

He's trying to intimidate you, back you up in a corner, to seem domineering, but you know him to be none of these things. Despite his razor sharp features and tough exterior, his warm eyes give him away. He can play pretend all he wants, but you can feel the gentleness rolling off of him, and perhaps it's on a spiritual level that you feel it, because there's no other way you would have known that he, in effect, poses no harm, however much may he play the part.

"Wouldn't be so sure of that."

Now he just seems amused, the earlier irritation sublimed. His eyebrows rise again in silent expectation, prompting an answer.

"I think- I think I kno-"

You cut yourself off before the thought is said out loud. You're not sure of his reaction, of what to expect, when in total honesty, your own response to the thought said out loud isn't predictable.

"I think I've seen you somewhere." You settle.

The playful expression drops, eyes almost whimsical for but a moment, before his face takes on the neutral stance you'd found him in.

It's baffling, how quickly he changes expressions, his features almost trained to follow suit. Yet you know of this habit of his to be borne out of the need to protect, to self preserve. You wonder what had to have happened for him to adopt an outlook such as this. If you didn't know any better, you'd simply label him a lunatic with no emotional control, but you do know better- the reason for which still unbeknownst to you- and all it does is make you want to shield him from all that is vile, the sudden urge to protect this Adonis of a man running rampant.

He inhales a deep breath, and you assume it's to possibly calm himself- God knows you need to. Rolling his shoulders until his joints pop, he shoves his hands into his cargo pockets, sighs,

"How can you get back hom-," A pause, "get back where you came from?"

Not entirely sure about the reason for the need he felt to correct himself, you once again let your subconscious do the talking,

"No idea. Guess I'm staying."

Leaving a dumbfounded stranger behind, you've no clue where you get the courage to stroll right past him and towards the lake, comfortably seating on the edge, your legs crossed underneath thighs. You cast a glance over your shoulder and sure enough, the bewildered expression is still very much present, maybe even augmented now.

"You gonna keep standing there?"

He blinks, a gesture oddly endearing on his stone cold shell, titling his head to the side, confusion clear as day.

In the short while you've spent with him today, you've already decoded half of his workings apparently, for he says nothing, quietly making his way over, settling down next to you, as far away as the narrow bank allows. This is the way to tame him, you've concluded. Be unsure and he'll take it upon himself to act condescending, be assertive and he'll act not too different to a puppy, following along as instructed. It all feels too natural, taking the lead with him, not being fooled by his sham.

"So," You begin, partly to break the silence that's uncharacteristically taken over him, but more so because it's been bugging you more than you ever could explain, "who's sugar?"

He cuts his eyes in your direction, the heat back in those orbs, and you've got a snide remark ready at the tip of your tongue, having already predicted a reaction such as this- really, he's too easy to read.

Or maybe you've been reading this genre of his longer than you believe, and this is the past experience coming back in waves.

Or, you're simply reading too much into it.

Nevertheless, just as predicted, he snarls,

"No one."

And just as quickly turns away, bringing knees up to his chest, tucking his chin over them.

He looks not unlike a hurt soul masking under the veil of an arrogant persona, and no matter the displeasure he expresses, you can't find it in yourself to find reason to believe the front he puts up, the urge to 'take care' the only inclination overpowering you.

The dismissal too abrupt to have been a result of a thought-over notion, you don't believe it. Not for a second.

But you suppose you'll let it go this time, if only in favour of your own inner turmoil.

Maybe he's feeling what you're feeling too.

The desire to let your guard down, to let this complete stranger in, said desire engaging in a constant contest against preservation instincts.

"Who are you, then?"

It's delibrate, the reframing to your question, and if the laxing of his face is any indication, he registers it too, appreciates it.

"Yeonjun." He breathes, still not looking at you.

You echo your name too, mulling over whether to extend a polite 'nice to meet you' or something of the sorts, but deciding against it, realising it might come off absurd, what with the nature of your conversations uptill now.

The head he had nestled on his knees snuggles further down, and it's either your ears playing tricks on you or you actually do hear a whimper.

"Hey, you okay?" A tentative arm hovers over his shoulder, and you wonder if he'd really mind the comfort you so badly want to offer. If the roles were reversed, you know you wouldn't.

"Fine." He rasps, voice hoarse, his guttural confirmation more alarming than reassuring.

"But you don-"

You don't get to finish the sentiment, as he's suddenly standing to his feet, making a run for the small pond sitting right by the lake. And what you witness is more than enough to have your blood running cold. It's something all too personal, the way he coughs up a saje coloured semiliquid, the way you can see the energy being drained from his person as he spasms violently.

Without second guessing this time around, you run to the pond yourself, crouch down just behind him, run a soothing hand across the expanse of his back. The halting of his shivering is almost immediate, and it only serves to spur your movements as you begin shallowly massaging the muscles.

He slouches back, covers a hand over his mouth, grumbles,

"Changed fucking colours. Cute."

And yet again, you know what he means.

"Used to be pink, huh?"

This seems to have grabbed his attention, as he slowly turns to look at you. You find it perplexing too, how he could have been going through what you have for longer than you can remember, the retching a part of your daily routine by now. There's something bigger at play here, something tying you and this stranger together, something beyond your simple hunch of familiarity.

And this time when you are met with his big, glassy eyes, you find something you didn't before, something you haven't in years.

Ardour. Sorrow. Oddly together.

Not only is the strange mix of emotions familiar, it's familiar in his hue of chestnut, his champagne orbs, the amalgamation untypically unique.

You've seen this look in these eyes. Irrespective of how miscostructive it sounds, you know you have. You'd swear your life on it.

He seems to have been struck with something similar, for the newfound warmth in his eyes- something you mentally blamed him for hiding- is basically overflowing, his guard visibly dropping.

His lips part, release nothing more than a gasp, waver, then seal back. He's hesitant, not wanting to say it out loud, but you hear it all the same. Hear the unsaid endearment, understand the implicit elucidation to his apprehension.

"Can you say it again?" Your voice is a whisper, afraid to shatter this stolen moment of intimacy.

"Say what again?"

"Say my name again?"

He breathes out your name, eyes averting, a blush adorning the apples of his cheeks.

"No. My name."

He's confused for all of a second before realisation dawns on him, cheekbones burning a deeper shade of crimson.

"You mean-?"

"Just say it."

"But- but you said it wasn't your name."

A sigh of exasperation and eye-squeeze of annoyance is all the incentive he needs it seems, for he's fulfilling your wish all too soon.

"Sugar."

And all too soon is your heart thumping in your ears, the same rush coursing through your veins.

Why your body chooses to react this way is beyond you, but it's intense enough to have a deeper connotation than a response to a mere nickname. It means something more.

You know it does.

Have known all this while.

He turns to look at you, and from this up close, the sparkles catching the moonlight once again, he shines brighter than any star, any constellation, any galaxy.

He's your star. Your constellation. Your galaxy.

Your own escape, your angel.

Wait.

Your eyes trail back to the curve of his shoulders, searching for something you know is missing.

He follows your line of sight. There's a split second where you see the panic in his eyes, which disappears when he looks over his shoulders. If he thinks he's safe, he couldn't be more wrong.

"Show me."

It's not a question. Not a demand either, just a soft request, one he can easily decline, but made with enough conviction that tells him there's no way he's getting out of this one with a lie.

So he just looks at you, eyes drooped in acceptance, a sombre expression on his face,

"How?"

You know what he means, but you don't have an answer for him.

"How do you know?" He reiterates.

"I just do."

"Who are you, really?"

You smile at that, for you know the frustration he feels. You feel it too.

The knowledge that you know him, but don't.

The understanding that you know he has wings, but not sure how.

The awareness that you want him, but have no right to.

"Show me, please?" You disregard his question entirely, and he knows as well as you that it's a pointless one anyway.

So he gingerly stands up, backing away from you a little. You thought you were prepared; you overestimated yourself.

A fluttering sound echoes through the silent forest, and amidst the dead of the night, you experience a sight all too enchanting.

