#just lay low for a few weeks/months and yet he’s kind enough and likes us enough ti actually share his free time with his fans

[nicoscheer]

#okay but like Miles really needs to add content warnings cause I wasn’t mentally prepared for that pic when I opened his story #miles kane #23/08/2023 #our turtle king enjoying his well deserved free time in Italy #also when I saw that video I was kinda expecting him to just start talkin Italian out of the blue #puglia #we are forever blessed with his insta stories #also love the reflection where we can see that Miles too clutches his phone in both hands when taking a selfie 🥹🤣🫶🏽 #also chest hair and that god forsaken gold earring 🫠🫠🐢🐢💅👌🏽🫶🏽 #god bless him for bringing back his beard #the utter accent change on that focaccia #i adore him for taking us with him on vacation like he absolutely didn’t have to he did his promo work diligently posting and could easily #just lay low for a few weeks/months and yet he’s kind enough and likes us enough ti actually share his free time with his fans

[moonydustx]

warnings: mention of pain/migraines (period-related), mention of wanting to have children (but no mention of pregnancy). Law is a great boyfriend and doctor, as always. Completely self-indulgent since I've been feeling sick for the last week and had to hear the doctor laugh about it. Okay, I think that's enough for here.

You hated these days. You hated having a uterus and having to deal with all the problems it brought. You also hated the idea of ​​wanting to have children - perhaps in a hypothetical and distant future - and this prevented you from getting rid of the organ.

You wanted to feel like other women, some cramps, mood swings and that was fine, but every month a few days before your period it was the same pain that went through your head. If it was your uterus that hurt, you would just ask him to remove the organ for a few days, but what do you do when it was your brain?

Feeling the first pangs, you immediately dropped your task, Law would understand the case. You took the small card out of your pocket and left it hanging next to the groceries you organized. It was an easy way to communicate on bad days, since talking out loud hurt enough that you chose not to speak.

Walking at a leisurely pace, the images around you became colorful blurs and even with just a few minutes between the start of the pain and the current moment, you already felt your head throbbing. Opening the room shared with Law, you felt around the dresser and found the pills, swallowing them without water. Afterwards, your body found comfort in the darkness of the room in the sheets that even covered your head.

I took the day off. Tomorrow, I'll be back.

Law tapped his fingers over the card. He always kept a calendar to keep track of these days and the card you had drawn by hand was just a trace of the little agreement between the two of you for when the day was bad with the problem he hadn't yet found the perfect remedy for.

Passing through the kitchen and his living room, Law picked up what little was capable of improving his situation. The closed door and the silence and darkness of the room indicated that it was another one of the crises.

"My heart?" the cute nickname used on rare occasions reached your ears in a whisper. You knew that Law was too rational for that kind of name, calling you that showed how much he loved you - and in that situation how worried he was. Law struggled to close the door without any noise. You knew he was next to you when you felt the bed dip. "How are we with the pain?"

"I took my pills, but it still hurts." your low, broken voice hurt him more than you could notice. It was frustrating for Law to be a doctor but still not have found the ideal solution.

"Babe did you eat?" your mumble in denial was the answer he already suspected. "Okay. Let's at least have some water, okay?"

He supported you to sit down and, still being held by him, drink the glass full of water that he had brought.

"Good job." he whispered, laying you down again and using the sheets to cover you once more. "I left here some more water and a den den mushi, straight to my room. If you need it, just call and I'll be back here."

"Thank you my love." The words left your lips when Law placed a small kiss on your shoulder.

As much as he wanted to stay there and hold you, wait for you to get better, he knew that taking time for you to be still and silent was the best option or at least the one you chose. He also knew that when you wanted, you would definitely seek his help.

The hours of that afternoon dragged on for Law, while for you they passed a little faster. Although it didn't completely help with the pain, the medicine gave you equivalent sleep for the whole day. Waking up a few hours later, the first thing you reached for was the other water your boyfriend had left there. Emptying the glass in a matter of seconds, you stopped to understand how you felt. Some of the pain had eased and you could see clearly now.

Feeling for the door, you soon found the handle and opened it little by little, letting the light invade the place. Blinking a few times to adapt to the light, you went to where you imagined finding your boyfriend. Sitting at the table, stacks of paper stacked in front of him and an apparently hot cup placed in front of Law, focused on whatever the task was.

"Come in." he answered the two knocks on the door you gave. When he raised his face and came across your figure, his face immediately softened. "Hi babe. How are you feeling?"

"A little better." the firmness in your words reassured him. "Can I stay with you for a while?"

"No need to ask." he dragged the chair back. "Just turn off the light and get cozy." he opened his arms.

Following his brief orders, it only took a few seconds for you to be cuddling up to Law, letting your face hang under the back of his head.

"I won't disturb you if I stay here?" you looked up a little, watching him adjust the small reading lamp on the table.

"Never. I'm glad you came, so I can at least take care of you a little." he spoke still in the same low tone he had used previously. "Unless you want to go to our room."

"Do you mind if I sleep here a little longer?"

"It's okay my heart. Just let me know when you need something, okay?" His hand remained on your back, making a light caress. "Love?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry I haven't found the solution yet." Law's regretful tone almost revealed that all the papers on his desk were about possible treatments, possible surgeries, possible solutions to a small problem that managed to leave you like that, hurt and vulnerable.

"No problem. " you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. It was frustrating and brought tears to your eyes knowing that even if tomorrow or the next day you woke up well, in a few weeks you would be visited by that torment again. "I love you for at least trying."

"Please, don't cry." as if he could read your mind, Law asked immediately, pulling your face to look at his and finding your eyes on the verge of tears. "First, it's going to make it hurt even more and second, I promise I'll find something."

"Or..."

"No, I'm not going to put your brain in a jar of formaldehyde." Even with the entire dark environment and being physically impossible, Law could have sworn that the light laugh that escaped your lips lit up the entire room. "Just rest, my love. Tomorrow, if you wake up better, we can go up to the surface, get some sun and think about more solutions together, okay?"

"Or can we just eat chocolate and read together?"

"Whatever you want. Now rest, my heart, you deserve it."

#trafalgar d law x reader #law x you #law x reader #one piece

[mysteriesmuse]

Kirishima and the Washing Machines

You lived in a pretty large apartment complex about 150 residents in all. And yet, somehow, you always found yourself using the washer and dryer after this one individual. Every. Time. 

And you now what, they never remember to clean out the lint tray after they’re done.  

You sigh through your nose, inching out the door of the lint tray and seeing a very full cage. Reaching in and deftly scooping it all up in one hand and dropping it into the trash can without second thought. 

Whoever this person was they had the most ridiculously long and lacking hair care routine ever. Seriously, 5-6 inch long firetruck red hairs that were coarse and fried to hell littered your clothes now. Probably because said person never emptied the lint tray after their laundry so now their hair littered your own wardrobe. And this would naturally urge anyone to choose a different washer and dryer out of the apartment laundromat. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, it just seemed that whoever this person was seemed to read you mind — move laundry machines with you, so you’d given up.  

Subjected to a life of dyed red hair in all your clothing. A lifetime supply of lint rollers in hand at all times.  

And in Kirishima’s defense he was a busy prohero — but you’d never seen him in the apartment complex, much less seen him patrolling the neighborhood in order to make the connection.  

Although he’d seen you — only a handful of times though — over the past few months of living here. He thought you were pretty — the kind where you have to mentally acknowledge a strangers beauty just because they are so attractive.

Except for today. 

And You were having a good day.  

You’d hit massive stroke of luck to this week to find that this red-haired person and your secret domestic enemy hadn’t been to the laundromat before you. You couldn’t be more pleased as you sat down on one of the lobbies padded chairs. Content with sitting and reading your book as you waited for the little chiming song of the washer and dryer to alert you that this batch of clothes was free of a strangers weird hairstyle. 

And you were ready, sliding back in the chair, tittering your hips, slipping your finger between the fresh crisp pages and into the sweet spot where your little impromptu receipt bookmark lay nestled next to the spine — a perfect morning.  

you’d gotten through that euphoric breath part of the process before the awkward spinning doors to the complex blew open and you’d dropped the book into your lap — staggering in was a beefcake of a man.  

It was the first thing you noticed, and how could you not? The stranger was shirtless and only clad in a pair of worn joggers that bear the emblem of the most famous hero producing highschool — hung snuggly around his hips, but just low enough that you could see the elastic of his boxers peaking out. And up from there was the defined muscles of his abdomen, not full on bread rolls, but a smoother definition and one that fit him nicely. The slight healthy layer of fat smoothing over the man’s defined and sturdy trunk — which lead to a completely hairless chest — a conscious decision. And then his arms were huge like the rest of him, but had a very strange reverse farmers tan to them. Another conscious decision?  

You didn’t even make it to his face before he was already in the room — and he took up space.   

somehow you found the conscious effort to close your mouth when he turned in your direction flaming locks of hair reaching his broad shoulders. 

Beefcake had noticed you as soon as he had walked in. The gorgeous h/c woman. And he could see the whites of your eyes and the pink of your tongue from the door. 

He flashed you an award winning smile full of sharp canines before awkwardly tugging on a few small strands near his face. The book in your lap now open to a random page, a receipt lay fluttered close to your feet.  

Kirishima chuckled, deep and low, bending down on one knee to hand you the receipt that’d been flung out on the ground from your shocked stare — yeah, that was a perfectly normal reaction he got often as a pro.

 “Sorry to startle you, beautiful. Here’s your bookmark,” he said, holding it out to you. You blinked back surprised before taking it back from his outstretched hand rather stiffly. He could see a crinkle between your brows as you seemingly took in every single detail about his face — tongue prodding the corners of your mouth as you did so.  

You were not, in fact, openly checking him out as much as Kirishima was secretly kind of hoping — a reaction he would naturally have gotten fairly often since you presumed he was a hero of sorts with his build and those flashy alum joggers.  

No — you were busy studying his hair: eyebrows, eyelashes, stubble, the whole lot. All of it thick and black — unlike the hair on top of his head, but similarly matching with the sometimes atrocious roots on those long hairs from the laundry machine.  

“Aha—“ you thrust out the hand with the reciept and waved it in front of Kirishimas face. “It’s you! My laundromat enemy — you’re the guy that always forgets to empty the lint drawer!”

Kirishima blinked back at you crossed eyed. A vague recognition of what you were taking about slipping past his eyes like a montage. He couldn’t remember a single time where he emptied that lint drawer, now that you mentioned it. He swallowed thickly

“I — I, how? How do you know it’s me?” He garbled. 

You shoot him a pointed look that reminded him of his best friend, “You really think there’s that many other people around here with hair like yours?” You hummed, gesturing to his still damp locks. You answered for him, “yeah, me neither.”   

Kirishima was shocked at your certainty, but he was also pretty certain that you were absolutely right. He gulped nervously, adams apple bobbing in that thick neck of his. 

of course he had luck like this, upsetting the beautiful woman in the apartment complex before he’d even meet her. You called him an enemy. A domestic enemy — he was supposed to be a hero! 

He started, “Look . . .”

“Y/N” you supplied. 

“Look Y/N,” he said, noticing the way you perked up more at his use of your name. “I’m really sorry to have bothered you by forgetting to clean out the lint in the dryer. There’s no excuse for me forgetting, or actively ignoring, that in a communal space. That’s really un-neighborly of me and I promise to actually take the time to do it from now on.”  He finished, hand strapped across his heart like a knight of old making a pledge to you.  

he watched as you slowly uncrossed your arms and tapped at the cover of your book. Your eyes of some beautiful color — that he would commit to memory if you looked up at him, stared down in your lap.  

He put placed his hands on the side of the armrests, pleading with the best puppy dog eyes he could give, “anything I can do to make it up to you?” Practically begging. 

you looked up, ahh so they were e/c then.  

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, nose wrinkling. 

He seemed genuine, and charming and polite, but he was large and intimidating — and in your personal space, “you do owe me quite a handful of change in lint roller money.”  

Kirishima grinned, that he could do. 

“How about I take you out — this time, next week. There’s a really cool bookshop cafe on my patrol route. I’ll come by and pick you up.” He noticed your hesitation, a worrying shimmy closer to the back of the seat and away from him. He removed his hands from the armrests and reached for the wallet in his pocket, “— we could just walk then, if that’s not comfortable for you. Or you could meet me there. Here see, Kirishima Eijirou prohero alias Red Riot.”  

That caused you to relax and lean forward, as you examined his hero license.  

He really was a hero. You were already pretty sure with those UA joggers, but it felt good to know you were right. One that wore an oddly terrifying dog-muzzle? You glanced back up at his strong jaw littered with a stiff 5 o’clock shadow. And surely enough there were faint lines of pale skin surrounding his mouth and just under his eyes that confirmed the weird existence of this accessory. Again, what is with the fashion choices here??

You raised a brow, “Ever think this is a little unusual for a hero?” You asked pointing at his ID.  

Red Riot glowed like his namesake. “I thought it was cool back in highschool — now it’s part of my image.” He chuckled, a hand touching at the place where it would be.  

you wondered what that would feel like having that cage against your skin all the time — surely uncomfortable.

Kirishima wondered if you’d consider yanking him by those bars to bring him into a kiss. Metal clanking on metal as the pretty ring on your finger gripped around the edges of its frame. If you’d be a woman he could come home to after a long mission and be fall into lovingly seering embrace like some of his pals. . . 

Clearly two very different trains of thought going on here, but Eijirou was always a hopeless romantic at heart and nothing but a gentlemen. 

He heart leapt into his throat when you placed a cool hand against his forearm with a little conformational pat, “I’ve got work next week, but I’ll go ahead and meet you there.”  

He grinned standing up to his full height and pocketing his wallet, face morphing as a realization dawned on him. He quickly scrambled for his phone, “I — wait you don’t have my number and I haven’t even told you where it is. And it’s pretty far, so I don’t think you’d know it — because it’s all the way in Fatgums district and —“  

and now you were laughing at him. Kirishima tucked a thick strand of hair behind his ear as he looked down at you — washing machine songs lighting up the atmosphere.  

“Actually I do have your number. We — apparently — live on the same floor, Kirishima.” You snorted holding out your phone with the familiar floor group text that he was apart of. A ridiculous dorky contact photo of himself as Crimson Riot as the contact photo he send in the chat.  

Plus Ultra! Forget red, crimson — he was scarlet right about now.  

“Ah right . . .”  

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you waved, “you’re much cuter in person. Ya know, for a laundromat menace.”  

Kirishima scratched awkwardly at his chest which was hardening there randomly — oh wait nope, it’s because he heart was thumping a mile a minute and he was on a mad adrenaline rush right now in the middle of the apartment complex lobby bc was talking to the beautiful stranger of his complex. 

You rose from your chair and stood in front of him, book clutched to your chest. 

the only thought running through his head was don’t move. And you watched as this handsome young pro hero stood stock still — every muscular plain of his body becoming rock hard and just towering over you.  

the chimes started up again. 

“Uh excuse me, you’re kinda blocking the entire door?” You giggled. 

In a flash this Kirishima was hardening even more and now you could clearly see a set of abs in the early morning dim lobby light as he stepped further into the elevator so he wouldn’t be crushed — although with that quirk you think the elevator might take most of the damage. 

Now he was too cute.  

And as he backpedaled into the elevator you could hear him audibly sigh with relief as the sound of your book pages started flicking. 

“Kirishima—“  

he looked down, the apples of your cheeks light and bouncy — such a pretty little smile on your face, “you should really invest in some conditioner.”  

And the last you saw was a sliver of a grin and framing tan lines from that muzzle/cage looking mask of his. He beamed staring at the space you were in before the doors closed, a blissful whisper as he realized he was replying to an empty elevator, “yeah I do.”  

#mysteriesmusing #eijiro kirishima #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #mha fanfiction

[claymorexpunisher]

Just Drink… (18+ One Shot)

Pairing(s): Drew McIntyre/Fem. Reader

Summary: Part 1 of the 30 Days of Smut series. Inspired by Queen of the Damned.

Tags: 18+, blood drinking, slight blood play, biting, vampire/witch pairing, exhibitionism.

Word Count: 1,257

WrestleMania week was always a wild affair.

It was one of the only times that us wrestlers were really able to get together and just chill out and be ourselves.

And with drafts usually taking place months before, causing some of us to be separated, things tended to get a little… crazy.

But tonight definitely took the cake.