The same whirlwind of colours, of shades blending together, the same kind you witnessed in your dreamland not too long ago, is presented before you. Manifesting in the most beautiful pair of wings. The Blue Morpho doesn't hold a candle in the face of such gorgeousness.

Your dream hadn't been a fluke, you saw him in it. You saw his wings, felt his lips.

Once again, your eyes glaze over, heart splitting in two at the view. He's standing there, with tears of his own and you know why.

As if in a trance, you get up and run off towards him, stopping only when you're inches away, panting, out of breathe. And not out of the exhaustion at having made the spree, really there wasn't more than a few metres between you and him. But the emotion has engulfed you, your breath practically belonging to him in this moment, entering your lungs upon his command and his command only.

Your eyes trace his wings, from the arch at the top to the downward droop at the bottom, eventually trailing to his face, and ultimately to his lips. Those full lips.

You step closer still, hands cautiously reaching for his shoulders, going on your tiptoes to whisper against his plump lips,

"I'm sorry, but I really have to do this."

Strong arms wrapping around your waist is all the consent you need and in the next moment you are lunging for him, taking his lips in an all consuming kiss, even after trying your best to hold back, if only to not freak him out. It's no use now, so you let go, let your body react the way it does, let your subconsciousness take the lead.

His mouth is indeed as addicting as you imagined it to be, knew it to be. Your hands make their way up his shoulders to his nape, where you brush his hair and true to form, they're just as soft as you imagined, as you knew.

He lets out a groan in your mouth, tilting his head more, deepening the kiss. He's licking into your mouth at this point, tongue swirling around, sucking the essence right out of you, drinking it in earnest. It's not a kiss, it's so much more than that. It feels like he's ravishing you, tasting you.

A sudden tickling in your back makes you shudder, a feeling akin to having an ice cube slide down your bare skin. Goosebumps break all over you, and the familiar fluttering sound permeates the air around you two.

You pull back to gasp, shaking your shoulder blades. His wings are still there, the same they had been before, so what in the world was that sound?

You look up at Yeonjun to find him not looking at you, his gaze fixated on something behind your shoulder. You turn your head back yourself, only to be met with a carbon copy of those angelic wings somehow attached to your back.

"Wha- How.. What is happening?"

Contrary to your panicked tone, he's calm, almost delighted. That claim is proven right when he suddenly breakes out into a wistful smile, the tears making their way down his waterline.

"I knew it." He ducks his head, resting it on your chest, hands refusing to let go of your sides.

"Yeonjun, what is going on? I'm getting scared now."

His head snaps up at that, hands finding your cheeks, cupping and cradling your face with gentle care.

"Don't be scared, sugar. You're here now. With me. You're finally here." He chokes out the last words, clearly overwhelmed.

You frown, but don't question him, deciding to be patient.

His thumbs brush against your skin, caressing back and forth,

"Don't you remember me?" He gently whispers.

There it is again, the same question, the same vague feeling. You known him but you'd don't.

"It's okay," He somehow senses what you're experiencing it seems, as he doesn't push it further, "it's okay. Let me help you remember, yeah?"

And with that he's closing the distance between your bodies again, lips moulding against yours, whisking you away in a trance like state once again.

This is it.

This is the taste he's been dying for, time and time again. And to think he already had it before, once upon a time.

It's not a sudden downpour of memories that rains down to him, but a slow sprinkle, a calm drizzling, the kind that comes before a thunder storm.

And then it's a torrent, a gush of water, drenching him whole, making him lose his footing. It makes him dizzy but he'll have it any fucking day if it means he gets to taste you again.

He remembers you, remembers the time when you belonged to him, and he you. The times you spent together, near this very spring, tasting each other for hours on end. The times that he has now come to know of as the most peaceful and fulfilled. He felt content, whole.

Before you were snatched away from him, a you-shaped gaping hole left in his heart. Every single one of the memories you made together wiped, yet the hole never closed, never healed.

He always felt something in his life was missing, a last puzzle piece to complete him, a last drop to fill his glass.

And now, with your wings outsretched behind you, the same ones as his, he has found that piece of puzzle, that drop of nectar.

You taste just as he imagined. Like grapevines with an undertone of fernflowers.

A grapevine left untouched for so long, harbouring yeast on the surface. All he has to do is crush his lips against yours, and the grapes burst open, outer skin tearing, juices squirting out, fermenting with the yeast to form the richest wine to ever grace his palate.

The fernflowers that bloom for a period too short, for him only, his very own summer solstice, being fertile just for him.**

He remembers. And you're here with him. At last.

The only thing that's left, is for you to recall as well. It's going to be no difficult fate.

As he reconnects your lips again, pulling you impossibly closer by your middle, his wings wrap around your bodies, and just like every other time in the past, yours do too. With both your appendages curling over and forming a cocoon around your forms, he feels the security all over again, the one he wanted to revel in forever.

Too bad no one told him forever doesn't last as long as one thinks, but now that he finally has you again, he doesn't plan on letting go anytime soon, if ever.

When he breaks the kiss, your own tears have made their way past your jaw, wet eyes twinkling, reflecting the moon in them. For him, they are the moon themselves.

He softly thumbs them away, smiling through his own tears,

"Welcome back, sugar."

You give him a wistful smile, his own sorrow reflecting on your features. An underlying hope buried somewhere deep within the pain.

"Missed you." You mumble, scrunching your nose in a sniffle. It's something you always did back then, and everytime it made him wonder how it was possible for someone to be so cute, so precious.

Winding his arms around your shoulders, he steps forward, slotting himself against you, his face in your neck.

"I missed you more. I fucking missed you so much."

Hot wet trails run down your neck and you lovingly ruffle his hair, remembering how it always soothed his anxiety.

He stays like that a while, hiccuping and reiterating his saudade for you. After his breath evens out, and tears dry up, he pulls back, looking deep in your eyes.

"You know me, right?"

You huff a little, endeared by his need for confirmation.

"I do. I do know you, darling."

Darling.

That's what you always called him. That's what he's been unknowingly wanting to hear all these years. That's what makes him feel complete again.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is frantic, his excitement leaking through the words.

You don't give him an answer, opting to push at his chest and jump up slightly, wrapping your legs around his lean waist. It's the same, the way you fit over him, legs slipping into the curve of his waist. He knows he'll fit into you in other ways, too.

He can't wait to complete you, to be your last piece of the puzzle.

You lean into him again, sliding your lips with his, the soft sounds of moisture all he hears. As if on autopilot, his legs move of their own accord, side stepping all the hurdles, all while kissing you with his eyes closed, with a practised ease. And when your back hits the same Bristlecone Pine tree trunk he spent all day slumped against, he remembers why this routine feels rehearsed. Because to put it simply, it is. It's something he's done countless times before, carrying the familiar weight of you to this very spot.

Once there, he presses his body into you, his want eminent in the way it digs you in the thigh, his hands kneading the flesh. He feels himself getting lost in the pleasure, a throaty groan escaping him,

"Give me more."

Part 1 | Part 2

Main Masterlist

[The follow-up smut drabble will be posted soon. Send an ask if you wish to be tagged when it drops.♡]

**The fern flower is a magic flower in Baltic, Estonian and Slavic mythology. According to the myth, this flower blooms for a very short time on the eve of the summer solstice, and represents fertility. This theme will be explored more in part two to this piece.

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© ss-skyearn 2023. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works is not allowed.

#yeonjun smut #yeonjun angst #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fanfic #kpop smut #txt smut #kpop imagines #txt imagines #txt imagine #kpop scenarios #txt scenarios #txt x reader #txt fanfic #yeonjun fluff #x reader #my writing #yeonjun #txt angst #txt fluff #choi yeonjun smut

[beanghostprincess]

musician!sanuso au in which usopp is a very famous singer (by 'very famous' meaning: being famous in specific, indie circles but, yeah, famous. he has a decent amount of fans) under the name of "sogeking" and sanji (who thinks, by the way, that he's extremely straight) falls in love with him and his voice. important fact: usopp wears the sogeking costume, so sanji doesn't know what he looks like.

basically, sanji is friends with robin, and franky (her boyfriend) knows a guy (brook) that can get them all (luffy and zoro too) tickets to see this sogeking guy. sanji doesn't actually want to go, if he's being honest, but it's robin's idea so of course he says yes. the thing is- she- she likes weird music, alright? her taste is a bit different from sanji's and he isn't sure about spending all night listening to some guy whispering weird stuff into a mic with a bit of an 80s energy and dark undertones. but, yeah, robin asks, so he goes.

on the other hand, usopp only wears the costume because he's always an anxious, insecure mess, and refuses to let others know he's the one singing. the only thing his father left him before going away was a guitar and the guy can't even play it now in front of others. awesome. and he never really intended to become "famous", it's just that kaya, nami and vivi (he's childhood best friends with kaya and met nami/vivi in high school) told him to participate in a music contest and one thing led to another and now he has a manager and plays for a lot of people who actually want to listen to him. he isn't complaining, but he's glad he's wearing a mask.

so, sanji goes to see sogeking.

and it kind of, sort of, definitely changes his life.

he's glad zoro is already chugging his third beer and does not care enough to look at sanji, because otherwise he would see the complete blushing mess he's been reduced to while listening to sogeking sing.

he falls in love. it can only be that. he keeps telling himself that it's just his voice. that it doesn't mean he likes men. but he knows the feeling of love all too well to ignore the way his heart is pounding against his chest with the sound of the drums.

he's fucked. he knows he's fucked. it's not just a fan thing. fuck. he wonders if this sogeking guy kisses the same way he sings.

the night goes on and he's hypnotized by sogeking, but it doesn't mean he isn't having a fucking crisis. the last song is playing when one of his friends asks him what is wrong with him (he doesn't remember who it is, maybe franky) and those simple words send him over the edge. because no, he's not fine. and no, he doesn't like a man. and god, he definitely isn't in love with a guy he doesn't even know and would never recognize without a mask.

which is a funny thought, having in mind what happens next.

sanji storms out of the concert to catch his breath because this has never, ever happened to him before. he believes in love at first sight. he's a romantic, after all. but this isn't it. this isn't about looks or fate. it's deeper than that. he can't get rid of sogeking's voice still playing in his mind. so he ends up in what seems to be an alleyway in the back of the building, and anxiously starts to smoke like the addict he is. he said he was going to quit this... he definitely isn't now.

oh, but he misses the way sogeking finishes his last song and runs away from the stage. he feels he's going to throw up. too many looks on him. too much noise. too much pressure. not even nami can stop him before he ends up in the same alleyway as sanji, leaning against the door and taking deep breaths. in and out in and out in and ou-

and well. fuck. turns out he isn't alone because now the most handsome guy he has ever laid his eyes upon is trying to guide him through his panic attack, which only causes him even more anxiety. he wants to kind of die right now, because at least he'll die staring at an angel.

sanji, on the other hand, just has the need to help him because he understands how fucked up these things are. so he helps him through it. helps the stranger calm down until they can finally speak properly together.

usopp thanks him, sanji says that it was nothing. and usopp says something like: "i'm sorry you had to, uh, help me. it's just- sometimes crowds are just too much, you know? people expect so much from you sometimes and you just can't take it. there are so many people here. why? it's not- fuck. i feel so damn isolated sometimes. i- i'm sorry. you probably don't want to hear-"

to which sanji responds with: "no. it's fine. i understand. i think i do."

"really?"

"really."

their friendship starts with relieved laughs of understanding and a panic attack in an alleyway after the concert that changed their lives.

they exchange numbers for some reason. maybe it's still the rush of the concert a few seconds ago or the sogeking inside of him, but usopp is the one to ask him. sanji seems a bit surprised, but doesn't mind in the slightest to keep seeing usopp. it might sound cheesy, but the cook seriously thinks they were meant to find each other. friendships are weird all the time and he has always been very poetic, after all.

i'm not gonna bore all of you with what happens in between because this is just a random thought i had on my way home from work, but basically:

sanji and usopp become close. almost even best friends. and usopp is completely head over heels for sanji, so of course he will never tell him about being sogeking. not only because it's an identity only his best friends know about, but because it's embarrassing, and refuses to lose what he has with sanji for this. sanji loves usopp. they're practically best friends now! and- and, well, okay. he has to admit there's something between them that he can't put a name to, but it's more than an intimate friendship. and, somehow, he seems to never be able to let go of sogeking. so he never makes a move on usopp. he's stupid for being in love with someone he doesn't even know, but sanji is a romantic, after all.

there will never be somebody else. he keeps saying that. it's sogeking for him.

usopp is glad sanji is always busy when he has concerts, so that way he doesn't need to lie to him and cancel any plans! (the truth is, sanji goes to those same concerts all the time and usopp never happens to see him because sanji is always afraid of being recognized. in theory, nobody knows about him being so head over heels for the singer. his friends don't know he's there, either).

but one day usopp recognizes him in the crows (it was just a matter of time) and instead of getting all anxious and running away like he thought he would if this happened, he just keeps singing for sanji and only sanji. and if the cook notices this, he doesn't move from where he's standing. he's hypnotized.

long story short, usopp has a crisis because he doesn't know if he should tell sanji the truth, now that he knows he's a fan of sogeking. because sogeking is this cool superhero singer and of course sanji likes him. but would he like him if he knew who he truly is? so he refuses to say anything, even if the girls keep telling him to be honest. and sanji is having a whole crisis because he's extremely in love and they haven't even fucking talked (little does he know haha). and, besides, there's usopp too. he- he really likes usopp too, he realizes. romantically. it could be love, if it wasn't for sogeking.

and i'm going to be honest with all of you, i have no idea what is going to happen. but even if i knew i wouldn't tell you because i like it enough to be a fanfic and y'all are probably going to have to wait.

#okay so the friend groups are pretty much obvious but #zoro/luffy/robin/franky/sanji with established zolu and frobin #nami/vivi/kaya/usopp #funny thing usopp gets along with perona and uta bc they're a musical duo and he actually knows zoro and luffy but not much #zolu are ofc perouta's brothers #brook is a famous singer but like actually really famous #if you're wondering what type of songs sogeking plays just think about what if the front bottoms had cavetown lyrics #this is gonna become a thing someday #maybe #i don't promise anything #sanuso #black leg sanji #usopp #one piece

[darkdemeter]

— TEASER —

Material is subject to change in post editing.

“SIREN, BE BOUND TO ME”

Read it here!

A/N: Ahhh ha ha... demie did a wee oopie?? WHAT?! I love pirates and the whole golden age of piracy - I'm just a period piece addict - okaaay? So here's a teaser for it because I don't have enough Bucky stuff, he's just got a series happening right now, in which, part 2 is in the works, our beloved mafia Bucket Bucky hasn't been abandoned! P.S: if you recognise that the writing style is a bit different, it's because I have moments where I write like this and then... it switches off. So I'm trying to get into the habit of keeping it consistent.

Semi-dark! Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader

— READER DISCRETION —

Nothing majorly triggering? — Pirate. Bucky. — possessive Bucky elements — light hinting of reader being a sort of fuck toy — pet names! ("little Siren") — Wanda's got magic in this au — FYI, reader is wearing a robe, so she ain't butt naked for the crew — I think that's it?

Enjoy the excerpt!

—- not my gif, credit to original poster! -—

  Your gaze drops to the limb of his remaining flesh hand, the other limb itself brings an uncomfortable yet hazy familiarity, you dare not to look at it up close when in the awoken presence of his intimidating stature. Often you would question its being there and admire its raw and uniquely - strangely mystical - materials, when your captain lay beside you fast asleep. 

  Wrapped tightly over and under the callousness of his palm, the golden chain twinkles in the pale moonlight, the larger pearl at its centre holstered by binding gold and tinier pearls, beneath the gilded net a more refined shape of a pearl dances on its hook. 