Drew had invited a couple of us over to his very large hotel suite to celebrate the start of a very exciting and hectic week and we all happily obliged…

~~~~~~

‘’Oh.’’ I whispered to myself after stepping into the suite and saying ‘hello’ to Drew.

He was wearing a simple black shirt and jeans and yet still, the sight of him along with the scene in the room threatened to make my knees buckle.

The ‘’chill’’ gathering was in full swing and I had to force myself to stop gawking at all the naked, writhing bodies spread around the spacious room.

People sinking their fangs into each other’s flesh and drinking languidly.

Some of them were grinding against each other in slow, rhythmic moments along to the low beat coming from some speakers off to the side.

I heard loud moans and grunts coming from the bathroom and it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on there…

‘’What the hell’s goin on? Is it a full moon or somethin’?!’’ I thought to myself, only to realize I had said it out loud.

Drew laughed at the shocked expression on my face, but he quickly became concerned.

‘’I think so!... Look, I can tell everyone to tone it down if you’re uncomfortable, love. I swear I didn’t plan for this to happen.’’ Drew murmured, pulling me off to the side and covering the raunchy scene with his large figure.

But I shook my head and waved him off, stepping further into the room.

This was so out of my element, but I had heard of gatherings taking a scandalous turn in the past and I had to admit that I was curious.

Very curious.

Drew and I settled on an unoccupied spot on the large bed and watched our surroundings and talked to each other here and there.

We talked about what some of the couples in the room were getting up to and about other things like his upcoming WrestleMania match against Big E for the WWE Championship.

But I couldn’t help but notice how tired Drew looked.

‘’I’m surprised you’re even hosting this tonight. You look exhausted.’’ I murmured, turning on my side and laying closer to him as he did the same.

Drew let out a soft sigh, resting his head against his palm to look at me better.

‘’Yeah, it was a bit of a long day. But,’’ he smirked, ‘’thankfully it seems that everyone is occupied enough.’’ He laughed and I responded in kind.

Inevitably I let my eyes wander back to the pairs who were feeding from one another and something in my core tightened deliciously.

I felt my face heat up and before I could stop myself, I turned my attention back to Drew.

‘’Hey, D… do you… do you want a little pick-me-up?’’ I asked, turning my wrist face up.

He was shocked at my offer, to say the least.

But I saw the way his tongue flickered out to lick his lips as his darkening eyes zeroed in on my wrist hungrily, and the tightening in my core only grew more intense at the thought of him drinking from me.

Witch blood tended to have a sweeter taste than other types of blood, especially to vamps.

Some vamps would go as far as to say they could easily become addicted to it, so I knew I was pushing certain limits, not only for myself but for Drew as well.

‘’Are you sure?’’ he asked me, raising a brow.

I nodded with confidence.

Drew was one of the few men I trusted and pretty much everyone in the locker room knew there was some intense feelings between us.

We didn’t exactly care to hide it, though we’ve never made a move to take things further.

But this has nothing to do with that.

I was just letting him feed on me.

Big deal.

But the second he gently took my wrist and sank his fangs into it, I knew I was kidding myself.

I grimaced at first as his fangs pierced my flesh, but before I knew it, I felt warm and tingly all over.

I sank further into the pillow beneath my head and let him feast, smiling at the hungry grunts and slurping sounds coming from his throat.

I felt a thrill at the way he seemed to come alive as he drank from me.

Knowing I was responsible for the energized look in his eye made me feel unmeasurably powerful.

‘’Fuck… I needed that.’’ Drew sighed blissfully, falling back onto the giant pillow next to mine.

‘’Good?’’ I asked, smirking at the satisfaction all over his features.

Crimson red liquid coated his mouth and beard and I instantly thought he never looked sexier than in this moment.

‘’Not nearly enough. But we wouldn’t want you to pass out. Would we love?’’ Drew responded with a teasing look in his eye, making me let out of a soft giggle.

I gave myself a few moments to regain my strength and for the blissed-out fog in my head to clear up.

Then I hiked up my skirt a little and I took one of my sharp jet-black stiletto nails, and carved Drew’s initials against the tender flesh of my inner thigh.

We both watched, mesmerized as my blood began to pool against my skin and the crimson liquid began to flow down my thigh.

I watched Drew swipe the pad of his index finger against my thigh and bring it to his lips as if he wanted to savor the taste.

Looking at his initials carved in my skin seemed to bring something primal out of Drew, and my head and moaned loudly as his fangs sank down once again into another spot along my inner thigh, right next to my handiwork.

I had had a few sexual partners in my lifetime, but this was unlike anything I had every felt, and Drew wasn’t even inside me!

We were making a mess, but we were too wrapped up in each other to give a shit.

My eyes finally fluttered open once again as my body writhed in pleasure while I watched him drink from my tender flesh.

I didn’t think it was possible, but my arousal only climbed further as Drew began to smear my blood along my leg and licked his bloody palm as if he couldn’t quite get enough.

‘’Fuck, that’s hot…’’ I whispered feverishly, and he growled in response while Drew licked his hand clean.

‘’Drew.’’ I said sharply, my voice filled with unbridled desire and his eyes snapped to mine while I beckoned him forward from where he rested between my legs.

‘’You okay, sweetheart?’’ He whispered, cupping my cheek with still slightly bloody hand and I instinctively leaned into his touch.

Bless his heart.

‘’Kiss me.’’ I responded, tangling my tongue with his when he eagerly complied.

My blood tasted a little bitter to me but tasting myself on his tongue drove me insane.

Tangling my hands in his hair, I grinded against him in a frenzy and begged him to undress and take me…

I didn’t give a shit who was watching…

#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x ofc #drew mcintyre fanfiction #drew mcintyre x female reader #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fic #wwe fan fiction #wwe fanfics #wwe fan fic #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wrestling fic #wrestling smut

[raggaraddy]

Mouthy

Prompt: You say to Yandere BTS "Oh my god! Just shut up!"

A/N: Couldn't sleep, so I wrote this laying in bed. I hope it's not some sleep-deprived nonsense ^-^

Trigger warning: Yandere themes, violence, emotional manipulation, choking, non-con, D/s themes, examples of a bad D/s dynamic.

Alpha! Namjoon

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You scream it through your bedroom doorway. Storming to the railing of the stairs, you lean over and scream again. "Shut up!"

The sea of people on the ground floor go quiet. Only the music dares to keep making a sound in the background. You skulk back to your room, slamming the door loudly behind you. You had had a long, disappointing day. You were tired and grumpy, and moody and sad. But the dozens of uninvited pack members couldn't care less as their party raged on into the night.

Not allowing you enough time to even climb back into bed, Namjoon storms after you to address your outburst.

"Y/n, go downstairs right now and apologize." He orders.

"No." you mope. Feeling it's a wildly unfair request. All these people are in your house making so much noise when you're trying to sleep. How is it you that's in the wrong?

"Do you think I am asking you? I'm telling you. Get downstairs now." He says sternly. His strict tone making you even more emotional. You just wanted him to be on your side for this.

"But- But I," you sniffle, with tears in your eyes.

"No," Namjoon cuts you off. "I've asked you all afternoon what's wrong. And you wouldn't tell me. So right at this moment, I don't want to hear it. You have been disrespectful to me and my people. So you are going to put some more clothes on and cover-up, and you will go out there and apologize to every single person." He growls, leaving no room to argue. "And you will do it sincerely, or I will give you something to cry about."

King! Seokjin

You didn't say it to his face. You would never be that stupid. But still, you clearly weren't smart enough. While gossiping to a friend, someone you thought was a confidant, you're complaining about a seemingly endless, boring meeting you had to serve today.

"And I just wanted to tell all of them; Oh my god! Just shut up!" You laugh. 

But hours later it's no longer a laughing matter.

"How did you enjoy serving me today, Princess?" Jin asks his tone giving nothing away of what he already knows.

"I enjoyed it. Thank you, your Majesty" You politely smile, thinking his question to be a kindness.

"I often find these meetings so dull. Many of the Lords do like to ramble on. Sometimes I would enjoy telling all of them to just shut up." He speaks the words so purposefully that you know at once you've been exposed.

"My Lord, I-"

"If you are smart you will not say another word." He speaks softly, with a grin on his face. "I want to thank you, Y/n.  I have an endless supply of other people I can hurt. Each one of them is freely at my disposal, but you are my favourite toy." He fills the space in front of you. "However, I am a man of my word. I swore to you that you will be unharmed if you are obedient, and I would not dare to break this vow. Of course, I have sorely missed playing with my beloved little dol, though."

Towering over you he sets off your instinct to get to your knees and grovel, begging his forgiveness for your carelessness. But that would only be a wasted effort.

"So thank you, Princess, for giving me the possibility to hear your pretty cries of pain again. I will make sure to use this opportunity to its fullest."

Assassin! Yoongi

He had been in a hyper mood for 2 days straight. His energy and enthusiastic interaction was something you always craved, but you had never dealt with it this long before and you were losing your sanity and your composure.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You shout at him as your last nerve snaps.

"Okay, Y/n." He gives little to no reaction. "Remember you said this in a month from now when you're begging me to speak to you."

But it didn't take a month. In two weeks you were in tears apologizing. He left you free to roam the house, but he revoked all communication from you. The only times he gave you any attention, was when he forcibly made you stop doing something he didn't like. Or when he wanted you for sex. But still, he wouldn't utter a single word, only bending you over to take what he wanted.

After 5 weeks, just as you thought you'd never hear his voice again, he finally broke his silence. Only to break your heart.

"Listening to you these past few weeks, I realise how much you talk. It's time you take your own advice and shut up. Y/n, I don't want to hear a sound out of you until I say. 5 weeks was easy enough for me. So let's start with that, and then I'll see if I want to hear from you yet."

Vampire! Hoseok

Hoseok was always so animated. Normally it didn't bother you, but he was talking and reacting through yet another movie and you were sick of it. It might have been because you were PMSing or maybe because Hoseok had forgotten to feed you all day, but when he yelled at the TV, you yelled at him.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" And right away you were teeming with regret.

"I'm sorry baby. Am I being too loud?" He laughs with an unexpectedly harmless reply. Playfully but roughly slapping his hand on your thigh. "I'll keep it down."

You're not dumb enough to think that your eruption would go unanswered. So you sit tensely, anxiously waiting to see how he will repay you.

"Baby," he whispers in your ear, after sitting in silence for 20 minutes. "You know I have very strong hearing right?" You nod nervously. Chewing your lip. "Well, your breathing is too loud and very distracting. I can hardly hear the movie. Can you please fix that?"

You know this is going to lead to something horrible, but you have no choice but to do as he says. For the next 10 minutes, you're completely distracted trying to inhale and exhale as softly and shallowly as possible.

"Hmm baby, it's really too much. I can't concentrate on the film." He stands, pulling his belt off. "Here let me help you."

He wraps his belt around your neck, pulling and setting it so tight that it's biting into your skin. Your throat constricting, barely letting you breathe.

As you wheeze and splutter and cough, he holds the end like a leash. Sitting back on the couch, he turns his focus back to the movie without letting you loosen the strap or get away. Your whole body is shaking, your eyes starting to roll back as you struggle to inhale. The belt is cruelly not tight enough to have you pass out though. Only allowing you to sit in your suffering. The sound of your gasping filling the room.

"Ahh, there you go baby. That's much better. Don't worry, it's just while we're watching movies. And there's only two more left in the trilogy."

Playboy! Jimin

He was telling you over and over how sorry he was. How he didn't mean to kiss that girl. That he was drinking. And that she kissed him. It was every excuse and lie he had spouted 100 times before.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You yelled at him. And for a moment it worked. He sat in stunned silence. But as you got off the bed to leave, taking your car keys with you, he chased after you.

"Where are you going?"

"Out Jimin. I need some time alone to think." You scowl.

But he refuses, blocking the door. Holding his arms to either side to barricade you in.

"No, you can't leave! I said I'm sorry."

"Fuck off Jimin, your apologies mean nothing." You say shoving him.

He doesn't accept that. With a roar, he grabs your shoulders throwing you down onto the bed. Quickly straddling you, using far too much force to keep you pinned beneath him. Tearing off the pillowcases, he makes some shoddy but effective restraints. Tying you to the bars on the headboard.

Ignoring your screams and how you struggle he starts to kiss down your neck, pulling at your clothes, rubbing his hands down your body.

"I'm gonna make you feel good Y/n. I'll show you that I only want you, then you'll have to forgive me." He says sounding desperate and unhinged.

You cry and yell for him to stop, trying to buck him off you, but his hand covers your mouth, his other successfully tearing down your panties from under your dress.

"Don't fight me, Angel. Just let me in. And I'll prove I love you the most."

Dom! Taehyung

Finally, Taehyung had agreed to spend some time with you in a social environment. He and you went out to a movie and dinner with some of your friends. They were vanilla friends though, so as an exception, for the day he loosened a lot of the restrictions and formalities you normally had in place.

You, however, you were getting a little too relaxed. While you joked with you're friends, you started to speak to him the same manner. As you and he were playfully arguing about trivia facts you realized you were losing the debate.

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" You joke. But in the company of your friends or not, Taehyung was not about to let you disrespect him. Even in jest.

"Is that how you should talk to me girl?" He asks loudly and in front of everyone, bringing the group conversation to a grinding halt.

His change in tone and his use of the possessive pet name, right away have you back in your place.

"No," you whisper. The sting of embarrassment hot upon your cheeks.

"No, what?" He pushes it.

You can't stand to look up. All of the attention is on the two of you. And even in your peripheral, you can see your friends looking at you judgementally, wide-eyed and in shock.

And he was making it worse by having you use his title around them.

"No, Sir." you surrender, your head hung low.

"Shouldn't you also apologise to the other people at the table? For interrupting our night with your rudeness." He keeps piling on one shame after the other. Stretching out the ordeal.

"No, it's fine." One of your friends tries to laugh off the awkwardness and speed the discussion away from this point. "She doesn't have to."

"Y/n," He prompts you, disregarding what your friend had said.

Thoroughly humiliated, you can't imagine how you are going to repair these relationships or explain this treatment away.

"I'm sorry for interrupting the night with my rudeness." you swallow heavily, hands shaking.

"Good girl. Now mind your mouth. Before you make me embarrass you further."

Mafia! Jungkook

"Oh my god! Just shut up!" you say in a hushed voice. More of a prayer said to yourself than an actual demand you expected Jungkook to hear.

"What did you just say to me?" he lowers the phone, gawking at you.

You really didn't mean to, it just slipped out. He was talking on the phone, going into too graphic detail about how he and his men dealt with a threat recently. You couldn't handle the gruesome details he was recanting anymore and the words just fell out.

"What did you just say? Did you just tell me to shut up?" He repeats again through your nonreply. His tongue running through the inside of his cheek, his jaw and muscles tensing. His voice jumping rapidly from stunned to aggressive.

You're at home alone with him, so you weren't paying much mind to what you were saying. But this afternoon he's been dealing with work. And right now he isn't Kookie, no the person in front of you is Jeon Jungkook. The temperamental Mafia head, who would as likely hit you as he would speak to you.

"I'm sorry," you squeak.

"You're sorry?" He scoffs, slamming the phone down. "If you had said it and meant it, that would be one thing. I could respect that. But you really just can't control your stupid little mouth can you."

"I-" you start a defence, or more a plea for mercy.

"Shut the fuck up!" He growls leaning forward in his seat making you flinch back. Darting his hand out he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back to where you were. "Don't flinch. I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm gonna help you." He smiles.

You wriggle in his clutches, mewling the same trifle apologies under your breath.

"Shhh, my brainless little Kitten. I'm gonna give you a gift." He smirks. "For your own safety, you don't need to talk for the rest of the day. I just need you to come when I call. Sit on my lap when I tell you. And purr for me like a good little pussy." Grabbing your arm harshly, he yanks you off your chair and onto the ground. "There you go, where you belong." He laughs. "You think you can remember to do all that? I know you can. Otherwise, I'll buy you a kat collar to remind you how my Kitten should behave."

#bts #yandere bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #yandere bangtan #bts smut #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #dom!taehyung #yandere jhope #yandere suga #yandere jimin #yandere namjoon #yandere jin #bts reactions #bangtan smut reactions #bangtan reactions #bangtan fanfic #bangtan reaction #bts fan fiction

[sourwulf]

hello 🥺🥺 idk if you're willing to do smut or anything nsfw, but i was wondering if you'd be willing to do something where u and stiles take each other's virginities?

༄  word count  —  1.9k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  none

⊹  cw  —  smut & oral

✎  masterlist

─

it was date night for you and stiles. aka the first time you’d been alone together in what felt like forever, even though it’d only been about a week. being friends with werewolves, banshees, and kitsunes came with its own challenges, and not getting any time to spend together just the two of you was one of them.

but tonight, a saturday, it was just you and him watching star wars. it was one of his favorite film franchises, and he’d been trying to get you to watch it for months. you finally gave in, and he brought over all of his dvds.

you were laying on the couch in his living room, his dad working overnight at the sheriff’s station.

you were laying on the edge with him behind you, his arm wrapped around your front. he had his head propped up in his palm to see over you.

it was going smoothly until you adjusted your position, unintentionally grinding into his crotch. you could immediately feel the energy in the room grow tense, awkwardness filling your bodies.

“sorry,” you mumbled, looking back to see a red stiles focusing on the tv. and that was when you could feel his growing erection pressing into your back.

“no, i’m sorry.”

he leaned in to kiss you, and you kissed him back. you reached up to place your hand on his cheek, pulling him closer.

only a second later, you were on your back with him between your thighs, kissing you softly. when his lips moved to your neck, you took in a deep breath.

“stiles,” you whispered, making him look at you. “neither of us have done this before.”

it was as if he remembered that both of you were virgins, and his demeanor changed. he got nervous and anxious, his breathing growing unsteady.

“do you not want to?”

you nodded quickly. “i do. i just... maybe we shouldn’t do this on the couch.”

“oh. good point.”

“you get the condoms, i’ll meet you in your room, yeah?”

this time, it was his turn to quickly nod, jumping off of you and practically sprinting upstairs with you close behind.

—

your head hit his pillow, his body pressing you into the mattress. his lips met yours quickly as he ground into you. his hands reached up into your shirt and you gasped at the sensation of his icy fingers, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

kissing him made you feel lightheaded and flustered, fuzziness clouding your vision. his hands worked softly and slowly under the fabric, enjoying how your skin felt on his fingertips. he took in every inch of you, trying to memorize it. his kiss slipped back to your neck again, and they left tiny hickeys everywhere they touched.

you tugged on his soft hair to get him to come back up to your lips, then worked your way down his neck. he let out a shallow moan at the contact and shut his eyes, savoring the feeling of your mouth on his neck.

you kissed and licked, smiling as he slowly lost it. you reached down and tugged his shirt over his head, taking in the sight of his slightly-toned abdomen.

“my eyes are up here,” he joked, making you chuckle. you sat up slightly to take off your shirt, causing him to gulp at the view.

“my eyes are up here,” you mocked and he smirked, pushing you onto your back gently, kissing down your chest. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he kissed across your half-exposed breasts, cupping them as he did.

you arched your back and reached under you to unhook your bra, and that was when his breathing stopped.

“is something wrong?” you asked, nervousness laced in your voice.

“no,” he said quickly. “you’re just... so beautiful.”

you felt your cheeks go red as you giggled, pulling him back in for a kiss. he snaked his hands down to the waistband of your pants, slipping his hand into your underwear and dipping a finger under the fabric to feel how wet you were. you gasp at the contact, and he continued kissing you.

“stiles,” you moaned into his mouth, making a groan exit his. “shit... that feels good.”

“yeah?”

“mhm.”

a few seconds later, he pulled his hand out of your underwear, pulling the rest of your clothes off your body and tossing them onto the floor. you, out of habit, pressed your thighs together, hiding your lower body from his eyes.

he gently pulled your thighs apart, hungry yet kind eyes tracing your skin.

“why are you trying to hide from me?” he asked gently in the tone of voice that made your heart flutter. it wasn’t a commanding or rude tone, in fact just the opposite. it was gentle, concerned.

“because you’re the first person to see me naked in a long time.”

he dipped his head down and kissed your knee, maintaining eye contact with you.

“you don’t have to cover yourself. i promise.”

you nodded, and a split second later, he was on his stomach with his head between your legs.

“i, uh, don’t really know what i’m doing,” he confessed, making you giggle.

“it’s okay. just do what you think you should do.”

almost with hesitation, he licked a stripe up your clit, making you gasp involuntarily.

“did that feel good?” he asked with concern in his voice. you nodded, and he went back to work.

your body squirmed, your back arched, and your toes curled. moans tumbled from your lips and you reached down to tug his hair.

him being a virgin made you assume he had no idea what he was doing, but you were wrong. he knew exactly what to do, and he was damn good at it.

but it didn’t last long, as he pulled away less than a minute after starting.

“is something wrong?” you asked, noticing he was moving his jaw.

“my jaw hurts,” he said defeatedly.

you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the way he said it, gripping his face and kissing him.

you pushed his pants and underwear down with your feet before wrapping your hand around his length, causing a shudder to run down his body. he squeezed his eyes shut as you continued kissing and stroking him, a desperate whine leaving his throat.

he reached over to the nightstand where he’d laid the box of condoms and pulled one out, all while trying not to knock the box onto the floor.

“do you know how to put one of those on?” you asked sarcastically, making him give you a look.

“i think i can figure it out.”

he looked back at you when it was on, and he leaned down to gently kiss you.

“are you sure about this?” he asked, making you smile.

“yes, stiles. i’m sure. do you want to?”

he gave you a look, as if to say ‘isn’t it obvious?’

“absolutely.” he reached down and lined himself up with your entrance, and you took in a deep breath. “ready?”

you nodded frantically. “yeah.”

he gently pressed into you, and you silently gasped, your eyebrows turning upward and your mouth dropping open. an involuntary moan filled his ears, which in turn made him groan.

once he bottomed out, he looked at you. “good?”

“good.” he kissed you for a moment, and he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in.

even though this was new, it was a thrilling sensation, one that made your stomach flip. your eyes stayed locked with his and his lips parted slightly, a groan low in his throat.

it was soft and slow, and you could feel every part of him — his skin against yours, his heartbeat in his chest, his hands, which were now gripping yours and holding them above your head.

one hand left yours and, a second later, you felt his fingers rubbing circles onto your clit, which made you jump. you let out a loud moan and he did the same in response, pulling you back in for another kiss.

“stiles, i think- i think i’m close.”

almost as if he knew exactly what to do, he picked up his pace to a fast but still gentle one. your knees pressed into his sides as the coil in your stomach built quicker than you anticipated it would.

you’d had orgasms before, considering you’d masturbated quite a few times. but none of the buildups for them had been anything like this one. this one was different.

it was like you were underwater, desperately trying to swim to the surface. you were kicking your feet and paddling your arms to the point they were on fire, fighting for that breath of air.

and then suddenly, you got to the surface.

your legs trembled like they never had before, your eyes were screwed shut tightly, and your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into the skin.

it took everything in you not to scream out — not to scream his name.

and as swiftly as it’d started, it ended. he’d stopped his motions, allowing you to catch your breath.

you’d fantasized about your first time a lot, and in none of those fantasies did you cum. you figured whoever you’d lose it to would also be inexperienced, so you didn’t anticipate for them to be able to make you feel good.

but wow were you wrong.

“you good?” he breathed.

“so good,” you responded. “you feel so good, stiles. so good.”

starting his movements again, he went a bit faster now, but still slow enough to not overwhelm you. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck and jaw, moaning as he did so. you admired the sound, thinking his moan had to be the hottest sound you’d ever heard, and you could sense he was also close.

he moaned your name, which almost made you cum right then and there. as he came, his pace and rhythm changed to a choppy, quick one, compared to his smooth, gentle one.

he rested his forehead on yours as he finished, both of you panting loudly. neither of you moved for a few minutes, absorbing the fact that neither of you were virgins anymore.

a giggle formed in your throat and you smiled as he looked at you, chuckling to himself. he kissed you once more before pulling out of you slowly, which made you softly moan. when he was laying back down next to you, he reached down and gripped your hand.

neither of you spoke. and you rolled onto your side to rest your head on his shoulder.

“you okay?” he asked, still playing with your fingers.

“absolutely.”

“good.” he kissed the top of your head, wrapping his arm around you. “i’m glad you were my first.”

you looked at him. “me too.” he kissed you one last time before getting comfortable and closing his eyes, the two of you eventually drifting off to sleep.

#fanfic #smut #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski one shot #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x y/n #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien imagine #dylan o'brien imagines #dylan obrien imagines #dylan o'brien smut #dylan obrien smut #tw #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #mtv

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis & Green Lantern, Sittin’ In A Tree. K-I-S-S-I-N–Wait, Is That Our Sister? PT. 2

Kyle Rayner x Batsis One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: NSFW (Slightly), Explicit Language Tags: @starflyer-104

Author's Note: Hi I finished this! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Oddly enough, she didn’t make Kyle do anything other than design the first month he was at Wayne Manor. And she was true to her word. He had an entire room to himself, and the room was as big as his whole apartment, bigger if he was honest; and that wasn’t all—he had every instrument an artist could ever want, even some of the newest drawing tablets and pens that hadn’t even come out yet. Limited edition first pick that only someone like her could get her hands on by merely flashing that pretty smile and her last name of “Wayne”. It was a graphic artists dream come alive, and Kyle was afraid that he was going to wake up from it that he never once tried to pinch himself to see if it was a dream or not.

Surprisingly enough though, (Y/N) was being awfully nice to him too. She’d taken him shopping a bunch of times, a whole new wardrobe and even thrown in a new phone and laptop. Of course, Kyle wasn’t a fool and immediately confronted her about using her purchases to hold it over him. That was the one instance in which she wasn’t awfully nice because she sucker-punched him and told him to never call her a manipulator ever again. That she had never once used a purchase to force someone into something—she was a bitch but she wasn’t that kind of bitch.

He even questioned Jason about it once they got back to the manor and his friend cackled at the nice shiner he’d received. (Y/N) doesn’t buy things for people to make them do what she wants. She buys things for people because that’s how she shows she’s fond of them. Honestly, if she buys you what you want, especially if you ask for it, that’s how you know she thinks you’re a friend of hers. Just let her spoil you for a while, Rayner. You’ll miss it when you have to go back to NYC.

Kyle relented then, instead of fighting her on paying for everything, he watched her. Watched her when he asked for something. Just for a split second she’d get a look of honest surprise in her eyes before that smirk crossed her lips and she’d toss it in the basket before picking up her own needs. He found it almost endearing, the way she acted, like she wasn’t expecting him to ask for anything. And Kyle especially liked that look in her eyes. It made his heart beat a little faster when she gazed at him with those big eyes.

And while he did love that look, it only lasted for one month. Hell had come to the manor, and Kyle was smack in the middle of it.

***

“Good morning family!” she greeted cheerfully, placing her hands on Kyle’s shoulders. She received various replies, some happy, some tired, and Kyle gave his own.

“Morning, (Y/N). You seem happy.” He cut into the buttery waffle and started bringing the fork to his mouth when she grabbed his hand and gently but firmly, took the utensil into her mouth. Kyle couldn’t help but go slack jawed as she chewed and swallowed, offering him a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” she purred. “Did you want that?” His mouth opened and closed, and she pushed the plate forward, replacing it with a tall smoothie shaker that was a bright, sickly green.

“Uh…” he started, looking between the shaker and her. “What’s that?”

(Y/N) nodded at it. “That’s your breakfast for this morning.” She flipped the cap open. “It’s got spinach, kale, bananas, vanilla flavored protein powder, pineapple, mint leaves and spirulina.” She grinned. “It’s got all the protein and greens you need for the start of this wonderful day.”

“I don’t even know what spirulina is.” Kyle remarked.

“Blue-green algae super-food.” (Y/N) nodded at it. “From now on you’re going to drink smoothies every morning and then we’re going to weight train and run every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

Her family started snickering around the table and Kyle swallowed thickly daring to ask, “And Tuesdays and Thursdays?”

She grinned wickedly at him. “Combat, Rayner.” Handing him the shake, she quipped, “Drink up me hearties.”

“Yo ho.” Kyle whimpered when he sniffed it and gagged.

***

“C’mon weakling,” she nagged. “You’ve barely gotten through the second set. Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

Kyle groaned as he pushed the weighted bar up, holding it for a second before letting it fall. “I told you I can bench press one-hundred. You put one-twenty on this bar,” he griped through gritted teeth.

(Y/N) smirked. “Feel that pain though? It’s weakness leaving your body.” She grabbed the bar with one hand, pulling it up and onto the hold; she grinned as Kyle panted, chest heaving up and down with every sharp intake of breath.

“I—don’t know—how you do this—everyday.” He gasped and she snorted.

“No pain, no gain, Rayner.” She walked around him, and Kyle was too weak to keep his eyes off her as she did. “Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow,” she cooed, throwing a leg over his hips, lowering onto his thighs.

Kyle’s throat tightened and he gazed at her as she leaned forward, propping her elbows on his chest, staring into his eyes. “Pretty close there,” he panted and (Y/N) smiled.

“Closer the better in my opinion.” Her eyes narrowed bemusedly. “From here I can get a good view of your form.” She pulled away. “You’re using your lower back to push strength into your arms. This time, use your chest and shoulders. Deep breath when you push up, breathe out when you lower, okay?”

He nodded, grabbing the bar again. “What set now?”

“Three. Five reps.” (Y/N) pressed a hand to his abdomen. “Core muscles tight. Glutes tight. Keep the stability and use your upper body muscles alright?”

“Got it.” He said, pulling the bar off and she felt his pelvis start to push upwards and she splayed her fingers.

“Chest, Kyle. Not your hips.” He grunted, trying harder, and she put all her weight onto his hips, keeping them pressed down to the bench. It showed in his form as he improved almost instantaneously. “Nice job,” she murmured. “Keep going.”

He got to the fifth rep, starting to go up, when she purred, “Your arms are very strong, Kyle. I wonder just how strong.”

Something in her voice made his heart stutter and he forgot momentarily what he was doing. The bar shifted downwards, and he gasped as it came down at him; (Y/N) reached out, quick as lightning and grabbed it with both hands, standing from his legs to put the bar back.

She looked down at him, concern in her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Sorry…lost my grip.” (Y/N) nodded and shimmied away, holding out a hand to him. “Thanks,” he said, letting her pull him up.

“Take five and go get some water, alright?”

He wanted to shake his head, tell her no, that he could keep going, but he thought against it and started for the water fountain in the corner. As he bent over, he happened to look back at her, seeing her bent over, stretching her legs. Heat pooled low in his gut, and he groaned, turning his eyes away.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed. “Get a grip.”

“Let’s go, Rayner!” she called out behind him. “We’ve got two miles to run!”

Kyle let his head hand and he groaned again.

***

Compared to the day before, getting his ass kicked wasn’t as bad as it had seemed. That being said, (Y/N) wasn’t pulling her punches with him and he hadn’t managed to lay a single hit on her an hour in.

He gasped as she dropped him onto his back and he laid flat, gazing at the ceiling before him; she leaned over him, a cocky smirk on her face. “Need a break?”

“I’m not a novice in hand to hand. I trained with J’onn J’onnz for a while.” He countered with a glare and surprisingly, she nodded, rather impressed.

“I can tell in your form. You counter like he does.” (Y/N) bent down and gently swept away the sweaty hair from his forehead. “You’re learning pretty quick though, if I do say so myself.”

Kyle’s face lit up. “Really? You think—”

“But I can see that it takes you getting your ass handed to you over and over again before the lesson sinks in.”

His face pinched and he griped, “I should’ve seen that coming.”

(Y/N) snorted and patted his head, mocking, “You’re learning.” She smiled. “Now get up. You’ve rested long enough.”

“UGHHH!” he groaned, climbing to his feet.

***

On the third month and final month of the project, Kyle noticed a major improvement in himself. Not only had he lost a few of those extra pounds from snacking, toning all over his body, he’d also managed to expand his stamina a great deal. (Y/N) had congratulated him when he managed to run the various miles without even breaking a sweat.

The designs had come in well too, and Kyle honestly had more money than he knew what to do with. Well, rent and utilities were his most prominent factor, but even then, the money he’d have left over would last him a long time. He almost felt sad when they got to the final week of the project, no longer needing drawings, he was mostly there to make sure the designs were made correctly and with good materials.

(Y/N)’d even given him one of the first sets they produced and even if he was used to seeing his drawings published, it was another thing to see his name on the tag with it. It made him giddy, and he didn’t know how to rope that in with the continued nagging in the back of his brain. That it was all ending in a week. No more breakfast being made, no more laundry done, no more seeing his friends all the time and patrolling with them…and no more (Y/N) constantly.

When he thought about that, Kyle’s chest started to tighten, heart starting to hurt a lot more than he wanted to admit. And he knew why—somewhere along the lines of (Y/N)’s continual ass-kicking and training, he’d fallen in love with her. With her crude attitude and cocky smirks, her proud demeanor and skill, her beauty and the occasional kindness she showed to people, but most importantly, the love she showed for her family.

Most people saw an arrogant bitch who could school people six ways from Sunday both verbally and physically, but what they didn’t see, was the care she paid to those she loved most. To Dick’s anger issues, to Jason’s frequent regrets, to Tim’s consistent depression, to Cassandra’s ever-evolving education, to Damian’s rapid growth, to her father’s hurting soul—she cared so deeply for them, would give anything for them, even her life if it meant. And that made Kyle want to fall at her feet and worship her.

That this beautiful woman who allowed people to talk about her and never cared to correct, was the greatest woman alive, the most loving, the most caring. And she was hard, she was, but her love was tough and those that received it, her siblings and her closest friends, they knew she loved them completely. Kyle knew she cared for him. He only hoped that she wanted more.

***

The production party had been held in France and Kyle had never seen so many elites in one spot that he wasn’t sure how to even drink from his champagne chute correctly. Luckily, (Y/N) had stayed with him all night, tucking herself in his side and covering when he faltered in front of someone who didn’t speak English. And God, there was something very sexy about the way her lips moved when she spoke fluent French.

The party lasted well into the night and by the time they got back to the penthouse, he was dead on his feet. The siblings had dispersed to their rooms and (Y/N) stayed up a bit to speak with Alfred and Bruce over the phone. Kyle lingered around the kitchen with her and when she hung up, she sighed heavily, pulling out the dangling golden earrings and removing the chunky diamond necklace that probably costed more than Kyle did.

Her eyes met his and she smiled tiredly. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“I did,” he said happily. “It was…interesting to see what your life is like.” He chuckled. “Well, your day life that is.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and he wandered around the island, daring enough to reach up and grab her shoulders, digging his thumbs into her muscles. She groaned and hung her head a bit.

“Feel good?” he questioned, and she nodded.

“I don’t typically wear heels unless it’s for a party and I remember why.” Sighing, she pulled away from his arms and he just barely managed to keep the sadness from crossing his face as she turned. “What about you? Are you okay?”

Kyle shrugged. “Feel like I could sleep for a few days straight, but isn’t that how we all work?”

(Y/N) snorted, then sighed wistfully. “I almost don’t want this night to end.”

“How come?” he asked, and she met his gaze.

“I like seeing you flounder like a fish in front of socialites.” He rolled his eyes and she laughed, shoving him lightly. “I’m joking.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. “It’s been fun having around the manor. I know Dick and Jason have enjoyed hanging out with you.” She smiled and pulled away. “You should come back around after tomorrow.”

(Y/N) bypassed him and started towards her room when he spun and called her. “(Y/N).” she stopped and looked at him, waiting, expecting, and Kyle decided to lay his cards to her, letting her decide. “Spend the night with me.”

For a moment, she was surprised, honest to God surprised, then she smiled sweetly, something he wasn’t really used to, and she murmured, “Come with me.”

And Kyle barely managed to keep himself from tripping over his own feet as he hurried after her.

***

“Shut the door behind you,” she said, and he knew that just from the tone of her voice that she was the one who held the power—not that he cared, all he wanted was her. He felt his heart lurch as the door closed and she motioned him to come behind her. “Mind unzipping me?”

Kyle swallowed thickly as he reached up and grasped the gold zipper, gently tugging it down to where it stopped just above her rear. He also happened to notice that she wasn’t wearing any undergarments and he cursed under his breath. “Fuck, (Y/N).”

She grinned and with one hand undid the buttons behind her neck, then reached back, pulling his hands until his palms were pressed to her bare skin. “Be a dear and slip my dress off for me, hmm?” she leaned back into his hands. “Shouldn’t be too hard now.”

Before Kyle knew what he was doing, his hands were moving underneath the fabric of her dress, around her waist and up her chest, gently grabbing at the flesh of her breasts. (Y/N) gasped, a sound so saccharine in his ears, and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

“Kyle,” she whispered and with his pointer fingers, circled her nipples. Another gasp escaped her as she arched into his touch and she turned her head to the underside of his jaw, sucking the skin at his neck.

“(Y/N),” he groaned, rubbing up against her rear. “Baby...”

She was pushing away from him then, much to his dismay and she spun around, grasping at his suit. “Take your clothes off. All of them. Now.”

All that commanding she was doing was shooting straight to his cock and he obeyed immediately, not even caring about the dress shirt as he ripped it open, the buttons scattering across the carpet. He’d just gotten to his belt when he saw (Y/N) pull down her dress and he almost collapsed on his weak knees when her body came into full view.

For three whole months he’d been slowly driven insane by her tight clothes, guiltily imagining what she looked like underneath during the night, more often than not, relieving the urge.

She smirked and walked up to him, digging her fingers into the top of his pants and turned, pulling him along. They reached the beg and she yanked, sending him backwards onto the bed with a grunt, and then she was climbing atop him.

“I thought you wanted—” he gasped when she grabbed him through his pants. “I thought you wanted me to be naked.”

(Y/N) winked and squeezed him. “I changed my mind.” Leaning close, she let her lips hover above his. “I wanna see how needy I can get you.”

Kyle glared at her and surged forward, sealing her lips in a kiss before he wrapped an arm around her waist, tipping them over. She groaned into their kiss and wrapped her legs around waist. He let his free hand roam her body, caressing her side, squeezing her hip, slipping beneath her leg to grab at the flesh of her thigh. Each grasp, each pinch, each touch had her gasping and Kyle rocked against her, moaning under his breath.

Her fingers busied themselves with his belt and when she got it open, she unbuttoned his pants, and pushed them down a bit. Kyle pulled back to help but the second his hands left her body, he knew he made a mistake because she locked her ankles and placed her hands on his shoulders, shoving back. His back hit the bed and she was on top of him again, this time pinning his hands beside his head.

“Bad boy,” she admonished. “You weren’t supposed to move.”

“Sorry,” he retorted, but he wasn’t. Not in the slightest. “Couldn’t help myself.” He accentuated his point with a deep roll of his hips, and she grip briefly weakened as she ground herself down on him.

“You’re going to help yourself.” She warned, eyes devouring him where he lay. “Every movement is fifteen minutes added to how long I’m going to tease you.”

Kyle grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

(Y/N) matched his grin and before he could even see her move, she had a pillow from the top of the bed placed on his chest, long side up, enough to cover her from sight.

“What are you—” The door opened, and he tipped his head back on the mattress, seeing Dick and Jason gaping at them from the doorway.

For a solid moment, they all stared at one another, too shocked to say a word, then Dick and Jason were letting out the girliest screams Kyle had ever heard them make and they slammed the door shut.

(Y/N) sighed heavily and pressed her face into the pillow. “Lovely. Now we’re going to be all over the group chats.”

Kyle blinked, looking up at her. “You think so?”

“I know so.” She looked at him. “I knew I should’ve booked a penthouse across from this one.” (Y/N) started crawling off him when he reached out and grabbed her hips, keeping her in place; she cocked a brow. “Really? Your mood’s not killed?”

A flash of green appeared in her vision, then the door locked, and he smirked at her. “Nothing can kill my mood for you.” He squeezed her tightly. “Is yours?”

“Not in the slightest.” She reached down and traced the smirk on his lips. “Do me a favor though.”

“Anything,” Kyle agreed, and she grinned wickedly.

“Call me ma’am again.”

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[inkykeiji]

i can take you there but baby you won’t make it back

character: dabi | todoroki touya

notes: stepcest (kind of—ur parents aren’t married yet) with dabi-as-touya x a very naïve and inexperienced reader, normal!AU (no quirks, dabi also has tattoos over his scarred + fully healed skin), university!reader, implied yakuza!dabi, excessive use of the words niichan and good, praise kink, fingering, face fucking, title credit = save that shit by lil peep lmao  uhhhh yeah i hc dabi as a very intelligent and perceptive individual soooo i feel like he’d be a master at reading a person & their emotions and then adapting his manipulation techniques

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), noncon/dubcon, slight somnophilia, emotional manipulation, toxic relationship, size difference, slight degradation, mentions of drug use

words: 7.1k

part 2.1 | part 2.2

synopsis:

“You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, when you lay awake in your bed, you’ll feel ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

        ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          

Your dad’s been dating Rei for a while—nearly a year, now—when things begin to get serious, and he proposes to her.

She accepts, so it’s not exactly a surprise when she suggests you guys move in with her—she’s got more than enough space, she tells you, it’s just her and her son in that big old house—and your dad seems pretty thrilled about it. This was the next step before marriage, after all.

You like Rei well enough, she’s always been nothing but sweet to you, and anyway, your father’s relationship really isn’t any of your business or concern.

It isn’t that you don’t want to move in with her—her house is in a better part of the neighborhood, a standard detached upper-middle class home, and just a short walk from a bus stop that’ll take you directly to university, which you start in a week.

It’s just…You’re a little apprehensive.

You know she has kids. She mentions them in passing every once in a while, but you can’t for the life of you remember their names, or their ages, or how many of them there are. You know they don’t all live with her, that her relationship with her ex-husband is complicated and rocky at best.

But you’re still surprised to hear that only one of them, her eldest, lives with her. She tells you he’s five years older than you are, that he’s a clever, smart boy, going off on a tangent about how disappointed she is that he didn’t go to university, because ‘he would’ve done so well—he could’ve shone so brightly.’ Something about the way she says that, the way her voice sounds almost sad, makes anxiety turn to lead in your stomach. She talks about him as if he’s already a lost cause, but he’s only in his mid-twenties, isn’t he?

You understand the moment you see him. The man standing in front of you as you shift from foot to foot unsurely in the foyer of this unfamiliar house is about as far from what you anticipated as he could possibly be.

He’s tall, skin pale as moonlight, with jet black hair and the most stunning blue eyes you’ve ever seen. But that isn’t what captivates you. It isn’t the lip ring curled around his bottom lip snuggly, and it isn’t the tongue piercing you’re about to find out he’s hiding in his mouth, either.