  However, your mesmerised pupils flicker in an instant, brought to the attention of your captain awaiting your obedient answer. A noise is pitched in your throat with the answer but it dies swiftly before its deliverance. 

  Your vision focuses behind him, up near the ship’s helm, her fingers lace slowly in their hypnotic movement as the fabric of her scarlet magic is weaved together. A warning. You do your best to hide the distressed visage of fear, batting your eyelashes and brushing aside the death of your verbal response, you bow your body forward submissively to his that towers over you.

  When your lips touch his, he almost instantly devours yours in a hungry kiss, the soft caress of your fingers tracing the curves of his chest brings pride and lust to possessively reel you into him, your nude front colliding against the hardened wall of his own. 

  Your hands run their course of exploration up the swollen bulk of his arms until they find purchase and entangle themselves in his dark locks. His own hands ravage your body, kneading the flesh and slim muscle of your hips.

  He groans when you submit to his overpowering will, mouth parting to his eager tongue that shoots forward like a fired cannon, aimed to dominate you in every sense of the word. Your soft whimpers beneath him bring him unimaginable pleasure, the sort that drives him to seek it evermore, with no seeming end to his insatiable hunger for what is you; your entire being. Wolves are known to be ravenous beasts. It’s why he’s known by the moniker as the White Wolf. 

  His tongue fiercely dances over yours, swirling and his bottom teeth tease you by nipping your lip, earning a high pitched squeal from you. He chuckles, the sound rich and dark in its intention. Your core comes alight, burning hotly and the once cool air dissipates as heat courses through every vein and nerve in your body, your mind swimming in the ocean pools of his eyes. Eyes that at times are the only thing you need to be connected to the sea. 

  The prominent tent of his erected endowment presses against your stomach and lower abdomen. You finally pull away, however, in his caging embrace it’s not very far you’re able to move back. 

  “Wait for me in my cabin, little Siren,” he orders gruffly. Your mouth falls agape and you sputter in your rattled confusion.

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST

@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic

#female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fanfic #pirate au #pirate bucky #siren reader #teaser #dem's updates #oneshot

[soda-sparkss]

im not usually opinionated on aus, but. the hypnotic addiction au has one of the worst barnaby's i've ever seen so far. I literally hate him so much I want to put him in headfirst into a meatgrinder and feed his remains to the flies in a toxic landfill. I hope he suffers a despicable horrible disgusting painful death. I want him speared through the ass up to his throat and I want to hear him bleed and scream in agony as he slides down. I hope his hotdog orders are wrong for the rest of his sorry little life.

i made this post last year thinking "ph i shouldn't be so men about it" well im gonna be mean because i hate it i wilp jever stop hating it.

#there are more issues i ha\ve with the au #but i wont get into it #sorry for th\e violence #barnaby b beagle #barnaby welcome home

[steviestits]

Can you do the lost boys au and the cheerleaders au please.

Thank you so much for the ask! I felt you deserved porn since you've been helping me out so much, so I skipped ahead in the fics and wrote some.

Both of these are rated E and contain "vaginal" fingering, hypnosis, and dubious consent for the Lost Boys Mermaid AU and unprotected vaginal sex for the Cheerleader AU.

Lost Boys Mermaid AU: So... you know that scene in the Lost Boys where they're all sitting around eating Chinese food and David hypnotizes Micheal to see the rice as maggots and the noodles as worms? That's what this but more sexual.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though confused, Steve still came over as Eddie had beckoned him. He could feel the eyes of the other members of Corroded Coffin, an odd grin on all of their faces like they were sharing an inside joke. Steve tried to ignore them, especially as Eddie’s eyes locked onto his, making him feel as if they were the only two people in the room.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie began with a smirk, “how’s your pussy?”

Steve frowned. “What?”

Slower, Eddie repeated the question, “How’s your pussy?”

Steve opened his mouth to argue that he didn’t have a pussy, but Eddie was already sliding his fingers down into Steve’s pants. He hooked his fingers, and that’s when Steve felt Eddie press into something wet between Steve’s legs. The touch felt strange, except Steve couldn’t pull away as he maintained eye contact with Eddie.

As Eddie rubbed deeper, sparks shot through Steve’s head at the pleasure that he experienced simply through Eddie’s touch. A breathy moan escaped Steve’s lips, unable to stop it as Eddie pressed into a particularly electric spot inside him, which made Steve shudder with excitement. He started to rock his hips too, following the rhythm Eddie had set as more groans erupted from him, unable to control the noises he was making.

“Listen to you,” Eddie said, chuckling darkly. “You sound like such a slut, Stevie. Moaning so wantonly, even with the others around. Do you like it? Like everyone knowing how much of a whore you are when you’re riding my fingers?”

Words honestly escaped Steve, but he nodded in agreement. All he could really focus on was how good Eddie’s fingers felt inside of him, how great it felt to have a pussy. He forgot that he wasn’t supposed to have one, that Eddie’s fingers shouldn’t be able to be inside him. The only thought in his head were the ones that Eddie placed there.

“Do you want to cum, sweetheart? You want to let everyone know how much you enjoy this? How much you love having your pussy played with?”

Steve nodded his head eagerly.

“Then cum. Cum on my fingers. Show everyone what a whore you are.”

With a shudder, Steve orgasmed in an explosion of pleasure while his head went white. He continued to rock against Eddie’s fingers, humming as a pleasant warmth spread through him. Though his throat, also, suddenly felt very dry, as if he desperately needed a drink of water and skin felt too tight.

Peals of laughter sounded behind Steve, distracting him from the odd feelings that he’d been experience. Steve glanced over his shoulder and saw that the members of Corroded Coffin were keeled over laughing, as if something hilarious had just happened. It made Steve want to pull away from Eddie, only for the other man to pull him closer, flush against his chest.

“Don’t listen to them,” Eddie cooed to him gently. “They think hypnotism is funny.”

“Hypnotism?” Steve repeated.

That had Steve coming back to himself, remembering that he didn’t have a pussy. It had felt so real, though. As if he could actually feel Eddie’s fingers inside his wet heat. He could even still feel phantom pulses from inside his abdomen that remained after he orgasmed. The fact that Eddie could make him believe and feel such things should’ve scared him, but he was too addicted to him to back away now.

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

Omegaverse Cheerleader AU: Steve and Eddie used to go to high school together, but now, years later, Eddie is famous while Steve is an aspiring dancer. Eddie offers Steve the world if he let's him fuck him while Steve is wearing his old cheerleading outfit. Of course, Eddie isn't just going to be satisfied with that, wanting to take the omega as his own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gasping, Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders tightly as he thrust into Steve’s pussy. Steve had slept with several alphas previously, but none of them had been as big as Eddie. He could feel himself being stretched open to nearly his limit even though Eddie’s knot hadn’t even popped yet. This was definitely going to be an encounter that he’d be feeling for days, which only made Steve more excited and grind harder onto the cock inside him.

“Look at you, Stevie,” Eddie said, groping Steve’s ass through the fabric of the uniform. “What would the other cheerleaders say if they saw you taking the Freak’s cock?”

“How should I know? I haven’t spoken to any of them since we graduated.”

“Humor me, sweetheart. Talk dirty to me.”

Red colored Steve’s cheeks as he said, “Okay, I guess they would be grossed out that I stooped so low, but then they’d get jealous.”

“Why would they be jealous? I’m a freak, a loser. Isn’t that what you guys said?”

Before Steve could answer, Eddie slammed into Steve making him moan. Steve’s back arched while his fingernails dug into Eddie’s flesh, as he couldn’t stop the pleasure that was shooting through him. Not only was Eddie big, but he knew exactly where to hit to make Steve see sparks. The alpha hadn’t been kidding when he told Steve that his performance would leave the other breathless, not that Steve ever had any doubts.

“Eddie!” Steve groaned. “Oh, Eddie, there!”