Every inch of the exposed skin of his arms is covered in intricate, seamlessly flowing tattoos—or, for a moment, you thought it was tattoos, plural. Upon closer inspection, you realize that each arm is actually covered in one giant tattoo, giving a new definition to the term ‘sleeve’. It’s all black ink, not a splash of colour anywhere, depicting an extremely detailed and anatomically correct mechanical arm, complete with what would’ve been joints, ligaments and bones in the form of wires and steel.

The tattoos extend onto the tops of his hands, made to look as if surgical staples are peeling his skin back to reveal the robot beneath. This same tattoo continues up his neck, along his jaw and onto his cheeks, all the way to his bottom lip, spreading across his entire face and disappearing into his hairline and onto his ears. Finally, there’s a small portion of the tattoo underneath his eyes, the surgical staples lining the edges of the face tattoos, too.

It startles you—you’re not necessarily scared, you just…weren’t expecting that. But there’s no denying the rush of breath that involuntarily escapes your lips as your eyes search his face, raking over his body in a brazen way that should make you feel shameful, travelling back up to find him smirking smugly at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes meet again.

The look in his eyes tells you he knows, knows what you’re thinking about, knows how undeniably attracted you are to him, and scalding heat floods your cheeks.

He chuckles a little, which does nothing but add insult to injury, and sharp anger slices through your chest at the way that you stomach absolutely drops at his gravelly voice. You can’t believe yourself, can’t believe your body is reacting and responding so readily to this man—this stranger.

He introduces himself as Touya, in that rough, deep voice that forces a jolt of electricity to run through your veins. You idly wonder what your name would sound like on his tongue, how it might sound if his voice dropped to a growl, find yourself stuck thinking about this for the rest of the night.

✰          ✰          ✰          

To your disappointment, and as much as you are unabashedly interested in him, you don’t interact much with Touya for your first few weeks in the house—in fact, you barely see him at all.

This only piques your curiosity about him more, finding that you’re unable to tear your eyes from him on the rare occasion that you are in a room together. He catches you staring every single time, and he has the audacity to chuckle to himself and shake his head when his gaze meets yours, your eyes quickly darting away and cheeks burning at his laugh.

You begin gathering little tidbits of information about him, purely sourced from interactions you witness in the house, desperately praying for something that’ll give you an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

Your efforts prove fruitless when, almost a month and a half since you moved in, you’ve still only spoken a handful of words to him. You do learn a bit about him through observing, though.

You discover that he’s a smoker, which really doesn’t come as a shock at all. Marlboro’s are his favourite, and he’s always got a pack in his back pocket or rolled up in the short sleeve of his t-shirt. He must have them imported—Marlboro’s are incredibly rare to find all the way in Japan.

Touya must have a lot of things imported.

You find out that every other Thursday, Touya discreetly stuffs an absurdly large wad of cash—all composed of ten-thousand-yen bills—into his mom’s hands, forcing her fingers to curl around it. She fights him on it, every time, but he’s firm and adamant that she take it. It always ends with Rei giving him a small, watery smile, Touya pressing a kiss against the side of her head and murmuring that he loves her.

After you witness this interaction for the first time, you begin to notice that, while the house looks relatively normal on the outside, it is stuffed full of luxury on the inside. Flat-screen TVs each complete with full entertainment systems, state of the art appliances that are somehow up to date with all of the latest trends (including a smart fridge—absolutely ridiculous), custom made furniture, ornate rugs, a housekeeper that drops by every Sunday…

You have no idea what he does for work, but you think you’ve got at least some sort of idea when you catch him one night, just past 2AM, exiting his room and using a thumb to brush excess white powder off his nose. His eyes catch yours, pupils blown and shining in the low light, and he smiles darkly at you, winking once as he walks away.

You don’t ask—no one ever does.

You don’t ask about the crimson splattered on the toe of his boot, or why he sometimes smells metallic, like copper, the strong scent wafting after him and invading the halls as he stalks leisurely toward the bathroom. You don’t ask why he leaves the house at odd hours in the night, and you definitely don’t ask about the soft clinking and clicking you hear through the thin walls every so often while he cleans his gun at 3AM.

You’re not sure if it’s really any of your business, anyway. So you stay quiet, and continue to wait.

The opportunity finally comes one Wednesday in October, two weeks before Halloween, when you’re in the kitchen after school busy fixing yourself an afternoon snack. Touya comes home uncharacteristically early—you rarely see him before 10PM, so his entrance scares you, and you jump a little.

“Sorry,” he murmurs as he passes by behind you, just an inch too close, just enough so you can feel his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s fine,” you say quietly, shaking your head a little and trying in vain to stop your hands from trembling as you spread peanut butter across a piece of bread.

You can feel his eyes on you, and it makes you nervous, makes your skin crawl in a way you’ve never felt before. He laughs a little at your struggling, leaning against the counter next to you and crossing his arms over his chest.

“You don’t have to be so nervous around me, y’know,” he says with a smirk, eyes glittering at the way your lips part in surprise, your breath stuttering a little. “I’m your niichan after all, aren’t I?”

You hadn’t even considered using the honorific until he himself uses it.

Your hands freeze, hovering over your plate, and you look over at him slowly. “You…Want me to call you that?”

“You can, if you’d like,” he says smoothly, nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It makes no difference to him, he tells you, but when he finally looks back at you, you think you can see it in his eyes—a sharp, small glimmer of…of something. Something that makes your stomach twist in a way you can’t decide if you like or not.

But this is it, you think, this is your opening to finally begin talking to him.

So you do. And the smirk he gives you the first time you address him by the honorific, voice quivering slightly as you ask him where Rei normally keeps the blender, is nothing short of predatory.

“It’s on the top shelf. It’s too high for you, though,” he says, voice so sickly sweet it almost sounds mocking. “Let niichan get it for you,”

It isn’t, but you let him get it for you anyway.

And he knows—knows he’s got you the moment you gasp at the honorific leaving his lips, trying to hide it behind your hand, nodding quickly and squeaking out a thank you.

It starts after that. He begins playing with you; a sick, perverse game of cat and mouse, hunter and hunted, and you play your part perfectly.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said it didn’t send wicked sparks of excitement shooting up your spine and an intense fluttering in your stomach.

And it starts slow. It starts with gentle pet names—honey, sweetheart, princess—and fingertips trailing down your arm as he passes you. It starts with a large hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you—out of the house and into his car, out of the kitchen and into the living room, out of the hallway and into his bedroom—and with little pecks on your lips stolen when no one’s watching, quick kisses that leave you feeling exhilarated despite their chastity.

Suddenly, he’s home a hell of a lot more. He’s sitting too close to you on the couch while you curl up with a textbook, his thigh pressed against you and flesh burning hot through his black jeans. He’s joining the family dinner a few times a week, idly hooking and unhooking his ankle with yours beneath the table while smirking at you from across it.

Suddenly, he’s asking you if you need a ride to school, or if you need someone to pick you up. You don’t, you tell him, the bus is just fine, but he insists. It’s what niichans do, he says. He wants to take care of you, he says.

Who are you to deny him that, really?

✰          ✰          ✰          

The first time you experience Touya angry is about a month after the inciting incident, when he catches you walking home with a few of your university friends.

He had texted you earlier that day, telling you that he—very regretfully, he said—would be unable to pick you up from school this afternoon because ‘something had come up’.

You didn’t question what it was—you knew he’d lie even if you did. So you accepted it obediently, reassured him that it was fine, that you’d find another way home.

You’re pretty sure if you had told him that you didn’t have any extra change on you for the bus suddenly whatever important thing that had ‘come up’ which so desperately needed his attention wouldn’t be so urgent anymore. But you didn’t want to be a bother, or inconvenience him, so you say nothing.

Two friends decide they’ll accompany you on your walk home, so you aren’t lonely, they claim. Normally, the walk from campus to your house is about thirty minutes, but that day it takes you nearly an hour, wasting time goofing around and walking slowly as you talk idly.

Touya’s already pissed that it’s taken you so long to arrive home, that you’ve ignored all of his extremely considerate texts asking if you’re alright, but when he sees you squished between two boys, giggling as the three of you stumble up your driveway—he’s fucking fuming.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he asks, voice calm and monotonous, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Your head snaps up—you swear he wasn’t there just a second ago—blood running cold.

His stance is relaxed, arms crossed loosely over his chest, lazily raising an eyebrow as your wide eyes meet his. Technically, the only indication that he’s furious is the blazing blue fire in his eyes, but your friends can read the tension in the air surrounding him, shuffling a little closer to you. This minuscule action does not go unnoticed by Touya, sharp jaw clenching once.

“You had niichan worried,”

You’re frozen a few feet away from the porch, unable to find your voice, to move your legs, to breathe at all.

“I didn’t know you had an older brother,”

Your eyes do not leave Touya’s as you speak, the words hoarse. “Oh, we’re—”

“Yeah,” Touya bites, irritation finally bleeding into his voice. “She does,” his eyes float back to yours. “Come here, princess,”

Your body snaps into action, moving automatically before you can even comprehend it, allowing Touya to tuck you into his side the moment you reach him.

Your hands are shaking, but you have no control over them as your fingers curl in his white t-shirt, clinging to him. To your surprise, the arm around your shoulders hugs you closer in response, thumb caressing you.

“Thanks for making sure she got home safely,” he tosses over his shoulder, managing to make the simple sentence sound like an insult, tone bordering on patronizing, while he turns on his heel, marching you both inside.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you’re rushing to say the moment the front door shuts behind you two, Touya’s arm still wrapped firmly around you.

He looks down at you coldly. “Don’t you dare pull shit like that again,” he tells you, eerily calm voice forcing spikes of icy dread up your spine. He pauses for a moment, letting his words sink in as his eyes bore into yours. “You had me worried sick,” he breathes out then, squeezing you again. You’re surprised in the sudden change of tone, feeling your chest swell at the thought of him fretting over you, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I…I did?”

Touya’s eyebrows furrow, as if he’s offended at your questioning, mood morphing in the span of a second. “Of course you fucking did,” he spits like you’re stupid, arm dropping. “Do you ever check your phone?”

“Wh-What?”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Check your phone,” he calls out airily as he begins walking into the kitchen, shaking his head a little, disappointment rolling off him in waves.

Hastily fishing your phone out of your bag, you’re astonished to see eight texts from him and three missed calls. You scroll through the texts quickly, each one making you feel more nauseous than the next. ‘Is everything okay? You should’ve been home by now’; ‘Please answer me, princess, you’re making your niichan nervous’; ‘Where are you? Answer my fucking calls already’. Guilt turns sour in your mouth and you hurry after him.

“I-I really am s-so sorry,” you force the words out, unsure as to why there are suddenly tears stinging your eyes. He isn’t even doing anything—his back is facing you as he nonchalantly begins brewing a pot of coffee.

But the thought of him being upset with you, of losing his approval, sends a sharp pain searing through your chest.

“Are you?” he asks, and although his voice holds no malice in it, it causes your whole body to stutter with a harsh breath.

“Yes,” you whimper out, latching onto his arm and tugging in an attempt to draw his eyes to yours, to see how regretful you are, the remorse written across your face. “I should’ve…That was so careless and inconsiderate of me,”

“It was,” he agrees simply, voice still light, as if he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “But you’ll never do it again, right?”

“Right,” you agree readily, breathing out the word before you even realize what you’re agreeing to.

“Tell niichan you’ll never worry him like that again,” he finally looks over at you.

“I-I’ll never worry you like that again, niichan, I pr-promise,”

His eyes hold yours for what feels like eons, before he finally twists his arm out of your grasp, instead wrapping it around you and tugging you against his body. You stay staring up at him, eyes wide and obedient, breath bated as you wait for your next order, so pliant and ready to serve him.

“Good,” he whispers, eyes finally softening, and you feel like you can breathe properly again. His free hand cups your face, thumb running along your lips, then your chin, then your jaw. “You want to be good for me, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Of course,” you respond instantly. Later, you’ll lay awake in your bed, feeling ashamed by your actions, by how readily captivated you were with him, by how easily he was able to manipulate you with those sapphire eyes and that rough voice—

But in that moment, you’ll do anything to pull that little smile from him, anything to hear him tell you you’re good. You just want to be good.

Something dark and primal flashes in those gorgeous eyes as they gaze down at you, a small grin spreading across his face. “Of course,” he repeats softly.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He begins to trust you more. You meet his friends, each one terrifying in their own right. Jin is alright, although his brain is fried from drugs, and he talks to and contradicts himself a lot, earning the nickname Twice from Tomura.

Tomura horrifies you to your very core—a tall, lanky man with sunken red eyes and sickly pale skin who looks like he’s one bad day away from death—and Touya tells you very sternly to stay away from him.

A university student not unlike yourself, Keigo is your favourite. Keigo is the most normal, with his wild blonde hair and enticing gold eyes that always look like they’re playfully holding the secrets of the universe just out of your grasp.

Keigo’s brain is always going a hundred miles a minute, although you’d never guess it with his trademark lazy drawl, speaking as if he hasn’t got a care in the world. But he can always keep a conversation going, knows exactly what to say to avoid awkward silences or lulls in the discussion, and you appreciate that. You think he’s so cool—he has so much knowledge about the oddest things, everything and anything, ‘a walking encyclopedia’, Tomura calls it, and it fascinates you to no end.

It’s the speed, Touya tells you one night while you’re laying on the couch, your body on top of his, the pads of his fingers dragging down your back in rhythmic strokes. Speed is Keigo’s drug of choice, you find out. Speed is the reason why Keigo knows as much as he does.

“Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days,” Touya says. “That’s how he has all the time to memorize everything he knows—though that big overactive brain of his plays a part in it, too,”

The thought inexplicably makes your heart sink in your chest, and you don’t say anything else. If Touya notices your shift in mood, he doesn’t mention it. You idly wonder what Touya’s drug of choice is, but you’re too scared of the answer to ask.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

It’s only a few nights later when you wake with a violent jolt, breathing laboured as you absentmindedly press your palm to your chest, trying in vain to calm your racing heart.

A nightmare.

You sit in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of your own harsh breaths echoing off the walls and debating what to do next. A minute later, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, wincing when your bare feet touch the cold hardwood, and pad down the hallway.

You try to trick yourself into believing that you aren’t using this purely as an excuse to spend the night with him. It really was so scary, you reason with yourself, it really has made you all shaken up…

Who are you kidding? You didn’t even attempt to go back to sleep.

You’ve been in his room plenty of times now—sitting daintily on his bed as he introduces you to new music, new movies, new books. Stuff that reminds him of you, he says, stuff that he thought you might be interested in. You’re grateful for it; there are so many things you’ve learned in the short time you’ve known him.

That isn’t all, though. There’s no denying the warmth that spreads through your body, that tiny excited flutter in your chest, when he calls your name and interlaces your fingers, leading you toward his room and telling you he’s got something to show you.

Yes, you’ve been in his room plenty of times now. But this is the first time you spend the night in his bed.

He’s still up, soft golden light leaking from under his closed bedroom door. Your hand quivers a little as you lift it to rap your knuckles against the wood. He appears in the doorway a moment later, leaning against the frame in a black t-shirt that looks like it’s a size or two too small for him, riding up to reveal a teasing sliver of milky skin, tips of his hipbones jutting out from the waistband of his plaid pajama pants.

“Princess? What is it?”

You didn’t realize you were staring, and you jump a little at his gravelly voice.

“Oh. I, um—Well, I just…had a nightmare a-and I can’t sleep,”

You can barely look him in the eyes as you say it, your cheeks burning. You both know it’s a lie.

But he plays along.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, drawing you into his arms, into his room, into his bed.

“You’re trembling,” he murmurs as he turns on his side to face you, propping his head up with a hand. “Poor thing. Was it a bad one?”

Your mouth feels like its been stuffed with cotton, rendering you incapable of speech, tongue dry and sluggish. You nod in response, heat seeping into your cheeks again at just how loudly your heart is thumping while you roll onto your side. There’s only a few inches of space between your bodies now, his hot breath fanning across your face as he speaks again.

“Do you want niichan to help you forget about it?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes searching his. Your thighs squeeze together at the way his voice has dropped an octave, low and husky, familiar heat pooling in the depths of your belly. He waits patiently, lifting a hand to caress your cheek, then runs his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps following.

Finally, you nod. You think you see the corners of his lips quirk up into the slightest hint of a smirk, but you blink, and it’s gone.

“Here,” he whispers, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. Hand cupping your jaw, he tilts your face up and slots his mouth against yours.

You’ve kissed before, of course—in his bed, in yours, on the living room couch, on the kitchen counter with his hips shoved between your thighs—but this…this feels different.

These are kisses with intent, with purpose, with a goal in mind. These are kisses that keep you distracted—slow, soft, messy with saliva—as his hand slips down your body and between your thighs.

Your gasp breaks the kiss, wide eyes blinking up at him then fluttering shut as he brushes a knuckle against your clit. He hushes you, nimble fingers spreading your folds before he drags them up your slit, huffing out a laugh at how wet you already are.

“Were you thinking about something naughty before?” he gasps mockingly, sliding the pads of his fingers back down as he speaks.

His hand withdraws from your shorts and he orders you to lift your hips, tugging the waistband down your thighs. You squirm a little, forcing them further down your legs until you free yourself of them completely, eyes gazing up at him again, awaiting your next command.

Legs part dutifully as his hand travels back down to the apex of your thighs, pushing a finger into your soaking pussy.

It’s slow at first, thrusting leisurely with his middle finger a few times and loosening you up a little before adding his ring finger. Sapphire eyes watch his motions, captivated by how your eager little cunt sucks his fingers in selfishly.

“Look at that, huh?” he breathes, looking down at you. “Such a pretty little pussy you’ve got,”

You open your bleary eyes to peer at yourself, mesmerized by the way his fingers are pumping in and out of you, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom. He curls his fingers and you inhale sharply, hips twitching toward his palm.

“Oh?” he chuckles darkly, knuckles nudging the spot again. “Did niichan find something, baby?”

You don’t know, you’re not sure, you try to tell him, but all you can seem to manage is pathetic little whines while you nod your head.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” he’s asking as the pads of his fingers tap against that spot, your entire body jolting.

“Y-Yes,” you whimper out, a little breathlessly. “But it’s never felt like this,”

“Aw, baby,” he coos, and it’s so condescending. “Then you weren’t doing it right, sweetheart,”

He quickens his pace, chuckles at the way you try to desperately fuck yourself on his fingers at such an awkward angle.

“Poor little thing, can’t even get herself off properly,” he tsks. “You need your niichan to do it for you, don’t you?”

Soft whines spill from your throat as you nod eagerly, your stomach coiling tightly.

“One day,” he breathes, curling his fingers with a vengeance this time, your hips rolling up off the mattress. “When we have the time, I’ll teach you how to make yourself feel so good,”  

He’s talking too much. You want to tell him this, tell him to shut the hell up, but every time you try to speak he presses the heel of his palm to your clit and grinds against it, effectively scattering all of your thoughts, soft mewls of niichan the only sound escaping your lips.

Can’t deny his voice is fucking hot though, a form of foreplay all on its own.

And he knows this, can read you like a goddamn book, especially when he’s got his fingers two knuckles deep inside of you. He can feel it, he tells you. You don’t even need to speak; he can feel your thoughts when his voice drops an octave and your cute little hole flutters, when he chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers—a slut for his voice, aren’t you?

“Pretty baby, you can’t do anything but nod dumbly, can you? Been fucked stupid by my fingers alone, huh?”

Your head barely moves, lost all control of your body by this point, only able to whimper in response.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, pretty girl?” the knuckle of his thumb begins grazing your clit in quick strokes. “C’mon, make a mess for niichan,”

And it’s pathetic, how quickly your body obeys. Your pussy squeezes once, twice, three times and you’re gushing all over his fingers, juices collecting in his palm, running down his wrist. You’re embarrassed—you’ve never cum that much before, have you?

Breathing still ragged, you nuzzle into his sheets, partially hiding your face from him. Nothing could hide the involuntary grin that forms on your lips, though. Arms snake under your boneless body, tugging a bit.

“Oh no, baby, we aren’t done yet,” Touya’s saying while he hoists you up, letting you lean heavily against him.

Head tilting in confusion, your glazed eyes find his. “Wh-What?”

He looks down at his lap and your gaze follows, a tiny whimper slipping past your lips at the bulge straining against his pants. “Doesn’t niichan deserve a nice reward for helping you forget that scary dream?”

Eyes darting back to his, you nod slowly, whispering out, “Yes. But—But…” But you’re hesitant; you’ve never done anything like this before. Shaking hands reach for the waistband of his pants, beginning to pull them down but freezing when the head of his cock peeks out.

Touya sighs. “Come on, you wanna be a good girl for niichan, don’t you?”

Of course. Of courses you do.

Then he wants you to touch him, he says. He’ll help you; he promises.

“But you gotta get it wet first,”

You ask how, and he laughs at you. “With your tongue, stupid,” he tells you.

He instructs you to kneel on the floor and you comply immediately, trembling legs folding beneath your body as you situate yourself between his knees. He inches forward on the bed a little, shuffling himself to the edge and caging you between his thighs. Bringing his cock close to your mouth, he taps the head against your closed lips.

They part instantly, obediently, his eyes flashing with something sinister as you take the head into your mouth and suck hesitantly, big eyes staring up at him waiting for approval.

He curses, his hips twitching ever so slightly, skin stretched taut over bony knuckles as a hand forms a fist in the sheets. Starting with kitten licks at first, the tip of your tongue barely touches him, tracing veins, then begins to gain more confidence as he groans a little, telling you what to you, that you’re doing good, so good for him.

Watching him through thick lashes, you have the audacity to look bashful as your tongue laves around the shaft, drenching it in saliva. A hand tangles in your hair and yanks, pulling you off his cock when he decides it’s sufficiently wet enough. Long fingers encircle your wrist, bringing your hand to form a fist around him.

“Like this,” he says, jerking your hand up and down.

You’re terrible at it, movements awkward and uncoordinated, but in that moment he doesn’t really care. He’s irritated a little, wondering out loud how anyone can be bad at handjobs while a large hand wraps around yours and forces you to speed up. Bad? Your heart sinks at the small three letter word, a hard lump forming in your throat, looking as though you may start crying.

But he cums quickly after that, ropes of searing hot white painting your cheeks and face. You watch him the entire time, panting a little, lips parted slightly and your tongue darts out to lick them, tasting him.

He laughs at your bitter reaction, and it’s such a patronizing sound.

“Don’t worry,” he says, collecting the cum off your face and forcing his fingers into your mouth. “Someday I’ll stuff your throat full of it.”

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

You can no longer mention needing—no, wanting—anything around him anymore, because within the next few days it’s sitting pretty and perfect on your bed, propped up against your lace trimmed pillows.

He’s so good to you; you should be grateful you have such a generous niichan, one who eats you out and spoils you with gifts. You’re so spoiled.

And he tells you this, in the dead of night when you wake to find him shoving his cock into you, snarling a little at your soft whines of protest.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns. Just be a good girl and take his cock. He does so much for you, can’t you be good for him?

Yes, yes, you want to be good for him, you want to be the best for him.

By this point you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up in the middle of the night with his head between your thighs, prepping you to take him.

“Stay sleeping, baby,” he’ll tell you, words whispered into your hair as his cockhead nudges against your hole.

As if you could ever stay sleeping when only a few minutes later he’s pounding you into oblivion, large hand clasped over your mouth so tightly his blunt nails are digging into your cheek, so hard that it’s yanking your head back, neck beginning to ache.

He tells you to be quiet, “You don’t want anyone to hear, do you? Then we’d have to stop, and you don’t want that, right, sweetheart?”

You don’t, you whimper. Of course you don’t—you want whatever he wants, you want to be his perfect little baby, you want to be told how good you take his cock, the praise mumbled against your skin in a low, strained voice right before he fills you with cum.

  ✰          ✰          ✰          

He disappears for a few days near the end of December. You have no idea where, Touya answering your curious texts with playful quips at first before he grows tired of it and tells you to stop fucking asking.

But eventually, he returns.

The front door slams shut and your body flinches with a jolt of excitement. Adrenaline spikes your blood when you hear his heavy boots colliding with the hardwood, getting louder, louder, louder…

He passes right by you, not glancing at you at all. Moments later, the sound of water hitting the tiled shower wall echoes down the hallway.

And you wait. Patiently, you wait, like the good little girl you are, not daring to move a muscle. Eventually he re-emerges, hair still damp, a few strands sticking to his neck.

With a groan, he collapses on the couch next to you, flopping his head into your lap and gazing up at you with glazed, blown sapphire eyes.

“You’re high,” you say softly, not accusatory, just an observation. He giggles a little.

“So what if I am?”

“What did you take?”

“Oh,” he gasps mockingly. “Oh no, baby, I can’t tell you that,”

Why? The question is burning on the tip of your tongue, and you can tell that he’s anticipating that to be your next response, but you bite down on your bottom lip, holding it in. You know his answer already, can practically hear his patronizing voice—Because good baby sisters aren’t supposed to know about stuff like this.

“Can I try some?” you ask instead.

All of the mirth fades from his eyes in an instant, and he moves in a flash despite his inebriated state, so quick you can barely tell what’s happening. His large hand wraps around your bicep in a bruising grasp, pulling you towards him as he sits up, his face an inch away from yours.

“Absolutely fucking not,” he spits, cobalt eyes blazing and voice rumbling against your chest. “And if I so much as catch wind that you’re using, have a mere feeling that you’ve tried it—even just once—I’ll slaughter you and the fucker you got it from. Do you understand me?”

Surprised tears spring into your eyes and you nod jerkily, body beginning to tremble as your breath gets caught in your throat. You want to tell him that you didn’t mean it, honest, you promise!; that you were just kidding around, you swear!, but you can’t, voice mangling itself with the hitched little breaths on the back of your tongue.

He growls at your silence, his grip around your arm tightening and you cry out, terrified that he might actually crush the bone with his bare hand.

“Say, yes Touya, I understand,”

“Y-Yes Touya, I understand,” you manage to stutter out, voice returning only at the command of a direct order, tears spilling over and rolling down your cheeks in pairs. His eyes search your face for a moment, his features contorted in fury, before he sneers at you, squeezing your arm once then roughly letting go, shoving you away from him.

You fall backward against the arm of the couch, heart thumping so vigorously you’re sure he can hear it. He groans, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, exasperated.

“Fuck,” he sighs, eyes opening to glare at the ceiling. “You’ve ruined my high,”

You stare at him, breath coming out in uneven huffs, clinging to the couch.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, terrified to move lest you upset him more.

He’s silent for a moment, still staring up, until he lolls his head to the side, glancing at you through the corner of his eye. A small smirk spreads across his face.

“C’mere,” he says, nodding his head a little in indication.

“Wh-What?”

“C’mere,” he repeats. “Come make it up to me,”

Your body’s moving before you’ve given it permission to, crawling into his lap obediently, thighs on either side of his hips. His smirk widens, and you love it—you love how much control he has over you without even trying, you love the way a quiet whimper slips through your lips as his large hands begin kneading your flesh, running up your legs and grabbing your ass.

Lips trail up the column of your neck, and you tilt your head back, a silent plea for more. You can feel the way his lips curl into a grin against your skin, nipping at it a second later.

“So, how you gonna make it up to me? Huh?” he shifts his hips under you, pressing his hard cock into your clothed core. You whine a little, grinding against him.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” you breathe out while sharp teeth mar your collarbone.

“The hell you waiting for? Show me,”

You begin sliding down his body and he pushes on your shoulders, forcing you to your knees between his spread thighs. He watches you through half-lidded eyes, gaping pupils outlined by a thin ring of blue.

Holding his gaze, you lean forward with your pretty little tongue hanging out and begin licking along the straining bulge, tracing it slowly, the denim rough against your sensitive muscle. You relent though, lapping at his clothed cock in slow, long strokes, and his jeans are just thin enough for you to feel him pulse in response.

A giggle bubbles up past your lips, muffled by the denim, already beginning to feel heady as you pull simple reactions from him. Your mouth forms a cute little ‘o’ and you suck on him the best you can through his jeans, drooling all over his lap and soaking through the material.

The hand in your hair tightens into a fist, yanking hard and pulling your mouth away. “Stop fucking teasing,” he warns, a hint of something ominous in his voice.

You obey, because you always obey, tiny fingers working to quickly unbuckle his belt, pop the button, yank down the zipper. He aids you, lifting his hips and allowing you to tug his jeans down his thighs enough for his cock to spring out.

His own hand wraps around the shaft, you pausing mid-action as you reach for it.

“Open,” he demands, your dutiful lips parting immediately, letting him push his cock into the warm, wet cavern.

He sets a brutal, punishing pace from the start, refusing to give you a single moment to adjust. His other hand fists in your hair, forcing you to stay still as he rams his cock down your throat.

Reflexive tears burn your eyes, blurring your vision. You blink quickly to clear them, desperate to watch him, to catalogue all of his micro-expressions and the sound of his voice as he grunts out your name, to burn it into your mind, etch it into your very soul.

Touya’s head falls back against the couch, Adams apple bobbling with his rough whimpers, long neck and sharp collarbone on full display. If your mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied, you’d love to lick up his smooth skin, to trace the dips of his collarbone with your tongue and sign your name in brilliant splotches of blue and purple.

You’re gagging around his cock now, starting to feel lightheaded and struggling to inhale enough oxygen. The ache in your jaw is beginning to spread, but you ignore it, stretching your mouth open wider, to take more, to be good for him, to make him proud. It’s worth it for the hoarse, throaty moans you’re pulling from him, to hear your name shuddered out, followed by a breathy, “Fuck,”

He forces hot cum down your throat a moment later, and you choke on it, sputtering around his cock, throat spasming as it tries to force the foreign object out. He won’t let it, though. He holds your head in place, nose pressed against his pubic bone, and you can do nothing but take it, like a good little girl, like he tells you to.

But it’s all worth it. It’s all worth it, to hear his broken whines like that, to have him look down at you and pull your hair and tell you you’re good, so good for him.

And you’re sobbing by the end of it, gasping for air the moment he lets go of you, wheezing violently as your head collapses against his thigh.

“Did I—” you cough, voice raspy from having your throat fucked raw, “—Did I make it up to you, niichan?” you gaze up at him, eyelashes spiky with residual water. You’re the perfect picture of obedience, strands of hair stuck to your face where your salty tears have dried and swollen lips gleaming with saliva as you watch him with glittering eyes, waiting desperately for his praise.

He looks down at you, eyes devious and diabolical, chest heaving a little. “Of course you did,” he tells you, corners of his lips tugging up into a sharp smirk as you melt into him. “You always do, don’t you?”

#todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi may be a scumbag but he loves his momma #tomura baby i’m so sorry #promise u don’t horrify me at all oof #pls come horrify me more #christ if dabi isn’t touya we’re all gonna look like goddamn fools #a buncha clowns #anyway this is my first time posting something like this #n i haven’t written smut in an extremely long time #so pls be nice #actually u should always be nice #so pls be extra nice #no one beta’d this so there’s a good chance i’ll come back to it n revise it or whatever idk i’m just sick of looking at it rn #the ‘he talks too much’ is inspired by ch 271 w hawks where he’s all ‘he’ll keep talking’ #dabi shut the fuck up challenge #prone to monologuing this boy is #also sorry abt the crazy sentences with a thousand commas #apparently now i’m oscar wilde w these run on sentences #idk i still kinda like em tho #i like oscar #tw pseudo-incest #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw emotional manipulation #tw somnophilia #tw drugs

[bemylord]

ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴀɢʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏxɪ���ᴀᴛɪɴɢ

↳ synopsis: because of the intoxicating smell, megumi's heat comes early, as if by chance - the pills are out and he should please himself. when he just starts to relax, he feels someone else's hands on his hips.

↳ theme: au + omegaverse.

↳ warnings: aged up, unprotected sex, non-canonical behavior, marking, oral, toy [dildo], true couple [?], gagging, spank [once], anal, first time, heat. + sukuna being soft.

↳ word counter: 2.9k

↳ level description: i have bestowed curses the unusual phenomenon of being able to conceal a scent. also, to emit a scent when the owner of the body wants to. i have endowed omegas and alphas with various features, for example: omega [not everyone] could purr, plus the alpha fangs for the tag.

the heat practically had come out of sudden - megumi hates those days when he's a weak, pliable omega and he has no alpha. such a destitute, defenseless little boy who is so desperate to please himself.

'when you're in the heat, better not leave the house. alphas can sense heathens omegas.' his teacher, gojou satoru, have warned him in the first grade when he had started to smell like an omega. he accepted his destiny quickly by being surrounded by alphas - yuuji, gojou, nanami, and that mocking king which is the alpha, although for years of being the king of curses he had learned to harbor a scent within himself, radiating only during battles.

not that megumi was interested in the king, just he has never smell his fragrance. does the curse have one? never mind, sukuna will never gonna be the one whom megumi will think in the heat.

yuuji always reminds his friend he or sukuna won't touch him in the heat. they're just being friends, however, is hard for megumi to disobeying his friend, over a voice. the husky and low voice of alpha can shut the omega without an eye contact - damnable omega essence.

megumi once purred when yuuji complimented his outfit, the gorgeous linen white shirt and black pants, the simple, but it was the effective one. itadori restrained sukuna for letting out the dirty joke about how malleable the omega was, by emitting a kind of snarl.

'sorry, megumi-san, i needed to calm down sukuna.'

damnable omega essence.

fushiguro megumi is nineteen and he had two heats: the first one he had after three months of turning eighteen. the heat was so exhausted - he forgot to buy pills, laying on the bed with the dripping hole.

for thesecond heat, he bought the dildo to please himself, yet didn't use the toy due to the reason he wasn't certain if he should. but the pill to loosen the heat has softened the hazy mind and the smell has gone down a bit.

but for today's abrupt appearance his smell he wasn't ready: he was training with yuuji, using some techniques and learning new ones with help of the teacher, the overwhelming heat caught him off guard when he could smell the unknowing fragrance - cognac. some alpha made him feel a false heat.

'i-i'm sorry, sensei, c-can i leave?'

the matured man holds back his scent and voice, pointing to the door as a sign he may leave the room. silly coincidence. as fast as he can, megumi had run to his room, locked the door for the sake of authenticity. he was run out of pills but leaving the room is too dangerous for him, if he had at least a mark from his alpha it wouldn't less dangerous.

the heat practically had come out of sudden - that weird and unusual scent, he had never smell anything stronger than that fragrance: as embarrassing as it may be, it's overwhelming, filling megumi's clarity of mind with the thought that he might be filled with the owner of the scent.

the thought to grab the toy had come suddenly, when the heat is starting to raise the temperature of the body, feeling as his hole starts to drip, becoming a mess. the period was supposed to start in a week, not earlier.

whom belonged that scent? a new student?

the toy has practically the same color as his hair, the medium length - at least he thinks it's the medium. the glans of his cock have a pink-peached color, as omegas should, their dick is much smaller than alpha's, on this basis, it perfectly fits in his palm as he masturbated a couple of times in the heat.

megumi doesn't like to jerk his cock a lot: better say, he isn't interested in doing it. he released himself when the heat is potent on the mind, hazy him to the point when he unconsciously jerks his oozing dick, cumming pretty much immediately.

few seconds of stroking the base as the liquid ends up on the sheet - it's enough for him for a couple of hours before it happens again. unwittingly, he put one finger in the oozing hole, almost jumped on the bed as he felt the light pain in the ass.

now, the tip of the toy in the hole as megumi gives himself a minute to adjust, he hisses as continuing the dildo goes deeper into the hole, stretching hardly pristine walls, not counting a finger. the omega squints, through the sore happy he's stretching himself prior to feel the real dick. he put all dick to the balls, hardly standing on his knees.

megumi attempts to focus on the thought is someone's else dick, imagining the random alpha, the random face as he fucks himself. he pulled out the dildo to the head, inching slowly to the base, getting used to the size.

‘gumi was on the knees on the bed, his chest being practically buried on the sheet as his ass on the air, suppressing intermittent moans with a pillow, as he squeezes the dildo when he feels as heat is getting intense.

the hairline is coated with drops of sweet as he pulled out the toy, he grips his jaw as being empty without a source of at least some pleasure. it's wrong, it's embarassed but the worst - 'gumi can't handle the feeling of fullness.

as he reaches for the toy, he feels someone’s hands on his hips. he turned his head, seeing sukuna behind him.

'sukuna?!' he screamed the name, tries to cover his naked body with his hands. 'get out immediately!'

the curse laughs, stopping the sorcerer from squirming by holding his hips, keeping the oozing ass in the air. the omega is trying to cover the hole, trying to coping with the smell of his heat, trying not to be the obedient for him.

'you smell so good in your heat, 'gumi-gumi, come on, i know you want my dick in your ass.'

'you ain't an alpha, suk-'

before he could finish the thought, he smelled that fragrance again - the cognac. the stupefying, intoxicating aroma of the mind. the virgin mind is hazed, dazzed by the hell alpha - not him. anyone but not him.

'for years i've learned how to harbor a scent, boy.'

sukuna spreaded the butt cheeks apart a little bit to ogle as how the omega's period made his hole to be moist. megumi tighten the sheet into the whitened fists, endeavoring to think about something else, something about the sorcerer things: killing the curse, no. not now when the king of curses, being the bloody alpha, staring at his untouched body.

's-sukuna..'

megumi's voice is broken, has lost the breath, puffing when sukuna is circling around the hole with one finger. sukuna has spreaded the aroma one more time, staring at the red omega's face as he's trying to struggle with his wishes. megumi is clenching his fists, striving to dodge his claws, crawling, barely crawling forward towards cushions. a pitiful travesty, as sad it is.

sukuna did a tsk, returning the boy in the previous position, yet spanked his butt as a warning sign. 'gumi shrunked at the slight pain but feel as the king instantly rubbing the place he has hitted.

the omega turns head to see sukuna, meeting his gaze immediately looking over his body: the tattoed body is seemed to become bigger since the last encounter. although, it's because of self-inflicted, as sukuna uses his friend's body. but it seems like he's bigger.

'megumi, suck my cock properly, first, and maybe i’ll lick your dripping hole.'

'no way, i wo-'

the king didn't let megumi to end the sentences, flipping omega's body on his back, bringing his body closer as he faces with sukuna's dick. megumi is overly horny to say no, and, how could he deny if a thick, dripping cock is in front of his face?

'when i'm reborn into my initial physique,' sukuna caresses megumi's cheeks. 'i'll surprise you, 'gumi.'

megumi watches as the precum rests on the glans, gasping at the excitement has came over him. with a hesitant movements, he wrapped one palm around the base, feeling the hot, thick cock, wondering if it will fit in his mouth.

as the alpha's dick was a few millimeters from megumi's lips, the last one raised his head, staring into the frantic and anticipatory gaze. omega open the mouth a bit as the head has touched his lips, not entering the glans inside yet lick the precum, tasting the liquid.

he kisses the top, checking the durability of the king, put the dick in the wet mouth, circling the outlining of the head with a tongue. sukuna chuckles watching as megumi making clumsy motions with his hand on the cock, moving his head forward to meet his pubis with a nose.

'god, boy, you suck the toy? so inept, but trying to oblige.'

the omega furrows as if not the member, he would contradict sukuna, responding he isn't trying to oblige him, yet gathering experience.

'you're disgusting, sukuna.'

'but i don't see you pushing me away.'

megumi didn't see fit to reply to the caustic expression, taking the cock in the mouth, sucking it property, maybe, the king will do the promise. it's humiliating - the one who needs to be exorced is not fucking his mouth, makes fists of his shaggy hair, thrusting the head deeper on the sizeable cock.

the omega doesn't pushing him away for the one reason - he's in heat, after all. he's horny and pliable of that. just one night - one. damn. it. night.

'relax your throat, baby boy.'

the name he named megumi, he pronounced somehow mildly, as he tries to do so. the tip with every thrust is touching megumi's throat, forcing fushiguro's eyes fill with tears as the head grazes the uvula.

'such a good cock sucker you are, gumi.' sukuna stares as the tears falling directly onto reddened cheeks, noticing his hard cock that hasn't been touched yet. 'stroke your dick.'

the commanding sukuna's tone didn't let a chance to megumi to say no: he reached one palm to his pink cock, making a fast strokes, anticipating to cum soon.

'wanna cum? my baby wanna cum yet? no, gumi, you can't.' megumi put his hands on sukuna's, forcing him to release his fists and movements.

'sukuna,' said omega when he put the dick out of his drooling mouth: his saliva runs down his chin, although he does nothing to remove it. 'i want something more, sukuna.'

he pressed a thank-you kiss on the top, as a token of appreciation.

'want is it? pick right words.'

he turned his body for sukuna, so the tattoed one will see how messy he has become.

'lick my hole, king. please, i need it.'

later, he will hate himself for his pathetic, miserable act, but right now he needs his tongue. just as pathetic. he hates being so pliable and soft underneath sukuna's pads, again, does nothing to stop him. hates to purr like a cat as the king caresses his butt, touching with one finger his hole.

sukuna kisses the area around the mess as his ears hearing a docile purr as he kisses the hole. he licks the excretion track, running the tongue over the hole which cause the owner of the body gasps, gulping greedily at the air.

sukuna is amazed megumi called him a king, not a dickhead, to which he affectionately licks his trickling hole. the kind rubbing gumi's hips, attempting not to hurt the boy's delicate skin with claws. he tries his best of spreading the love which is foreign to him.

sukuna pulled away from the hole, kissed it one more, before press a finger on the oozing clutter. megumi's shivered, as felt curse's long finger inside him, feeling as sukuna moving slow but deep, letting him to adjust at the new feeling.

the curse smoothly expands the walls and all megumi can think about it's how he's obedient allows the satan in a new guise fucks his ass, allows sukuna to touch him.

'i'm gonna add one finger.'

gumi practically closed his legs by the astounding pleasure sukuna puts him: it's so comfortable, warm, and good. he squeeezed fingers, shutting his eyes, adjusting to accept his future cock.

as megumi once started to rock his body against sukuna's fingers, he pulled them out, spat on his palm to stroke the dick repeatedly.

'lie on your back, megumi.' fushiguro did as he was told, feeling the sheet underneath his back, watching solely into sukuna's eyes: malice and aggresive sigh flew away as sort of careful eyes are watching at his directly. 'you can kiss me, little boy.'

if he can, he'd jump off the bed at the name sukuna has given him, cups the curse's face in his small palms, pulling him towards in a love, tender, romantic kiss as if they were lovebirds.