Eddie grinned down at him, hips stilling, “You still haven’t answered. Why would they be jealous of you?”

With a pout, Steve whined, “Eddie... you know why.”

“Want to hear you say it, baby. Want hear you say why they’d be jealous.”

“Because- Because you have a big dick and know how to use it! Are you happy now!?”

“Ecstatic.”

Then Eddie leaned forward to capture Steve’s lips, pulling him into a bruising kiss with Eddie’s tongue forcing its way down Steve’s throat. Steve opened his mouth wide for Eddie, allowing him to push his tongue further in until it felt as if Eddie was trying to devour Steve whole. He could feel Eddie timing his thrusts with the kiss, creating an intense rhythm that had Steve panting while whimpering for more.

There was, also, a possessiveness about the way Eddie explored his mouth, like he was mapping out each inch of it while marking ownership as well. No one had ever kissed Steve in such away before now. No one had seemed so desperate to own him, to claim him, to ruin him for all others. He was used to feeling like a quick fuck, something to be used and tossed aside, not treated as if he was something worth keeping.

Such intent should’ve terrified Steve, and maybe a part of it did, but he couldn’t help being drawn to the idea of someone wanting him. He let Eddie draw him closer, let him thrust deeper inside him, allowing Eddie to have what he desired. The pace became rougher, but Steve didn’t fight, even going as far to grind his ass into the hand that was still groping him. Steve wanted Eddie to know that he could take him, all of him, and he wouldn’t resist in the slightest bit.

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #alex answers #wip wednesday #but on a thursday

[the-sky-queen]

Some facts about Niko!

@au-sonic-smackdown

- He has tachophobia, anxiety, AND insomnia. Poor kid.

- He has mentally regressed quite a bit and is now much more child coded.

- Niko has been exposed to Starline’s hypnosis so much, that he's essentially become addicted. He will sometimes seek out hypnotic visuals in order to calm himself down.

- It's very likely that if you try to tell him the truth about who he really is, he'll break down denying it.

- Once Niko’s "treatment" was complete, Starline placed him in a remote village called Oakside, where he was supposed to live an ordinary, unimportant life for the rest of his days.

- In Oakside, Niko met Maple the Red Panda, along with the rest of the "Bakery Gang": Prince the Black Bear, Andromeda Clark, and one last character we haven't introduced yet. :3

- Maple is Niko’s mom friend and we love her very much.

#Sky Queen #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic AU #Tachophobia AU #Tachophobia Expanded Universe #Nikolai Peterson #Dr. Starline #Maple the Red Panda #Prince the Black Bear #Andromeda Clark #Sonic OCs #au sonic smackdown

[megarax-ponyo]

⚠ Overdose and abuse ⚠

I think this time, Barnaby went a little overboard 💀💀

#meganixart #barnaby wh #welcome home au #hypnotic addiction au #wally darling #wally drawing #tw drugs #playfellowxxx #tw toxic relationship #wally au #welcome home wally #wally welcome home #my art #hypnoticaddictionau #barnaby b beagle #tw overdose #my stuff #welcome home barnaby #wally x barnaby #welcome home puppet show #my artwrok #dark welcome home #tw abuse #barnaby welcome home

[welcomehome-fan35]

#playfellowxxx #Meganixart #hypnotic addiction au

[roxxeatzgravel]

I’m going to KMS if I see that G O D D A M N Hypnotic addiction AU one more time /j

#roxx’s rambles #welcome home

[rivalriotrenegade]

BatFamily Monster AU! Pt 1

Hello everybody and welcome to my Batfamily Monster AU where I mostly just write for Jason Todd. Anyways I’m just going to start this off by telling you what everybody is. 

Bruce is a purebred vampire, duh! I mean bats? Come on man, could you be any more obvious. One of the things that make him super powerful is his ability to turn into literal smoke.  

Dick is also a purebred vampire. Just one of the many reasons everyone refers to him as “the golden child” His specialty is to hypnotize people. He’s got a natural charm to him that is already working to his advantage so that just makes him all the more dangerous to criminals. He’s great when the Batfam needs someone to go undercover and/or seduce someone. :)

Right from the get go Jason was born an outcast! He was born a werewolf-demon hybrid. Werewolves and demons already have a very bad reputation as being animalistic and bloodthirsty so being both at the same time was not helping his case. As a child he got into a lot of fights over his lineage and it didn’t help with his ‘breeds’ reputation. (Idk if being resurrected makes him part zombie too?) 

Tim is a ghoul. Think tokyo ghoul only Bruce found a human meat supplement so he doesn’t have to eat human meat. (This also explains the coffee addiction.)

Damien is also kind of shunned for being a vampire-demon hybrid. Not as disliked as other hybrids but still has to deal with a lot of people whispering behind his back, especially with his dad being famous and all. (Talia is a succubus and Bruce a vampire. So yeah.)  

Barbara Gordon is a witch and her father is a human. (Her mother was a very powerful witch) 

Cassandra is a demon. A very antisocial demon so making pacts is her weak point. 

Stephanie is a very playful hunter. She didn’t agree with what her father was doing (killing ‘monsters’) and she ended up warning people that her father was going to try and hunt them. This is what led her to meet the Waynes and getting her tidal of ‘the spoiler’. 

Kori is still an alien princess. :)

Roy is kind of a mutt in this world? He’s part werewolf because he can change into a wolf but no one really knows for sure what else he is and any blood tests come up inconclusive which is very strange. But there’s a sneaking suspicion that he’s part gremlin. It’s honestly an inside joke that's not so far-fetched. 

#Batfamily #Batfam #Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #bruce wayne #Bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson #Dick grayson x reader #Tim drake #Tim drake x reader #Damien wayne #Damien Wayne x reader #Cassandra cain #Cassandra cain x reader #Stephanie brown #Stephanie brown x reader #Kori #Roy #DC #Monster #Monster x reader #Werewolf jason todd #demon jason todd #Vampire bruce wayne #Vampire batman #Redhood #Werewolf redhood #Nightwing #Nightwing x reader #Redhood x reader

[softhued]

Hindsight

warnings: nsfw, dark content, noncon/dubcon, drugged reader, drinking, college au

word count: 4k

Despite what everyone told you, you found yourself sprawled beneath him with your thighs pressed to your chest. Barely contained whines and gasps slipped from your lips as the man between your legs continued to plunge into you and push you utterly past your limits.

Your thoughts clashed and battled for attention, making your mind a mess of unfinished ideas as you struggled to piece them together. The thrumming in your veins and the heat that overtook you aided your thoughtlessness and left you incapacitated.

“Fuck,” you breathed out while your hands clambered and sought after something to hold. In their search, ruffled sheets grazed your fingers, and you instantly gripped them for dear life.

Above you, you felt Shigaraki slowly pull out, only to enter you again, pressing inside and refining his reach. Your walls maintained a vice-like grip as you allowed him to take control of your body, and slowly your eyes fluttered open, feeling weighed down as you looked upon the person pleasuring you only to find his gaze locked on you. His scarlet eyes were clouded with lust and intensity as he committed the image of you to mind so he would never forget as his hips repeatedly pressed against yours.

Your pussy clenched around him involuntarily, begging him for more. Overcome with immense pleasure, you reached up, pulling him down into a kiss and panting into his mouth as he stimulated you beyond belief. 

You didn’t want this to end.

You were in a trance, hypnotized by the feelings he bestowed on you, which weakened your defenses with each press of his tip against your walls.

The pleasure was mind-numbing, addicting, and all-consuming.

He was all that surrounded you. All you could think about. Everything.

Was he as affected as you?

You could hardly breathe, gasping and panting against him desperately, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to say no to him again after this.

You couldn’t believe how euphoric you felt as you spread your legs wider to accommodate him. The slick push and pull sounded as your arousal aided his movements.

The warnings bestowed upon you that plagued you just a few days ago vanished into thin air with each press of his hips, leaving no traces of them.