megumi purred when his lover take an initiative by pulling a tongue into his mouth, playing with the tongue of the boy, feeling the residue of his cock on the omega's muscle. he warned him he'll go inside by throwing on his broad shoulder his legs, distracting himself from the kiss.

megumi purred when his lover take an initiative by pulling a tongue into his mouth, playing with the tongue of the boy, feeling the residue of his cock on the omega's muscle. he warned him he'll go inside by throwing on his broad shoulder his legs, distracting himself from the kiss.

the king has entered the tip as megumi clenched the glans, yet released, becoming accustomed to being full. megumi tugged on the alpha's biceps, drawing on the inked skin fuzzy patterns.

'good boy, megumi. you're taking my cock so well, that i'm starting to think to make an exclusion and do a knot inside you.'

the omega clinched the dick, gasps as he heard the last words.

'not now, at least. when i'll take over this little world.'

the walls of the anus pleasantly embrace the foreign body, squeezing and caressing, making the king even more arrogant - he accelerates his pace, driving his cock inside. megumi shuddered as the tip of his cock reached his prostate.

'did i hit that spot, little boy?'

no strength to nod, only to clench his forearms, moaning precipitously. sukuna stares at the little boy more than he should: his forehead is covered with sweat, his cheeks are red hot and sukuna can't deny but kisses his lips, hitting with every thrust a lump of nerves whilst fushiguro gives himself to his partner, being on the verge of - the sweet moment is about to come.

'you're swallowing me, kitten.'

'sukuna, please, i'm gonna.. soon.. mm~'

megumi arches the back and as he almost grabbed his cock to pour out his sperm, sukuna's hand intercepted the small, towards to his hand, cock making quick movements.

sukuna also felt as the little boy cum by milking his balls, narrowing the walls to an outrage that the alpha has to come out with a growl, biting his neck to the blood, leaving a mark, but not mixing fragrances.

both with their breath hitched, trying to recover, losing themselves in each other's arms. as for megumi, he was overwhemled with an orgasm for a couple of hours whilst sukuna could fuck and fuck even the knot until he'll make a heir.

'you should leave, sukuna. what if itadori will.. you know.. he's alpha too.'

'he won't dare to touch my omega. no one in the world will never hurt you.'

'don't say if you don't mean it.'

he smack his lips against omega's, wiping megumi's drops of sweet, kissed the forehead pulling away.

'after all, i'm - the one who started your heat.'

* * *

after a week of such nocturnal encounters, megumi returned to class again. itadori remembered nothing, [thanks to sukuna, the scratches and hickeys were disappearing].

after classes on the second day of studying, satoru asked him to stay after the training.

'megumi-kun, are you okay? don't think anything of it, i'm asking about..'

'i'm well, if.. yes, i'm fine, sensei, thank you.' megumi interrupted his teacher, answering before he could finish. 'i think i'm gonna rest in my room, sensei.'

'he won't dare to touch my omega, right? did he fuck you good, gumi-gumi? that's your name?'

megumi uttered a low mooing, wanted to answer but couldn't: his eyes widened in a fear, inhaling the scent of a teacher.

'he didn't tell you about me? not that i was spying on you, just.. your smell..'

gojo walks closer to his student, approaching his face towards fushiguro.

'he was good, right? i'm just curious, who will fuck you better in your next heat?'

(─‿‿─)♡

it's is a little smaller than i expected, but the sequel will obviously be bigger. if you'll like it.

↳ main game menu.

#sukumi #sukuna x fushiguro #sukuna x megumi #megumi x sukuna #sukufushi #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jujutsu kaisen #fushiguro megumi #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #megumi smut #sukumi smut #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi fushiguro jjk #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna smut

[after-witch]

In Sickness [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Title: In Sickness [Yandere Sesshoumaru x Reader]

Synopsis: You were not often alone with the demon lord who took you captive. Then again, you were not often touched by the demon lord who took you captive, either.

Word Count: 2029

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of illness

You were not often alone with the demon lord who took you captive.

Then again, you were not often touched by the demon lord who took you captive. Yet here he was, bent over you, hands wringing out a rag he’d just dipped in a pail of river water. You barely register his fingers glancing against your skin, the slight sharpness of his nail edges, as he lays the damp rag on your forehead.

You can’t help it. At the touch of the damp rag, you sigh, soft and pleased. The coolness is blissful, a brief respite from the fever that has been wearing you down for days.

“You are a nuisance,” he mumbles, grimacing at droplets of river water that dribbled their way onto the elevated mat he’d set you on. To keep you away from the cold ground, you supposed, but you hadn’t the ability to care about his unusual generosity.

Once it had become clear that your illness was no minor trifle, he’d sent Rin away with Jaken as unwilling, grumpy but admittedly loyal protector. Where they were, you didn’t know and truthfully, you didn’t have the strength to care. It was hard enough to muster up the energy to care about your own self, drenched with sweat yet wracked with bouts of shivers that alternated with fevers that made your dreams terribly real.

It had started small. A tickle in your throat, a bit of weariness. You were tired, more so than usual, more so than you expected. But it wasn’t until the fever came and refused to leave, until your legs became red and swollen and could no longer carry you, until you started to become delirious, that Sesshoumaru had taken direct action. Jaken and Rin were gone, and you were taken somewhere. A cave? It was a shelter, at least, something more permanent than the campfires and group sleeps you were used to in recent months.

And Sesshoumaru had tended to you, quietly, without much in the way of conversation. You slept most of the time, half-awakening to hear him grinding medicine and waiting until it was placed on your swollen legs, or in your mouth mixed with hot water, to fall back into a listless sleep. You wonder how long you will be able to recall the feeling of his hands on you, the unusual way he sometimes bent over you and stared, checking your breathing, feeling your forehead.

It was intimate and uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to fight it.

You were just so sick. You were just so tired.

Yet you weren’t exactly a stranger to fatigue, to stress, particularly since the day you’d been forced to go with the demon. Stress dragged you down, often making you wish you could sleep for days, a luxury that was not afforded due to the frequently traveling nature of your captor. 

That day that came back to you so often in your dreams, and was now a memory that ebbed and flowed with your fevers.

Did you talk about that day, in your feverish ramblings? Sesshoumaru acknowledged what you said sometimes only with passive noises, either uncaring or not wanting to encourage your incoherent words, intent on making you better and resuming the original course.

You really were a nuisance. So why did he keep you? You’d never asked him this out of fear. You’d certainly never questioned his decision to keep you alive, much less questioned why he wanted you in the first place. Why he agreed to the wild offering thrown before him.

Your village elders had begged the passing demon lord Sesshoumaru to lay waste to a band of lesser demons that plagued the village for years. Men, women, children, even animals--taken and slaughtered in unspeakable ways. Sometimes even killed in their homes, partially eaten. It was not unusual to wake in the morning to piercing cries from mothers finding their children mangled in their beds, or hear husbands wail in agony at the loss of much-beloved wives on the way home from fetching water.

You remember the day so clearly. Like the rest of the people in the village, you were watching from your home, peering out the door like a child, as the elders got down on their knees and begged for assistance from a demon who’d passed along the outskirts of the village.

You remember the shock of his long white hair, his luxurious clothing, his imposing presence that seemed strong enough to make you shake even from behind the safety of the doorway.

He didn’t even bother saying no. He’d simply glared at them as if they were dirt and began to walk away. Then one of the elders pivoted on his knees, spitting out words that would turn out to seal your fate: “We will give you one of our women as an offering! Please, o great lord!”

Still, he did not stop, and the elder let out a shaky cry. Then the elder stood on wobbling knees and looked wildly around the village until his eyes landed on your half-open door, your face barely peeking out of it. He was a man who’d witnessed your birth, a man who’d once given you a special treat for free when you tripped and skin your knee as a child, a man who had serious conversations with you in recent weeks about finding a husband as surely someone so dutiful and kind did not wish to remain with her parents forever.

He was also a man who’d run to your home, quick as you’d ever seen him, and yanked you out of the doorway until you fumbled and fell over on the ground. His hands were sweaty with fear yet they clamped around your wrist like a weight.

“This one will make an excellent servant! She can cook and clean and embroider! Or you may have her--or, or kill her! Whatever you wish! Please, please,” he’d begged again, bowing low while keeping an iron grip on your wrist.

You remember the sound of wind in your ears. You remember the feeling of pain in your knees, in your elbow, where you’d fallen hard. You remember the soft scratch of the door opening, the way your neck twisted around to see your parents and brother hiding behind one another, simply watching you. You remember the look on their faces, confused and scared yet saying nothing. Why didn’t they pull you back in?

And then you remember the sound of footsteps approaching. It was the demon. You looked up and he loomed over you, staring impassively at your form. He didn’t bother glancing at the elder, who was now trembling as much as you.

“Very well,” he said quietly, yet with a tone that was unmistakably firm. “She is mine. In exchange, I will kill some vermin for you.”

A sound rushed through the villagers from behind their doors. Sometimes when the wind blows just right, you’re reminded of it. It was a murmur, a gasp, a collective sound that was relief and sadness all at once. They would be saved from the demons at the expense of one of their own. A sacrifice.

You remember pulling on your arm, crying out something. Did you cry for your mother or your father? You can’t remember now. It didn’t matter. They had already shut the door, and the sound of your sister crying from behind it was the only noise that came through.

Someone tied a rope around your wrists. You kicked, and the rope was jerked until you were standing on numb legs. You had no choice but to walk, to be dragged, as the demon held onto the other end and simply left the village without another word. You cried, you begged, you feverishly cried out to the people watching from behind the doors, to the elders who clutched their hands but watched you leave all the same.

He took you. But he didn’t kill you, or have you, or even make you a tireless servant to his demonic whims. He simply expected you to pull your weight, or at least, that’s what the green imp--Jaken, you’d learned--told you was the expectation. So you helped to cook, you helped to mend clothes, you minded Rin. Nothing more or less than the others were expected to do.

You were kept bound when not doing your chores for a few weeks. When he’d taken the rope off, you’d waited for the moment and run--not that you got far or got anything than a few more weeks with the rope for your troubles.

You hadn’t tried to run for a while. It did no good. And the areas you’d traveled through were sometimes riddled with demons or wild animals that would surely kill someone such as yourself with little effort, should you try to make it on your own.

With Sesshoumaru, you were fed. You got enough rest. You were protected. Not that you didn’t wish every day to return home, to sit with your family for meals, to chase your sister around and tease her to get her to laugh when she felt blue. Not that you didn’t hate being sometimes treated like a pest, like a dog, when it wasn’t your choice to be here in the first place. But at least you were still alive, still able to hope you would see your family again some day.

A sigh from lips that weren’t your own draws you out of your memories, sweeping away the memory of that day and every day of captivity since like dirt being beaten out o f fabric.

You open your eyes, grateful for the soft light in the cave, and see Sesshoumaru sitting across from you, his back up against the stone wall. Your head feels clearer, less foggy, less hot, thanks to the rag and you decide to sit up a bit. Laying down all the time makes you feel dizzy. He watches with no change in expression as you wiggle yourself into a higher position, wiggling yourself back on the mat until you’re resting against the wonderfully cool stone.

You stare at each other for a few moments. The sound of the fire he’d set up further in the cave is low, crackling. You try to imagine him gathering wood, crouching low to do the mundane work that you and Rin and Jaken often did, and it seems ridiculous.

You try to imagine these things in order to avoid asking a question that has been on your mind since the moment the ropes had chafed your wrists, the moment you’d been forced to stumble after him.

But you can’t avoid it forever, and finally, you speak.

“Why did you take me?”

You would never dare to ask this question if the others were here, if Sesshoumaru hadn’t been tending to you, intimate and up close, for days. But the fever and the strangeness of the situation has made you feel clearheaded in a bold, perhaps too much so, way.

He simply stares at you for a few moments, and you think that he will choose to ignore you until his gaze shifts almost imperceptibly to the side.

“You were offered to me.”

It is your turn to offer a passive noise. The answer he gives is is nothing. At least nothing that makes sense to you, makes sense of your situation.

“Why didn’t you kill me, then?” Surely there was a reason, since he didn’t make you a hapless servant, either. “I was supposed to be a sacrifice.” Or you were meant to be. Instead he’s made you something altogether in-between. You weren’t worked to the bone or treated terribly, but you couldn’t leave. You weren’t killed, but you weren’t any more useful than his willing companions, either.

You don’t get the answer you wanted. Or any answer at all. Instead, he merely scoffs, and stands up to leave the cave. He pauses at the entrance, waiting until you turn towards him to speak.

“I will not take long.” He gestures towards the mat with one hand. “Go to sleep. And refrain from asking such stupid questions when you wake up.”

#yandere sesshoumaru #yandere sesshomaru #sesshomaru x reader #yandere inu yasha #afterwitch writes #you were right 'non in the inbox!

[violettelueur]

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE TWELVE || TO YOU, SOMEDAY

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi  kugisaki nobara (mention of zenin maki) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 15 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 1.9k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : narrow-minded

↳ next episode : tomorrow

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i can’t wait to get to the kyoto exchange arc in this series because i am on the low, losing ideas with theses episodes - this is what happens when you don’t plan in advance guys ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ moving on from that, i hope you enjoy today’s episode and enjoy the friendship between Y/N, Fushiguro and Kugisaki ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode..

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

In one’s own good time, your eyes begin to open only for you to suddenly cover them with the back of your hand due to the bright lighting that concealed your sight for a second before you separated your fingers to let some of the light pass through the gaps to let you adjust.

From what you could observe between your fingers, the sky from above seemed to display itself as if it was the reflection of the ocean that was down below on Earth since it was just a solid clear blue as if a painter decided that one colour was enough for their masterpiece while there was weirdly not a single cloud in sight.

It seemed too artificial for you.

However, for some odd reason, you felt weirdly strange. Even though you had just woken up from a nap, your body wasn’t as stiff as how it usually was when you would wake up, Fushiguro and Kugisaki could back you up on that fact since they always see you stretching for some time before proceeding to train again when Zenin called for you.

“Wait, where are they?” you muttered before you quickly sat up from your previous position to discover that your classmates were not right beside you under the tree where you three usually sat while taking a break from training, causing you to slowly look up to unexpectedly widening your eyes once you noticed the scenery around you.

At this moment in time, you seemed to be in a whole different location from what you remembered being at as you frantically turned your body around side to side to observe everything around you right now. Surrounding you was a vast field of purple hyacinths leading you to become completely perplexed on where you were and how you managed to get here while being asleep.

Steadily, you got up on your feet as you continued to examine your current surroundings only to discover that the only thing you could see was the blooming flowers that were surrounding you. Quickly, you looked up to finally notice there was no sun that was brightening up the sky and the area you were in, causing you to become more frantic as each second goes by.

“Where am I?” you questioned yourself in a whisper before finally turning back to face forward only to widen your eyes once again as your body began to lightly shake at the sight in front of you.

“Mother?” you quietly called out in utter disbelief at the display in front of you.

Although, it seemed like she wasn’t going to answer you at all. She was just standing there, letting the wind brush against the both of you while a few purple petals danced around you both leading you to become more puzzled than you originally were.

“Mother, it’s me,” you stated out slightly louder, thinking that you were maybe too quiet for her to hear you, only to receive the exact response that you had in the beginning. On the other hand, it seemed like the person in front of you had other ideas as the woman you assumed to be your mother started to take a step forward, yet you decided to take one step back slowly.

However, your mother continued to slowly and leisurely keep walking towards you as your footing was unexplainably now fixed onto the ground, as if vines grow out to hold them still, not knowing what to do since you weren’t even sure where to even go. There was nothing around you but purple hyacinths softening the situation that was happening, but that didn’t ease your nervousness that was sprouting within your stomach.

Without warning, your mother now stood in front of you with a deadpan expression painted on her face (void of all emotions) as her hand steadily reached down to grab a handful of the violet flowers that was enclosing you both causing you to reciprocate the same action before you both rapidly swang your arm around before suddenly pausing once you shockingly realised that your katana was now in your hand rather than the flowers your pulled out, leading your breath to halt in shock before shivering, once again, at a tiny cold feeling slyly being placed on your neck leading your eyes to shift slightly to the other side to discover a blade being pressed upon your flesh, leading you to look at your mother once again with a mix of doubt and bewilderment.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a hint of pleading within your shaken voice, only to unexpectedly spot a lone tear falling down upon her cheek catching you by surprise while a soft smile gradually appeared on your mother’s face.

“I’m so sorry…” your mother muttered with a hint of regret, leading you to become more puzzled only for that emotion to suddenly disintegrate the moment your mother violently slashed down upon your neck.

                                              ꕥ

Suddenly, your eyes widen in fear as your body immediately shoots up in pure shock as you attempt to catch your breath while frantically placing your hand on the side of your neck where your mother assumingly slashed with her blade if it was a real situation.

“Gojo!” someone called out, causing you to look up to see Fushiguro and Kugisako running towards you with worried expressions on their faces to which lead you to begin looking around the area to recognise your now familiar surroundings as the massive field purple hyacinths were nowhere to be seen.

“What’s wrong?” Kugisaki asked in a panic as she crouched down to your level, leading you to look at her before exhaling really slowly to calm your rapid heart as well as your linger shock at what just occurred in your dream.

“Sorry, I just had a really bad dream, that’s all,” you answered with a small smile, hoping that would ease her anxious face to which it slightly did. However, you knew it wasn’t enough to fully remove the feeling that your classmate had within her stomach.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Fushiguro asked, only for you to turn to look at him before shaking your head as you then steadily processed to lay back down on to the grass as your head landed on your track top that you were using as a pillow.

“Does your neck hurt?” Fushiguro questioned you once again, as he placed a hand on top of the one that was currently pressing against it leading you to shake your head once again, before placing the same hand back down onto your stomach.

Fushiguro and Kugisaki eyed you suspiciously before taking the decision to sit beside you keeping you company since it seemed like you really needed it right now, even if you didn’t mention it to them. 

When they saw you sprung up from your sleeping position, they assumed that you had woken up and was ready to train with them again since Zenin gave you a break due to you fighting all of them consecutively with the individual as well as team combat fights since they really needed to replicate the situations that would likely happen in the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event. However, the second they noticed the pure shock and horror that was painted upon your face, Fushiguro and Kugisaki instantly knew something was wrong.

Although, what they had learnt from being with you for the past few weeks to nearly two months was that you were quite the reserved person and never really wanted to display any vulnerability to anyone - even those you considered teammates/comrades - and to be honest, you were an expert on hiding every emotion that showcased any kind of emotion that made you feel unprotected. 

It was just that this one time you lowered your guard.

To them right now, that was what you were doing. You were just peering at the green leaves above you with an emotionless expression as it seems you were in a trance. 

What were you thinking? Were you okay? What was the dream about? How can we help?

That was what they wanted to ask you, yet they knew you were never going to give them the answers that they wanted, you were the type that would help others but didn’t allow them to help you. It was as if you didn’t want to rely on them...but why?

As she continued to think about the possibilities of what seemed to be your trust issues, Kugisaki couldn’t help but shift her body forward before gradually lowering herself to lay next to you as if she was going to take a nap, causing Fushiguro to look at her in confusion.

“Gojo, you know...being with you is quite amazing and it’s so much fun since we’re the only girls in our year, I feel a bit bad for Maki-san,” Kugisaki rambled before turning her head to face your direction, only to see you still looking at the same direction. “I wanted to thank you for training me since I know I have gotten so much better with your guidance, but I want you to rely on me as well,” Kugisaki mentioned with a bright smile as she turned back to look at the leaves above the both of you.

‘Rely on...’ you thought, as you continued to stare upwards.

“Oh! We should get some bubble tea tomorrow since we have an off day tomorrow, right? You know the one we saw when we went shopping last week, I wonder how it tastes,” Kugisaki suggested, leading you to give a side glance before slowly letting the corners of your lips lift up slightly to form a small smile.

‘Talking away to make me forget huh?’

“Sure, I don’t mind,” you quietly answered as you processed to close your eyes once again, surprising Fushiguro and Kugisaki as they didn’t expect you to talk at all. However, before they could even get another word in, they noticed that your eyes were shut causing them to wonder if you were going to back sleep or were just closing them for the sake of closing them.

During this time, Fushiguro decided that he would do the same as he steadily moved his body forward before laying down once he ensured that he had enough space for his back, joining you and Kugisaki in your relaxing session.