You were notified about Shigaraki’s unsavory behavior from the start. Everyone knew he was an entitled child who often got what he wanted, and this time he happened to want you. But, the entire ordeal could’ve been avoided if you had only acted accordingly. Shigaraki was accustomed to having people bend to his every will without much effort. But you had too much pride to fall at his feet like everyone else. So, you treated him like a normal person, not thinking much of your actions.

Before, you’d only ever heard of him and his behavior but weren't able to put a face to the rumors, and oddly enough, he was a recluse which you thought didn’t align with his assertive personality. And based on the accounts fed to you, you conjured an image of the infamous Shigaraki in your mind.

Much to your surprise, he was the complete opposite of what you depicted. He happened to be attractive, which made you pause, and you might have stared a bit too long the first time you crossed paths, getting an eyeful of his white shoulder-length hair, darkened eyes, and the permanent scowl etched into his face, along with scars that seemed to enhance his beauty.

You were drawn in, intrigued even. There was something about him that was enticing, but despite his attractiveness, you still weren’t too enthused about stroking his ego. You couldn’t fathom why everyone didn’t just stand up to him. Of course, you heard the rumors about his violent past, but there's strength in numbers, and one person reining over everyone was ridiculous. If everyone banded together, they could put an end to his power. However, the fear he invoked in them was enough to keep them complacent.

So, you bit your tongue and followed suit.

You only interacted with him when necessary, which wasn’t very often, although you happened to share a class and were seated next to each other, owing to your professor.

And it was just your luck that your mutual class had a seating chart that placed you right next to the infamous Shigaraki Tomura. Throughout the class, you saw firsthand the influence and power he held which was oddly arousing. With one simple command, he had everyone, except you, following his wishes, professors included.

The moments when his commands flew over your head infuriated him, and the irritation that consumed him was like no other. Anyone else would have responded accordingly, but not you. Everything you did got under his skin, making him claw at his neck until he drew blood.

What irritated him most was your attitude. How you acted as if he was insignificant, like you were above him, constantly looking down at him with distaste, but he knew how to take you down a peg.

Despite sitting by each other in class, he never spoke to you, opting to talk to his followers instead, but it didn't bother you. It simply made it easier for you to interact with him as little as you could. But often, you would catch him giving you a death stare, causing a shiver to run down your spine before you broke contact. And every time, you were the one to look away after meeting his eyes.

He smirked at your reaction. Even if you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew who held the power between you.

Then suddenly after class, when you were packing away your notes, Shigaraki approached you. A few students lingered, waiting to see the events unfold, but he shot them a look, bidding them goodbye before they hurried off. Now you were alone with him, which made your heart race. You wanted to show him you were unfazed, but in the back of your mind, you knew that he could do whatever he pleased to you and no one would interfere, which only exacerbated the dread you felt.

You longingly looked at the door, your only chance of escape, before returning his gaze.

He didn’t greet you as he simply started speaking, addressing the reason for the conversation, and emphasizing the power imbalance.

“I wanted to invite you to my friend's party tonight," he stated, staring you down as if he was begging you to decline his offer.

Why was he inviting you?

You suspected he didn’t like you, yet you were receiving a personal invite to a party which confused you more than ever. The thought of spending time with anyone who willingly chose to be Shigaraki's friend made your stomach churn. You didn’t want to go, but how would he react? So far, you were able to get away with toeing the line but telling him no. The possible outcomes didn’t seem too pleasant.

He called your name, drawing your attention after you zoned out.

“My bad,” you apologized after realizing you hadn’t replied to him since you were too invested in your thoughts. “I’ll see if I can make it,” you responded, not making any promises that were likely to be broken. Also, it was better to let him think you would go than to tell him no.

“Well, I’ll be waiting for you,” he stated, not taking his focused gaze off you as he moved to leave.

Alone, you sighed a breath of relief, gathering your bearings before rushing to your apartment. Your roommate wasn't home, and you desperately needed to talk to them. As you waited for their return, your anxiety only increased since you were left with nothing but your rapid and frantic thoughts. You couldn't wait any longer without confiding in someone and decided to send a text.

Quickly, your fingers typed up a long paragraph filled with the events that transpired and rambling. Shortly after, you received a reply, but it didn't contain the answer you were hoping for.

You were advised to attend the party, even if only for a little, to avoid worsening the situation. Deep down, you agreed, but you had a nagging feeling warning you not to go, and one thing life has taught you was that your intuition was rarely wrong. But, if you didn't go, you would be screwed. Your absence would be the ultimate slap in the face, especially after he invited you personally.

You knew you had to go, but you didn’t want to go alone. You wanted at least one person there to provide you with much-needed support since you were walking into the lion's den.

Maybe you were just being paranoid? What if he only wanted to ease the tension between you? Right?

Begrudgingly, you went to get dressed, throwing on a mini-skirt and the first cute shirt you could find. You gave yourself a once-over in the mirror, sighing as reality settled in.

It was now or never. And if you waited any longer, you would psych yourself out.

Once you arrived at the party, you could see packs of people entering, giving you a sense of relief. It seemed unlikely that he’d be able to spot you in the crowd. You followed behind the groups, hoping that you’d see someone you knew so you wouldn't have to be alone.

LED lights illuminated the house, casting a glow amongst the guests as you searched for someone familiar. Luckily, you stumbled upon a few classmates from your study group and decided to stick with them. You were surprised that you were enjoying yourself as you danced to the music blaring from the speakers.

You should’ve come to one of these parties earlier.

You excused yourself to go to the restroom, and once you exited, you were greeted with the sight of Shigaraki.

Your eyes widened as you stumbled upon him, only now remembering why you were so anxious before. You controlled your emotions, not wanting him to know that he made you uneasy, but he caught that small crack in your facade, smirking at the brief flash of fear that crossed your face.

“You enjoying yourself?” he asked, eyes taking in every inch of your body before meeting yours.

“Yea, I am," you replied, wanting nothing more than to leave his presence and return to your friends.

Silence filled the space between you as you rocked back and forth, working up the courage to excuse yourself, but Shigaraki beat you to it.

“Let’s get a drink," he stated, either missing or simply ignoring your discomfort.

“No thanks. I don’t want to drink too much,” you politely declined, hoping that you were putting an end to the conversation.

He watched you since you entered, so he knew you didn’t have a drop of alcohol in your system since you arrived, but that was going to change.

“Come on. One drink isn’t going to kill you,” he playfully coaxed.

You've never seen him as anything but stoic, so this was a nice change, and the pleading look on his face made you weak against his proposal. So, you succumbed to his wishes and followed him into the living area before he left to get the drinks. Following your return, you noticed that the party was emptier and your friends were nowhere to be found. To occupy yourself while you waited for Shigarki, you pulled out your phone to update your roommate.

In no time, Shigaraki returned, handing you a red solo cup, and you thanked him while accepting the drink. You conversed with him and babysat your drink, not liking the bitter taste. Throughout your conversation, you marveled at how easy he was to get along with as he kept surprising you.

A few minutes after finishing your drink, you started to feel off as your mind started to fog. You weren’t a lightweight, so one drink shouldn’t have been enough to have you feeling like that.

A puzzled look crossed your face, and Shigaraki guessed that the drink was kicking in. His dick twitched at the events that were to come, barely able to focus on the words coming out of your mouth. That was easier than he thought. You willingly walked into his house and accepted a random drink from him, giving him free rein. All the while failing to acknowledge the room steadily growing emptier and emptier.

“I'm gonna go to the restroom,” you said unsurely, eyes half-lidded as you struggled to piece together a simple sentence. You attempted to maintain your composure until you reached the restroom. You locked the door behind you and quickly rushed to the sink, splashing water on your face to sober up, but the damage was done.

Something was off, and you knew Shigaraki had to be behind it. Your body felt warm and was growing hotter by the second, and you could barely hold yourself up as you leaned against the counter. A knock on the door startled you, “just a second,” you called back, sounding far away to your own ears.

You can do this. You just have to make it back home, you assured yourself.

You made your way back to the living room, seeing that the remaining stragglers had left while you were away, which left only you and Shigaraki.

“I'm gonna head out," you said, already making your way to the door before you were truly rendered defenseless. You turned the knob and pulled the door open, only for it to be slammed shut. The sound was extremely loud to your sensitive ears, making you jump. With your back to him, you took a few deep breaths to steady yourself as your strength started to fade.

Your time was running out.

You turned to face him, leaning against the door for support, and looked up at him as he towered over you.

“Where you going?” he asked, tilting his head in a show of faux innocence.

“Home."

“Already. It’s still early,” he stated with a sly smirk as he carefully watched you.

“I'm really tired, so I should just go,” you stated, hoping against all odds that your act wasn't penetrable.

“It’s not safe for you to be alone this late at night,” he persisted, but you were safer outside, by yourself, than you were with him.

“I promise. I'll be fine."

You attempted to reopen the door, hoping he’d let you go, only for him to shut the door once again, sealing off your escape route before he turned you and pressed you against it.

“You can stay with me. I’ll keep you safe," he leered, leaning over you as he allowed his words to graze your ears.

"I promise," he finished.

His soothing words did nothing but fill your stomach with dread as you mulled over your options. If you weren’t getting out through the door, you had to find another way before it was too late.

He grabbed your hand, pulled you towards the stairs, and led you in the direction of what you assumed to be his room. You risked jerking your arm from his grasp, which only caused his grip to tighten. As you continued to approach the door, your fidgeting became more frantic in hopes of him loosening his hold. Due to your wild actions, he exerted more force, dragging you until he reached the door before pushing you inside.

He closely followed behind and locked the door after he entered.

“Don’t do this,” you pleaded.

“I promised to keep you safe, so if you just listen, I won’t hurt you, but don’t tempt me," he threatened before his patience was depleted.

Tears pricked your eyes at the surrealness of the situation, and the room started to spin around you as the brunt of the drink took effect.

He started to advance towards you, and in return, you took small shaky steps back to increase the space between you. But you only brought yourself closer to his intended target as your legs bumped into his bed frame, causing you to stumble back clumsily. With his help, you were pushed onto the bed, and your back made contact with the pillowy mattress that sucked your body in. You tried to backpedal as he leaned in closer, bridging the distance, but you couldn't get your limbs to comply as he hovered over you and enclosed you in his arms.

"Be good,” he cooed, situating himself above you and leaning down to reach your neck, placing soft kisses and sucking on your sensitive flesh.

You tried to pull away from his persistent lips as everything around you came crashing down. His lips branded your skin, and you felt every graze, press, and kiss. It was all too intense, but your body felt like a ton of bricks weighing you down, and acute concentration was needed to get your limbs to follow your brain signals, which was too complex for your current state.

He adjusted your body, moving you further up the bed so he could lay between your legs, grinding against you as he continued to assault your neck. You felt yourself growing aroused from the pressure of him rubbing against your pussy. Each roll of his hips cemented him closer to your body, suffocating you and permitting you to feel the heat and desperation behind his actions.

“Shigaraki, stop," you begged, but he was lost between your legs, rubbing against you desperately. You tried again, hoping to appeal to him. "I won’t tell anyone."  

“Now, why would I do that when you’re leaking for me? I see through your little facade, you didn’t want to submit to me because you wanted me to make you, but it’s alright. I'm here now," he chastised, truly believing every word that fell from his lips.

Despite yourself, your clit throbbed in response at his words and the constant stimulation.

He removed your soiled panties and skirt to give himself full access, spreading your legs until you were embarrassed at the lewd position he secured you in. His arms wrapped around your thighs, rooting you in place as he dipped his head down and latched onto your clit, messily sucking and slobbering on you.

Weakly, your hands went to push his head away despite the surprised moan that escaped you, pulling at his hair to hinder his movements. You couldn’t take it, and if he didn’t stop, you’d be putty in his hands, so you deliriously worked to remove his mouth from you.

Your struggling wasn't nearly strong enough to succeed, but he grew tired of your fidgeting and stopped his ministrations to grab your hands and force them down by your sides. Once you were restrained, he lowered himself to your dripping hole, lapping up your arousal while making eye contact with you.

His tongue urgently explored your folds as if you’d disappear any moment, savoring the taste of you on his tongue as you writhed beneath him. Time seemed to drag on as he kept edging you and intensifying the pleasure he was responsible for. With a cluttered mind, you nudged your hips against his face trying to reach your peak.

He brought one of his hands down to finger you while sucking your clit, curling his fingers and making your back arch. Your pants grew louder, and all you could focus on was the thrumming in your body. He felt your clit throbbing against his tongue, you were almost there, the pressure steadily building until he pulled away completely, leaving you sporadically clenching around nothing. You whimpered at the loss, feeling empty and hollow.

He laughed at your displeasure, “what, you wanted me to stop, didn’t you?

Your blood was boiling, and you felt too hot in your skin. And, the only thing that could sate the feeling burning you from the inside out was withheld from you. You needed an outlet to quell the tension, so your hand went down to your swollen clit, and your fingertips barely grazed your flesh before your wrist was enclosed in a tight grip.

“Who said you can touch yourself?” he sneered, “if you want something you ask nicely.”

You couldn’t believe that he wanted you to beg for him to touch you after he initially forced himself on you, furthermore, you were disgusted with yourself for debating whether to follow his command. Begging your abuser, your brain supplied, which made your stomach lurch. You pushed that thought aside and decided to focus on the present.

You sat up as much as you could, looking at him pitifully.

“Please.”

“Please what?" he antagonized, needing to hear you admit your desires.

“Please touch me. I need it. I need you,” you pleaded and blamed your actions on your inebriated state.

He smirked, taking pride in your obedience, "see how easy that was," he teased.

Before his comment could register, your attention was drawn to him removing his clothes. Your eyes focused on his erection, he was a perfect size, a good combination of length and girth, and you knew he was going to stretch you out, and you couldn't wait, nearly salivating at the thought.  

You followed suit, undressing and revealing yourself to his hyper-focused eyes. Your legs opened to welcome him, and he settled between them, grabbing your chin and forcing your lips to meet his. He leaned into you closer, overwhelming you with his commanding demeanor as you tried to keep up with his demanding mouth. His tongue roamed your mouth and took control of you.

While devouring you, he pinned your arms above your head, flaunting his power and authority over you and showing how your strength paled in comparison. Then, he pulled away from your mouth, letting you catch your breath.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he panted, freeing his dick, and stroking himself while watching you, spread out and waiting for him.

The anticipation in the room clouded the air, and you couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. Your cunt leaked, begging him to take you and to blow out the burning ember.

You watched as he nudged his tip between your slit, gathering your juices and rubbing against your winking hole. He spread your legs further, lifting your hips to align himself with your hole, and pressed in, causing your mouth to gape as you released a breathless moan as his tip pried your velvety walls open around him. You were so pent up, and his pace was tortuous from how slow he was inching himself into you. You couldn’t take it. You needed more to scratch that insatiable itch.

“Fuck me,” you panted.

You felt him twitch inside you, “don’t start crying when it’s too much," he condemned like he wasn't equally as needy, if not more.

He pulled out and slammed back in, pressing against your sweet spot and making your back arch. Your head lolled back as he fucked you into the mattress, and you rolled your hips against his fucking him back enthusiastically.

You were a lost cause. Anything he wanted, you’d give it to him willingly.

Frenzied energy encompassed you as you worked in tandem to reap the most from each other, and the drag of his dick inside you, moving in and out, had you in a blissed-out state.

“Shigarki-” you panted, clawing at his back, “you’re so deep."

You looked down at where you were connected, watching him re-enter you after pulling out. Strings of your arousal kept you connected even as he pulled out.

His ego inflated at your disheveled appearance and you giving yourself to him.

“You’re taking me so well,” he cooed, resting his forehead against yours.