However, as your classmates were resting with the gentle winds breezing by with the sunlight giving some warmth from the cold, they didn’t notice how your hand was gradually going back to your neck as internal dread slowly crept its way up to your whole body.

‘To you, what am I now mother?’ you asked internally as you casually opened your eyes again, only to notice that you were still at the Jujutsu Tech track field - slowly coming to the fact that this wasn’t another dream and you were really back.

‘Someday...will I never get that answer?’ you questioned yourself once again as your finger brushed along the skin of where the slash would have been leading to slight shivers to travel down your back as if your body remembered the feeling of her blade slicing down your neck.

Steadily, you processed to close your eyes again, enclosing yourself into the darkness that you were somewhat fearful of going back into again. However, there was no other way you could get away from the real world right now.

Yet, a single tear welled up in your eyes as it then proceeded to drop down to the side, just like how your mother was in that dream.

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk imagines #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #kugisaki nobara #nobara kugisaki #zenin maki #maki zenin #jujutsu kaisen fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen kugisaki nobara #jujutsu kaisen zenin maki #jjk fushiguro megumi #jjk kugisaki nobara #jjk zenin maki #fushiguro megumi imagines #fushiguro megumi imagine #kugisaki nobara imagines #kugisaki nobara imagine #zenin maki imagines #zenin maki imagine #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #kugisaki nobara x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader

[writing-in-april]

April Fools

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war

A/N: I’m kicking things off for my 30 fics in 30 days for April with this fic inspired by April Fools day- lol this is a much better version compared to what I have experienced in the past with this holiday 😂 @90spumkin there’s a few specific lines in here that are totally inspired by your cowboy Spencer fic lol 😂 I’d like to hear all y’all’s thoughts so far or just drop me any type of anon here- ask me anything -my requests are also open!! Hope y’all enjoy reading ☺️

Warnings: 18+, Dom Spencer (not as harsh as in other fics of mine), Fingering, Edging, Public Sex, Sex with a hidden motive (there are some real feelings there 😉 plus reader acknowledges and knows the hidden motives)

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.4K

When you walked into the bullpen it was dead silent. If you dropped a pin you’d be able to hear it, even with the carpeted floors. You crept as quietly as you could, afraid that someone might jump out to scare you. It was not as if you had gotten in late today, you were actually cutting it rather close this morning.

Your fear of being submitted to a jump scare so early in the morning wasn’t as irrational. Today was the day that everything was going to come to an either a glorious defeat or a momentous victory. A two week long bet was tipping heavily in your favor at the final hours, you had to be careful to not let your hold over Spencer weaken in these last moments.

Today was April 1st- a day like any other to most people, but not to you and not to Spencer. It had all started when you both had begun trying to do little pranks on each other in the months leading up to the bet. If you asked anyone on the team they’d say it started when you replaced his normal standard deck of playing cards with a new set that had awkward pictures of Spencer you had accumulated over the years taped on them to represent each of the numbers and faces. Your personal favorite was the photos you had chosen for the Queens- one of Spencer looking rather regal, eyes cast downwards and with his hands crossed and a big lip pout while sitting at his desk obviously disproving of whatever Derek had said (who was also in the picture)

The team would’ve definitely said it had started there, but that was the first one that they had seen. The first one had actually been when Spencer had switched around the contacts in your phone while you weren’t looking while you had been hanging out with him. To be fair it had been in retaliation to you playfully teasing him about being a technophobe, all’s fair in love and war you had to admit.

And, whether you admitted to him or not, you did love him. This little bet that you set a few weeks ago had only strengthened your feelings. It involved setting a prank for each other, alternating every other day for two weeks until April Fools day, then the team would judge and figure out who one. You can definitely thank Morgan for that brilliant idea as he had spontaneously suggested it after your card prank on Spencer, though you bet he had been thinking about it for a while. Over the course of two weeks you had to delve into the mind of Spencer, really getting to know what would get under his skin, what would be the perfect prank for him.

“I hope you know what you got yourself into Spencer.” He had smirked back at me when you said that right after confirming your bet. You had delved into researching stuff, trying to figure out pranks that would be more personalized to Spencer rather than the ones everyone would see passed around. Eventually you landed on an idea for your last prank that was simple, yet the perfect way to get under Spencer’s skin. It was so easy you kicked yourself a little for not figuring it out before.

Apparently replacing the sugar Spencer specifically brought in for himself with salt was a step too far according to him. The glare that he had fixed on you after he had spit out his coffee onto his cardigan made you shiver, you knew you were going to be in for something big today.

Plus today was the aforementioned holiday that inspired the bet in the first place, you kind of wished you had gotten the chance to have the last laugh. You were still crossing your fingers and toes in hopes that it wouldn’t compare to your coffee prank.

Your eyes locked on the lone figure standing in the maze of desks, Spencer. It felt as if you were both ready at high noon for a duel to see who drew their gun fastest. Though, comparatively there was a distinct lack of cowboy hats and the sun was down to low for a proper duel. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering to thinking about him in a cowboy hat, he’d definitely look good. you’d have to get him one some day or maybe put a snake in a cowboy boot if another prank war was to ever crop up.

“Where is everybody?” You asked, though you knew that Spencer had probably sent them off elsewhere, you had done the same thing earlier when you needed to convince him that he had come in on his day off.

“I may have bribed them a bit to be elsewhere right now.” He spoke with a smirk that would have seemed foreign to you until you guys had started this. Now it was a staple for him whenever you saw him, going right along with his cardigan and tie to complete his look. There was no complaint from you, Spencer acting slightly cocky just before you were about to get pranked on oddly made you get hot and bothered easier than you’d like to admit.

Pushing those thoughts aside, you crossed your arms in front of you, probably a vain attempt to protect yourself from whatever was coming. Your voice came out a little shaky, “What for?”

“Just wanted to talk to you- privately…” He skated around your question, not really giving you any definitive answer. Though, you hadn’t really expected him to lay out his whole plan, that would just be counterproductive. There was a slight pause in conversation, you were about to break it with your own response when he added,“You know I’ve always found you desirable, Y/N…”

The simple teasing conversation that you had been having with him suddenly pivoted. The air in the room felt like it had been sucked out, leaving you gasping. Even if some part of this led to a prank, you knew Spencer wouldn’t play with your feelings like that. What was most likely happening is that he was using this confession to also pull a fast one on you. His deep brown eyes piercing into your own told you that he was telling the truth in that regard, plus if earlier in the bet was any indication, he wasn’t that good of a liar.

“This wasn’t what I thought you’d be talking to me in private about but- I’ve always found you desirable too...” You admitted with a gulp, pressing your weight into the edge of your desk almost sitting on it.

Your full weight pushed to sit fully on top of your desk, undoubtedly crinkling some important papers underneath when he stepped forward to close the large gap between the two of you. The tension was thick around you now with only two sentences spoken, both full of truth.

“Do you want me as much as I want you?” His lips were now so close to yours his breath was projected onto your lips.

“Yes.” You confirmed, with no hesitation. Honestly, you wouldn’t care if there was some sort of prank he was going to play on you soon, you knew that what he had said didn’t just apply to now. That was the part that mattered to you.

His lips surged forward to meet yours, letting all the tension that had been rising boil over. It was everything you had imagined and more, his lips just as soft and pillowy as they had been in your dreams.

When he pulled your skirt up roughly to expose your bottom half to him you came up off of the edge of the desk slightly, then being pushed back down once you were partially exposed before him. You squeaked into his mouth in shock of how fast this was escalating, but didn’t protest any further, wanting to see where he was going with this. You were so glad that he had gotten the team to leave the bullpen for a while, this would be a hard situation to explain. Being out in the open didn’t make you more nervous though, it excited you to know that someone could be around the corner with only the desk dividers hiding your exposed bottom half.

He didn’t even bother to push your panties down to your knees or ankles. He just pulled them aside to gain access to your now positively dripping hole. You hadn’t even thought to question how this tied into his prank, like it inevitably did, yet. You just wanted more of him, in any way you could get him.

His eyes were fixated on your dripping entrance, seemingly mesmerized by finally being able to see it. The awe in his eyes certainly did make you feel adored by him, but your desire made you feel impatient, “Spencer, do something or I’ll take care of it myself.”

A growl was all you were going to get in response to your desperate snarky comment. He then brought his hand up to suck on two of his fingers, his pointer and his middle. But, instead of then putting them to good use to help you reach a peak he stalled some more by bringing them up to your own mouth.

“I want you to suck too.” A little whine was all you could give in response before letting his fingers inside your mouth. You sucked diligently, making sure to get them wet enough for you.

Once he was finally satisfied with your efforts he removed them, a slight popping noise escaping. Bringing his hand down slowly was just another attempt to tease some more, but you knew that he’d reach there eventually. No matter how hard it was to be patient, you did so, though with a bit of squirming.

Your hips bucked up immediately in response to his fingers coming into content with your clit, Spencer’s other hand came down to press your hips back down again. He spent his sweet time playing with patterns, circling your clit a few times slowly before switching to a faster figure 8 pattern, seemingly just to get you more desperate.

“Spencer- again if you don’t do more I’ll take care of it myself!” You snapped harder with more venom this time, patience wearing dangerously thin. You thought you heard a small whisper of the word brat underneath his breath, but you decided to table it when he finally did oblige you.

You had to bite down on your lip hard when he stopped circling your entrance to plunge two of his fingers inside of you. The pressure on your lip was most certainly almost enough to break the skin while he began thrusting his fingers inside you in a steady rhythm, crooking them perfectly to make you see stars. You had to bite your lip so hard to combat the raging moans that wanted to escape from you due to the pressure he was putting on your gspot.

He brought his thumb up to circle your clit again once he saw that you were getting close, helping push you closer towards the edge. Your lungs were heaving in gasping breaths mixed with desperate moans as he continued to add stimulation to your most sensitive spots, hitting them perfectly with each crook of his fingers and circling of your clit.

Just as your orgasm was about to wash over you, all of his movements stopped abruptly. The euphoric stimulation you had been feeling was ripped away from you, his thumb on your clit halted, the curling of his fingers ceased, and his mouth that had been pressing kisses and hidden hickies to my collarbone had concluded its actions.

“April fools.” He then removed his fingers from me and promptly sauntered off to his own desk with no other words for you. Your legs were still shaking, more now from being edged to the point that you fully had to sit down onto your desk to try and regain your composure. Your jaw also was hanging slack in shock in contrast to how hard you had been biting your lips earlier while his fingers had been inside you.

A little glance from Spencer was thrown your way that was probably to gage your reaction,

you spotted even in your disheveled and distraught state. You had to admit, it was not what you were expecting and he had got you good. Your plan paled in comparison by far considering you were just going to have the entire office call him Stanley all day- and of course steal the coffee grounds to see if you could provoke an even bigger reaction out of him.

A deep sigh came from you, an non verbal admission of your glorious defeat. He had well and truly got you, it wasn’t as if you could exactly defend yourself and your pranks to the team during judging. Not that you really wanted to defend them, there was no reason to, he had well and truly beaten you. You could accept when you had been beaten, you’d accept defeat with grace. Though you definitely still feared the idea Spencer would come up with as a consolation prize for his win.

Reaching down with your hands to a stack of files on your desk you absentmindedly straightened them, then sitting down in your desk chair. You wriggled around a bit, feeling the dampness in your parties, already regretting sitting down. With another sigh you nodded towards Spencer, an acknowledgement of his momentous victory before getting up again to go clean yourself up in the bathroom to clean up- and maybe splash some cold water on your face. Though by the smirk on his face, there was no way this wasn’t going to happen again. And, maybe with him actually letting you finish or not, the thrill was sometimes in the chase of one. You’d also have to think of your own way of retaliation in the future of course, just because you accepted defeat just now doesn’t mean there wasn't a longer war to be won. Plus perhaps you will admit your deeper feelings for him that you could now see lying beneath his eyes as well, feelings much deeper than desire.

Safe to say you just told the team that you lost fair and square, not divulging why no matter how much Penelope pried. It was without a doubt, a glorious defeat.

—

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith

All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99

Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics

Dom Spencer: @rainsong01 @evlfknb

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler smut #criminal minds #mgg #mgg x reader

[fruitcoops]

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

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

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

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

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

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

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

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

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #thomas walker #talker #james potter #lily potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #sick fic

[notnctu]

switchin’ lanes - l.jn | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series 

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, pwp???, fluff (if u squint) wordcount ➠ 8.3k details ➠  fem!reader, streetracer!jeno, badboy!jeno, college!au,  ━ where you and jeno are in a relationship, but not with each other. warnings ➠ explicit language, cheating, flirty banter, alcohol consumption, drugs, yall at a party, physical fighting (not with you), mentions of cuts/bruises, hickeys, drunk public dry humping, thigh riding, fingering, oral (f/receiving) synopsis ➠ If your boyfriend didn’t decide to join such a stupid unofficial club, then maybe you wouldn’t be in such a sticky situation where Lee Jeno is literally knuckles deep in your sticky situation as he drives you home. Or maybe if your boyfriend actually touched you, then you wouldn’t be seeking it from someone else, who can’t keep his hands off of you. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo​ ; @dearlyminhyung​

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! i hope you enjoy the series pls leave me feedback lmaoo ill literally take anything. we also hit a milestone for followers and honestly its so crazy to know how quickly this tiny sideblog has grown! we’re so thankful that yall follow us, thank u for lovin us and we will try our best to put out more content!! also through the lens hit 1k notes how is that even possible like wow im speechless thank u for everyone who left such kind comments i treasure every form of feedback :) 

The heavy double doors of the classroom stare tauntingly at you. The evening setting in, painting the sky with strokes of orange and pink. You managed to remain complaint free the entire day, until your forgetful boyfriend canceled on you because of a club meeting. A meeting for an unofficial club on campus because it is illegal to street race. A club consists of delinquents that are obsessed with cars and steal your boyfriend away from you. 

This is the fifth time this week that your boyfriend stood you up or coincidentally forgot your dates. You can’t remember the last time he physically stood in front of you and not through a phone screen. However, it is not completely the stupid club’s fault that your boyfriend has neglected you. 

He truly is the worst boyfriend ever. He blames everything on his bad memory and does not prioritize you in his life. He loves one thing --- his car. You could be lying in a hospital bed, and he wouldn’t care to check up on you. 

So why did you stay with him? Because you’re scared of being alone? Possibly, but it is a can of worms that you did not want to open just yet. Sex is definitely not the reason you stay with him. He hasn’t touched you sexually since the first and now, last time you two slept together. 

You try your best, to only be waved off with a yawn. He doesn’t compliment you. He doesn’t look at you lovingly. He doesn’t even kiss you for longer than two seconds. You are a toppling tower, ready to crumble at any given moment.

The anger in your body fuels you as you pull the door open to reveal several men in leather jackets chatting away with each other. One by one, they all begin to lay their eyes on who abruptly interrupted their joyous conversations. Your eyes scan the room full of intimidating men, whose auras cause a shiver to run down your spine.

Your boyfriend is nowhere in sight, given that there are plenty enough guys who have the ability to cover him. You walk into the open space and the entire mood of the room shifts. 

Heavy cologne and a deafening silence fill the air. One particular male, who has been eyeing you the entire time, gets up and walks towards you. 

“Are you lost, baby?” Scoffs and chuckles sparsely cover the corners of the room. The unknown male has a jarring cut on his eyebrow, matching a small bruise on his upper cheekbone. 

“I’m looking for my boyfriend…” Your weak voice trails off from the sudden attractive male intimidation. The tall man peers around the room, crossing his arms.

“If you are this beautiful woman’s boyfriend, please fucking come out now. It’s very rude to keep your girl waiting for you!” Initially, his low throaty shout startles you. A heavy heat falls on your cheeks when you register his choice of adjectives.

The whole room falls silent once more, before your pitiful boyfriend steps out from between two bulkier men. “Hey babe, what are you doing here?” His eyes nervously bounce around the room, a shaky laughter erupting from his gut. 

“Sorry, Jeno. I didn’t mean to cause such a scene. I didn’t even see her come in.”

Like a trigger, you remember your intentions for storming in uninvited. Jeno gauges your flaming reaction to your boyfriend’s apologetic words. He nods, not out of acceptance of the apology, but out of disbelief.

He pulls your boyfriend by the collar of his white shirt and your eye widens at the condescending tone that causes your boyfriend to cower, “I’m not the one to apologize to.” With a careless toss, your boyfriend ends up shaking in front of you.

“Jeno is not the only one you should be scared of.” You whisper angrily to him as the rest of the room continues on with their previous chatter. 

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, “listen, Jeno’s been arrested before. You don’t want to get on that man’s bad side.” 

Your eyes wander behind your boyfriend’s hunching shoulders, catching Jeno steal peeks at you too. There is no interest in the other rambling male that stands in front of him. He just wants to check you out a bit more. 

He is the hottest person you’ve ever gotten the attention of. You feel flustered, and a bit flattered at his lingering gaze. His brown hair is slicked back messily, giving you more to admire. Jeno is an absolute cliche from a bad boy fanfiction. He is unreal, and the odd chance that he can’t keep his eyes off of you, is also unreal. 

But with a light nudge from a blue haired fellow, Jeno’s eyes peel away from your’s. They exchange a few words, which then propels Jeno to hurriedly put on his slightly tattered leather jacket.

You lick your lips to the sight of his body lines as he stands up to follow his friend, but not without another look back at you. Noticing your stare still on him, he bids you a tiny wave goodbye with a smirk to die for. And like that, he’s gone. 

“Are you listening to me?” Your boyfriend’s voice finally reaches your reality. Your focus shifts to the obviously irritated expression on his face. 

“I guess, I’m not. Don’t fucking stand me up again or I will key your car.” You aren’t actually those kinds of girls, but your boyfriend didn’t take a threat seriously unless it involves his highly treasured car. 

And like Jeno, you also make your exit out of the steamy room. The chilly night brush against your unknowingly hot cheeks. Then, you take yourself to the only unhealthy coping mechanism you can think of: a place of free alcohol and no boyfriend.

It takes you a few months to completely stop caring about your dying relationship. You figure how easy it is for your boyfriend to do it, so you make the same decision.

He spends his nights with his friends he made from his club, and has totally become a self proclaimed car enthusiast. You lose yourself in copious amounts of cheap alcohol at your local parties and it’s almost like you stop sulking over a man who kisses his car goodnight.

While being alone did not bother you as much as you had been dreading, the sexual frustration is a completely different issue. You are absolutely drooling whenever your eyes find Jeno in the crowds of sweaty bodies.

If there is one good thing that came out of your boyfriend’s membership in that club, it had to be Lee Jeno and a few other notable people who attended the same parties as you.

He became a very close acquaintance, and you had learned some very important names associated with the Ridin’ Club. Na Jaemin, Lee Haechan, and Huang Renjun. But the three could not compare to the kindhearted Jeno that makes butterflies stir in your lower abdomen. 

Over the months, you also had learned rather quickly that your sexually clouded mind had tricked you previously into thinking that Jeno’s stares were full of lust for you. His girlfriend makes it clear that it isn’t the case.

Although you have caught the couple making out several times when trying to use the bathroom, your feverish, impure attraction toward Jeno never calmed down.

“You’re looking very tempting tonight, baby.” Jeno’s beaming eye smile greets you, even after completely undressing you with his gaze. His arms are wide open to embrace your warm body. 

The parties are always too hot to wear a fully clothed outfit. You often settle for a cute tank top and a short skirt to prevent your legs from collecting extra moisture. Jeno, without a fail, shows up in black jeans that clad his lower half, tucked with a simple white shirt. His tattoos and toned arms being on full display for you to admire. 

“Better make sure your actual baby doesn’t hear that.” The loud beats of the music make Jeno’s chuckle almost inaudible, but his expression remains cheerful, as per usual. “Did you get into another fight?” 

The fresh wound cut through his smooth complexion, which will eventually join the rest of his collection of fading scars. He mindlessly grazes over the new bandaging and dramatically winces. Clearly concerned, you grab his hand away from the injury. “Don’t touch it, stupid.”

His smile curves into a sly smirk, as he intertwines your fingers and kisses the back of your hand. “It doesn’t hurt at all.” His chest heaves into a fit of giggles, “just wanted to see you care for me.” 