You lifted your head to kiss him, moaning into his mouth as he ground his hips into yours. He reached between you rubbing your clit, and your eyes rolled back.

You didn’t want this to end, not when it felt this good. His fingers rubbed you more frantically, using your arousal to assist his quick pace. You felt yourself clenching around his length, milking him for all he had. The build-up was incredibly intense as you begged him to go harder, needing a push. His incessant pounding against your sensitive nerves, along with the stimulation on your clit had your body tensing as you came. Noises escaped you as he fucked you through it, continuing to rub your clit as your body twitched and spasmed. You creamed around him, making a mess of the both of you.

He pulled out to prevent himself from cumming too soon, rolling you over onto your stomach, and you weakly lifted your hips for him. He pushed back in, making you grip the sheets at his extended reach. In this new position, he hit all the right spots, which made your legs shake at the constant stimulation.

When it became too much, you tried to get away from the pleasure, only for him to pull you back towards him and impale you even deeper. You choked on your breath, your body feeling weak and drained as you let him have his way.

“Be good, and stay right there," he commanded, and the brainless part of you complied, wanting to please him so badly. His pants got heavier as his pleasure built up, and he pulled out before he came, slotting himself on your ass while his tip oozed. You slumped down onto the bed, too exhausted to maintain your position, while Shigaraki went to get a towel to clean you up as you drifted off to sleep, completely spent.

He smirked at your dazed body.

He might’ve not been able to get you to submit to him in the same way as everyone else, but having you submit sexually was even better. He knew this wasn't the last time he fucked you, and he would ensure it.

#tomura shigaraki x reader #tenko shimura x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw drugging #black reader #college au #mha smut

[meepmemez]

Now that I got every design done for the main cast, time to get back to work on the SSSSSuper AU! This'll just be a list of their super powers because I don't feel like drawing today but still wanted to do something under the cut :3

Cuddles

His super powers consist of two main things: Super speed and super hops! Extremely helpful for him to get to his friends faster and confuse the bad guys! He's one of the weaker heroes, but Splendid sees major potential in him!

Giggles

Her super powers are similar to a fantasy princess! She can hover temporarily with the flow of her dress! Her kisses can also be deadly and can temporarily hypnotize the baddies into doing whatever she wants!

Toothy

He isn't much, but what he does have can shake up the battlefield! Literally! His tail is the strongest on the super island! When he slams his tail (and butt) on the ground, he can cause a small earthquake and cause the ground below to crack! His teeth are also just as strong, as they can munch right through material as strong as steel! His singing voice is also powerful enough to break minds if he puts his heart into it, but he hasn't realized it yet!

Petunia

Much more of a pacifist than a fighter, she has a form of chlorokinesis made for healing and cleansing others! She is incapable of self defense, but always carries around pepper spray and can use her plants as a getaway ride should danger arise!

Flaky

Her powers only active whenever they are anxious! Her spines become much more sharp, able to shoot out of his skin, regenerate, pierce hard surfaces, and are extremely hard to break! When he's not anxious though, he has night vision!

Nutty

His powers can only activate if he's eaten a piece of candy, which is why he constantly carries them around (and because he's addicted to sugar too)! He has super speed and an extremely strong stomach and teeth that can digest anything! His claws are also ridiculously sharp, cutting through and climbing up any surface! His weakness is black coffee.

Sniffles

This one should be obvious! An extremely high IQ! An IQ of around 5,000 to be exact! He uses his smarts to improve island life and build weapons to enhance the arsenal of his own and others (for a price)!

Handy

No, he still doesn't have arms sadly. HOWEVER, he has telekinesis! That's how he was able to work for so long despite the lack of hands. Also his skull is made of metal so his headbutts are absolutely going to break anything. The perfect battering ram!

Flippy

His powers are fairly simple. Super speed and super strength! He's the weaker of the two inhabiting his body, but he's fine with this reality!

Fliqpy

Now this is where shit gets real in the body he resides in. Not only are his powers enhanced when he's fronting, but he also gains smarts as well! He also can drink blood to heal up too. He loses all of his charisma in exchange, but no one wants to be close to this mad man... right?

Splendid

Honestly, what powers doesn't he have??? Super speed, laser vision, flight, frost breath, super hearing, and more! He's everything that the other heroes aren't and more! He's seen as THE hero of the island! Which explains why he's the head of it as well. Still weak to kryptonut tho.

Spendont

His powers are extremely similar to Splendid's! Some people even entertain the thought of them being siblings, which entertains the blue squirrel more than the red one. He's way less known than Splendid however due to his very few appearances around the place, but when he is seen in public, it's either going to be hectic or hellish.

Mime

His mimes become real! Like an invisible box around someone, a set of stairs leading to who knows where, or imaginary instruments! He can also clone himself as many times as he wants, BUT his powers get weaker the more it spreads to his clones. He wants to become a town hero one day, but in order to do that, he must learn to master his craft!

Disco Bear

His powers are very situational. He has the power to mind control people! However only whenever they listen to his music, which makes his parties absolutely the best! You just need to sign the waiver first before you enter his night club on the evenings he's performing... Does not having a heart attack after eating fried butter count as a super power btw?

Pop

Cub

In exchange for smarts, he can create forcefields for the folk he cares about most. Unfortunately he can't create any for himself and they can break after enough damage. Other than that, he has a little bit of pyrokinesis in his blood, but it's not strong enough to cause heavy damage.

His powers haven't fully formed yet, so it's a chaotic mess of what he can do at the moment! So far he's been recorded to shapeshift, spit acid, attract bad luck occasionally, breathe underwater, and/or have a very, very accurate aim!

Lammy

She can speak to inanimate objects/animals and they can talk back to her! She can also tell how you're feeling from just a glance, even if your face remains monotone! She's incapable of self defense, but she can lead her animal army against you, so just hope she only summons tiny creatures that don't have viruses and sharp teeth/talons!

Russell

He is a simple man trying to live a simple pirate life. Whenever he goes underwater, he turns into a merman and can breathe underwater! He's much better at combat whenever he's under the sea since he can actually move swiftly!

Mole

Lumpy

Ever since his acting gig that exposed him as a hero, he's leaned heavily into his agent role, finally using his powers extensively. Invisibility and disguises on the fly alongside super hearing and super reflexes to dodge enemy gunfire! However, even invisible/in disguise, he's our favorite blind and mute critter.

He is literally a walking talking metronome (as in the Pokemon move). Whenever he tries to activate his powers, it's always something random that will probably at least hurt everyone around him. Sometimes he gets the bad guys and sometimes he puts his friends in the hospital. However that doesn't set him back, he still believes he's a superhero!

Shifty

He has the midas touch AND super strength! Anything he touches with his bare hands turns into gold, making him suspiciously rich! He wears gloves so that he doesn't accidentally make his black coffee turn into liquid gold (does not taste good). He also can lock pick anything if that's a super power.

Lifty

He... He actually has none!!! Isn't that shocking in an AU made where EVERYONE is supposed to have powers? Well unfortunately not Lifty. He and his bro were both transported to the island because the agents there couldn't tell the difference between the two so they said fuck it and sent them both. What is powerful about this second hand man however is his jealousy.

Truffles

Teleportation. Yeah that's pretty much it. He doesn't use it to fight, but uses it to get away from conflict and observe people from afar as if they're living in his world.

Cro-Marmmot

Everywhere this block of ice goes leaves behind an ice trail! He can also speak via telepathy to anyone he wishes to. Otherwise it's good ol Cro-Marmmot from back in the day.

#small artist #small art account #happy tree friends #htf #writing #HTF SSSSSuper AU #AU #superhero au #htf cuddles #htf giggles #htf toothy #htf petunia #htf flaky #htf nutty #htf sniffles #htf handy #htf flippy #htf fliqpy #htf splendid #htf splendont #htf mime #htf disco bear #htf pop #htf cub #htf lammy #htf russell #htf mole #htf lumpy #htf lifty #htf shifty