Groaning, you shake his massive hand off of your’s. “Very funny. I should start charging you for my attention.” 

“Name your price, I got all the money in the world for you.” He winks, while lightly pinching your cheek. You are lying to yourself if you thought you could ever stay away from him. Jeno stirs up a part of you that craves the cheesy nicknames, flirty comments and the undivided attention. 

He motions you to follow him into the mess of people. Almost as if he’s a god, the crowd parts for you two to walk through without unnecessary extra bodies. The fear that settles in many individuals’ chest is understandable.

Like your first impression, Jeno is a complete walking fanfiction trope. He negotiates better with his fists, usually with good reason. The guns of the Ridin’ Club, though, his friends are very much to be feared as well. They will not hesitate to run someone over, if given the heated situation to do so. And most definitely, you can count them to be backing up their fighter, Jeno. 

You had not been mindful before of the chatter that regarded the secret Ridin’ Club. They are notorious for fast paced very illegal races in the middle of nowhere destinations and tempers that aren’t meant to be provoked. Besides their intimidating aura, it melts away after getting to know them.

Lee Haechan, the most annoying brat, but has the strongest, the most loyal bond to his boys. He’s also notably funny, often making you laugh with an exchange of banter.

Huang Renjun, the whiniest and initially quiet boy, but grows to be one of the loudest and will chew you out if anyone dares try engaging in verbal combat. 

Na Jaemin, the flirty playboy who always has a swarm of girls, but the gentlest man with a soft spot for cute things. 

And finally, Lee Jeno, the owner of your nights. He is the friendliest of them all, despite him being the toughest one. While his stare can kill, melting away his layers reveal the warmest heart. Not that Jeno is the only one to show initial interest in you, but he is the most considerate to the people he holds close to him.

He has taken care of you for many drunk nights and watched protectively over your intoxicated figure in the crowds. He makes you feel safe and seen, which are some of the many reasons you are entirely attracted to him.

“(Y/N)!” Jaemin’s scream pierce your ears the moment the blueberry catches your eye. He excitedly nudges the other two boys, who are busy pouring drinks into red cups.

“You’re going to make me spill it, idiot!” Renjun grumbles, but looks up to see your dazzling smile and tremendous excitement. His own smile grows, “so the life of the party finally decided to say hi.”

“Hi, my fanclub. I appreciate the long awaited greeting.” Your over the top, sarcasm causes all of them to chime loudly. Haechan hands you a cup and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

Jeno joins you at your side and the five of you clink your drinks to the ceiling. A fit of yells over the music and a competition of who can finish first. As per usual, you set your cup down after draining the entirety. The others are still chugging the burning liquid down their throats. 

Haechan coughs after dropping his cup onto the counter. His face is twisted with the most disgusted contour, “I don’t know how you do it, (Y/N).”

“I already drank more than you guys, so it just tastes like water now.” You scream over the loud music. Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun toss their empty cups into the sink. 

At this rate, you are completely blindsided by the effects of the alcohol as your legs give out to gravity. Jeno catches you quickly, holding your elbows and your head is placed on his shoulder. Jaemin chuckles lovingly, before helping Jeno balance you against the island. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders, as the room spins in front of you. 

“You good?” Haechan pats your head gently, whispering close to you.

“I---” You try catching your breath after being winded. “--It’s hitting me now.”

Jeno wraps his arm around your lower waist to draw you close to him, “want to go sit down?” He mumbles into your hair. You nod, Jeno and Renjun supporting your limp body to walk over to the couch.

The dark living room is lit up only by colorful led lights, but it is not enough to make out much of anything. Everyone is in their own world, dancing and socializing within their own selves. The two men set you down on the cushion, but your impulse catches onto Jeno’s wrist before he leaves. Renjun is already lost in the crowd.

“Can I sit on your lap?” You pout cutely, all the shame in your body has been displaced with courage. Jeno’s eyes soften at your sudden request, and kisses the top of your forehead.

“The throne is all yours.” He says as he sits at your side and pulls you on top of his thick thighs. His arm is loosely dangling around your waist, resting on top of your thighs. 

The intimate position causes your mind to wander into dark thoughts. His strong, sturdy legs feel delicious against your clothed core. While you’ve been in this position once before, you could never forget how protected, yet very horny it makes you feel. 

“What’s on your mind, (y/n)?” Jeno’s deep voice brushes against your bare shoulder and you feel his chest press against your back. “You’ve been pretty silent tonight.”

You turn slightly to face him, “if I told you, I’m scared it would ruin things between us.”

“There’s nothing in the world that can hold me back from you.” He is always so quick to spill such alluring words. His soft lips graze lightly on your skin as his sparkling eyes look up at your expression.

All it takes is one more tiny kiss on your arm to get you grabbing his face, drawing him into a steamy, long awaited kiss. Surprisingly, he kisses you back, open mouth and tongue lapping with your’s. His hands reposition your legs to where you straddle him. Your faces dive deeper into each other’s as the kiss continues to intensify.

Jeno’s lips still have a hint of alcohol, but he mostly tastes like mint gum. And they are comparable to a cloud, the softest lips you have ever made out with. It is like kissing pure heaven, completely different from your boyfriend’s two second pecks. Jeno devours you in a needy way, like he’s been waiting to explore the wonders of your lips. 

However, you pull away when you feel the vibration of his phone against your inner thigh, almost like a wake up call. As if all the liquid courage disappeared, you blink back in shock at Jeno’s plump wet lips. The thought of his girlfriend crosses your mind, and maybe slight guilt for your own boyfriend fills your system.

You quickly start getting up from his hot body, “fuck, I’m so sorry..” But his hands pull you back onto him, your legs finding their way open above his thighs again. 

“Don’t be, I’ve always wondered what your lips would taste like.” A smirk, then a hearty chuckle relaxes your contracting nerves at the potential of a ruined friendship. 

“But, your girlfriend..” Your tiny voice trails off and Jeno picks up your chin. His fingers rubbing along your jawline.

His eyes do another lap around your features. He admires your averting shy eyes, your beautiful lips, and how they all come together to make a stunning you. 

There is no doubt in Jeno’s mind that he is very attracted to you. He knew it the moment you barged into the club meeting. You are his type of woman, a good mixture of confident and timidness. You like to have some fun, and aren't afraid to be bold. Not to mention, that you are incredibly hot and every time you flirt back just makes him melt inside.

“She won’t care. She hooks up with people all the time.” It puzzles you, all this time you had been holding yourself back from Jeno because he has a girlfriend. All to find out that the relationship isn’t as serious as you thought it to be.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense. But we aren’t two people to be tied down, but at the same time, we like each other enough to want to stay together.”

Your confused expression causes Jeno to laugh and ask, “what’s the dilemma with your boyfriend?”

Rolling your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, you sigh, “it’s like we’re still together, but we aren’t at the same time. We’ve abandoned the relationship unknowingly.”

Jeno runs a warm hand up and down your thigh, while he listens intently to you. He nods, grabbing your waist to pull you over his groin. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“No, he’s a shitty person and an even shittier boyfriend. We literally haven’t fucked for the past year. I’m practically a virgin again.” His hand automatically gives your thigh a light squeeze.

Jeno’s eyes light up as you quickly cover your mouth out of embarrassment. A devilish smirk raises his cheekbone, and lust clouds his mind. Gauging his reaction, your cheeks turn hot.

“We’ll have to change that, don’t we? My baby must be all kinds of frustrated. Tell me, do you like when I touch you then?” Jeno drops in tempo, usually when he wants to be more intimidating with a deeper voice. 

You clear your throat intending to speak, but you can only nod your head in response. “C’mon, (Y/N). Use your words, like a big girl.” Even with the loud music and continuous chatter, you can hear Jeno‘s taunting whisper. 

His words tickle your collarbone as he runs his lips against your neck. Your heart is pumping rapidly at the turn of events, as if the possibility of having something beyond a kiss from Jeno is more than possible at this rate. 

Jeno enjoys your small whimpers as he marks your neck with purple love bites. Right in the center of the crowded room, Lee Jeno is just casually giving you hickeys.

“Yes, I love that you can’t keep your hands off of me.” 

Almost immediately, you can feel his lips curve into a smile on your skin. Pop! Jeno marvels the darkness against your skin in the mood lighting. A small part of him hopes you do end up seeing your boyfriend sometime soon, so he can see who you really belong to.

“How about we try touching like this?” Jeno pushes you down hard against his pelvis, the veins on his hands becoming evident from the grip and the tiny drawings permanently staining his fingers.

You gasp the moment you feel Jeno’s hip begin to move underneath you to the beat of the song. He rolls your hips rhythmically to match his speed. His clothed hard on can be felt through the only barrier you have on --- your panties.

The thin fabric is soon drenched in your juices after the continuous friction up and down his length. You throw your head back to every bump against your clit, the electrifying feeling enact more of your wetness to puddle. 

You can’t believe you were grinding against Jeno in the middle of a full party, as if his friends aren’t a few feet away. It is a good thing that your skirt pools around both of your waists to conceal the dirty deed underneath.

Jeno’s lip escapes under his top row of teeth as he rubs his clothed length against your barely covered pussy. He can feel his jeans dampening from your wetness and his eyes roll to the back of his head from how the feeling of wanting you consumes his body. He really becomes uncontrollable when it comes to you. 

This is the most sexual activity you have had with another person for over a year. Jeno just looks absolutely heavenly intoxicated with lust, and your mouth waters at how big his cock must be. You can feel his length the harder Jeno rolls against you, and it is definitely bigger than your boyfriend’s. 

You are trying so hard to stay quiet and unnoticeable, but the pleasure seeps out every crevice. Jeno is trained on you as your hand reaches up to cover your mouth, the muffled whimpers escaping your lips uncontrollably.

“I’m so close.” You admit, your body jolting every time his jean button grazes against your sensitive bud.

Jeno moves you over his thigh, forgetting his incredibly hard dick straining in his jeans. As long as you are satisfied, he can care less about his own pleasure. A low scream erupts from your throat when he flexes against you. 

His thigh is much more stable, with more control for consistency. You quickly notice the dark, wet spot on his jeans and you blush even harder. Your underwear clings onto you from the excessive moisture, but Jeno continues to help you finish.

The strands of hair cover your face, but Jeno needs to see your fucked out expression. He is taken aback when you start riding his thigh faster, grinding harder without the aid of his hands.

His mouth hangs slightly open in awe at your neediness, he truly did not know the extent of your sexual frustrations. Oh, but how he is incredibly turned on by you getting off on him. 

“I want you to cum for me, you deserve it.” Jeno brings you in for another passionate kiss. The mixture of his tongue sucking harshly on yours, and the friction on your clit are more than enough to reach your climax. 

Your legs clenched tightly around Jeno’s thigh. The small knot in your stomach that built, drops like the beat playing in the background. The feeling of white is familiar, but it is more intense than when you would touch yourself. You are finally receiving the pleasure from someone else’s touch, someone who wants you to unravel for him.

Jeno pulls away from your lips, kissing down your neck and collarbones as your chest heaves for air. His palm soothes your shaking legs as your climax subsides. You fall into his arms, and he laughs. The reality that you two just did that publicly registers in both of your minds.

Digging your shy face further into Jeno’s shoulder, he whispers lovingly, “let me drive you home.” 

“Are you still drunk?” The muffled question tickles Jeno’s neck.

“I think you beautifully cumming on my thigh sobered me up.” He jokes and you quickly cover his mouth. Your heart practically stops and you hope no one else heard him.

It is silly that you are now self conscious, as if the whole room didn’t just watch you and Jeno grind on the couch. But, the feeling of embarrassment and regret lingers in your stomach. You mentally thank the dark room for concealing both of your identities.

“I’m sorry for your jeans.” A pout begs for forgiveness as you stare at Jeno’s beaming smile. He takes your hand off of his mouth, not forgetting to give your fingertips a lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry for your boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Jeno parts your hair from your neck, admiring the marks he left on you. A small sense of pride builds inside of him, accompanied by a tiny bundle of possessiveness.

“Let me say goodbye to the boys and I’ll take you home.” 

Nodding, Jeno carefully lifts you off of him and onto the cushion. He leans over to kiss your cheek. As he gets up, you see the darker shades on his jeans from your doing. However, Jeno is completely unbothered and continues to find his friends.

Now that you are alone, you feel a bit nervous that someone would come up to you and talk about what they saw. Checking your phone, your screen blinds you with absolutely no notifications from your boyfriend. Going on social media is worse, as you scroll to see that your boyfriend posted a photo.

It is a photo of his hot, red polished car. He obnoxiously posed squatting next to the front wheel, his lips puckered up and kissing the rims. With a caption that makes every regret in your body disappear, “with my one and only.” 

The phone is tossed somewhere else, wishing to delete the image from your memory. Your eyes wander around the room, when they spot a suspicious man sneakily dropping a small pill in an unattended drink. He, then, looks up and catches your stare. Caught red handed. 

But the male smugly smirks, “you’re going to pretend you didn’t see that, like how half of this room pretended to not see you grinding on Jeno.” 

“You’re complete scum, I can’t believe you just roofied someone’s drink.” You yell in utter disbelief at the unwavering man. His disgusting smirk changes into a menacing smile.

He approaches you, his height allowing him to tower above. You gulp, scared at how he can easily overpower you at any second.

“And what are you going to do about it? What? Jeno didn’t loosen you up enough?” His revolting hot breath beating down your nose, invading every corner of your personal space. 

Before you can find any insult to speak back, his figure goes flying sideways and out of your face. It’d be a lie to not admit your heart skipping a beat at the sight of Jeno’s clenched fists and locked jaw. His sharp gaze watches as the stranger gets up from the ground, inflammation already growing on his left cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck!” He shouts angrily, holding his cheekbone as he winces at the pain. Immediately, the conversations are replaced with gasps, and small whispers at the sight. People gather around the living room to see the commotion. Even you are unsure how to react to the sudden fight.

The other man lunges at Jeno with full force, but Jeno stops him by grabbing the man’s collar, “this,” Jeno punches his lip, busting it open, “is for dropping a roofie in someone’s drink.”

The stranger groans at the impact, but still gets up with a fist straight for Jeno’s gut. Watching Jeno take a blow is much more difficult than you had been expecting.

He crouches over from the punch, but quickly regains his composure to put the man in a headlock. A few more gasps erupt and wonder if you should stop him before he does something unnecessarily stupid. 

“This,” the man squirms to try to get out of Jeno’s iron grip, “is for disrespecting my babygirl.” And with a shift snap, the male falls limp and unconscious.

A surprised intake of air and Jeno peers up at your scared expression. He calmly walks over to you, ignoring the swarm of people that had gathered around the scene. He can only see one thing — you. Jeno’s wandering eyes try to read your expression, but all he sees is a terrified girl.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, are you okay, (Y/N)?” 

Blinking blankly for a few moments, you are mortified at the laying body, “what did you do to him?” 

Jeno looks back at the stranger casually, “I put him to sleep for a bit. He’ll wake up in about 20 minutes.”

A rush of reassurance washes over you knowing that he is alive and Jeno didn’t just kill someone in front of you. You exhale all the anxiousness and nerves, 

“thank you for stepping in.”

“I don’t fight without a good reason. You are more than a perfect reason to fight for.” He pinches your cheek cutely, and his tough exterior fades away yet again. 

His famous eye smile that warms your insides is back as if the scary, intimidating expression didn’t exist a few seconds ago. Jeno’s good sides only appear with you. Nevertheless, you are happy to know how special you are to see them. 

“Violence is never the answer.” He nods, only taking it for a grain of salt. “Are you okay? It looked like stringbean knocked some wind out of your gut.”

The teddy bear thrusts himself forward into a fit of laughter, his head resting on your lap. His melody lights every dark corner inside of you. “He did get a good punch in there, didn’t he?”

His rumbling laughter stops, and he peers up at you. “I can’t believe you were still worried about a complete asshole.” 

Scoffing, you break the shared gaze. “I’m a compassionate human being.” Jeno stands up, extending his hand for you to take.

“I know, you’re the best kind of person.” He genuinely means it with the way his tone remains quite stern, eye contact unwavering. He is revealing more of his intimate parts, and in return, you wish for him to see your’s. 

Silence drowns out all the commotion between you two. Jeno grows shy at the way the galaxies reflect in your stare. “I--” Never once, did you think you would witness Lee Jeno stammer over his words. “I-I, let’s-- I want to take you for a drive.” 

To Jeno, a drive to him is equivalent to your hand in marriage. Even his own girlfriend has never been on a drive with him. It is a big part of his personality, given that he is a crucial member of the Ridin’ Club. However, out of all of them, he is the last one to flaunt his hobby. It is special, almost sacred to his entire being. 

“Me?” It is the dumbest question to ask, but you really want to clarify his intentions. Before this night, you two were barely considered friends. You two never saw each other outside of the late night parties.

But now, Lee Jeno wants to take you on a drive. It makes you wonder if the desire of companionship is mutual, that he too pines to further your relationship.

“I’m not looking at anyone else,” Jeno still waiting for your hand and holding an intense eye contact. His heart lays exposed for you, just right on his sleeve. An innocence paints his usual intimidating aura, “let me show my special girl, what is special to me.” 

He must possess some magic because he knows every way to make you swoon. And like that, your palm meets his and he locks his fingers between yours. 

The moment you enter Jeno’s striking, eye catching car, you automatically relax into the leather seats. His pristine car matches his personality --- simple, but captivating. Your boyfriend’s car is the exact opposite, which is why you never enjoy sitting in it.

Jeno has pieces of himself that scatter his car, like an adorable small plushie that watches out the back window. A beaded lanyard dangles from his rear view mirror. It even matches his scent of a deep ocean breeze.

Unlike your boyfriend’s obnoxious details, Jeno did not have a light up stereo that flashed annoyingly to every beat drop in a song. Instead, a sweet lilac color illuminates at your feet, along with his. 

“You like what you see?” Jeno catches you astonish at the tiny aspects of the interior. 

“Of course, it’s yours. It’s exactly like how I would imagine it to be.” Jeno is proud, hearing you praise his car. Even he can admit, it is a bit weird to be so connected to an inanimate object.

Nevertheless, his car, racing, driving became a huge part of his life. And unlike his friends, he feels rather shy and slightly embarrassed for being such a geek. 

But hearing you actually appreciating the small details of his car when you probably hate every aspect of racing due to your boyfriend’s doing, it makes him feel very happy.

Maybe happy is an understatement, more like overjoy at how you freely can recognize the things that make him content. You respect him, and are mindful that as mundane as a car is, you know that it is something important to him.

Silence becomes the majority of the ride out of the quiet, suburban neighborhood. While Jeno’s eyes remain focused on the road ahead, you are concentrated on him.

He drives with one hand on the wheel as he rests his elbow on the middle console. His eyebrow creases here and there. It is the most normal, mundane activity anyone can do --- drive. That is all he is doing, yet the effect it suddenly has on you can not go unnoticed. 

Abruptly, with the rev of the engine and a press on the gas, the car practically flies on the empty freeway. It catches you off guard, causing you to hold onto the grab handle. Jeno peeks over at your shocked figure, and smiles to himself.

“Relax, (Y/N).” He calls your name, reaching over to rub your thigh as a way to calm your anxiousness. Automatically, your hand grips onto his for support and the other one drops from the handle. 

Exhaling, your eyes are trained ahead. The car is moving so fast that you can’t even make out anything around you. Everything becomes nothing, but colorful streaks against a dark background. The gravity against your chest feels crushing.

“How-- How fast are you going?” 

Jeno glances at the speedometer and intertwines your fingers into his own. “I don’t think I should tell you that, you might actually have a heart attack.” 

The window rolls down and you are hit with rumbling wind, “I know you’re scared right now, so stick your head out the window and take a deep breath.”

You look at him in pure fear, “what?! I can’t even move, let alone stick my head out the window!”

Jeno shakes his head, “trust me. Please, trust me.” He needs you to experience the same thrill he does. His own adrenaline is through the roof, out the entire atmosphere of the vehicle. The amount of joy he is experiencing became tenfold now that you are sitting beside him. 

You trust him and very meticulously, go against the wind. Your hair crazily dances along with the rush and your eyes water from being dried out. Adjusting to the pressure, you also stick your hand out the window. It whips backward, but you feel the wind slip between your fingers.

The rise in heartbeat and excitement pump through your veins. The beauty in the white streaks that create a runway, it is nothing but you and the open space. There is no other way to explore it, except at a high pace. You understand why Jeno loved it so much. 

Jeno bounces between the road and half of your figure out his window. Your eyes are closed initially, before you barely squint open. Tears fly by with strands of your hair, but you start to move your hand to physically feel the thrill pass between your fingers.

Then he sees it in the side mirror: the sweet curve in your lips he loves the most and the wideness of life in your eyes. It only makes him press the gas harder.

“That was incredible! You should take me riding with you more.” You marvel at him as he starts the route to your place. It is complete playfulness that hints in your tone because you are aware of how sacred these are to him. Nevertheless, a part of you still hopes he agrees to do so.

Jeno nods, “only because I like you,” He pauses, gauging your reaction with his side eye gaze, “a lot.”

Your heart sinks to an unsettling place in your stomach. Jeno could not possibly be serious, however, his tone no longer matches the playfulness of your own. It almost seems like he is telling the truth. But you didn’t want to believe that. 

Your eyes make a full circle before settling at the disappearing sidewalks, “stay in your lane, Jeno.” It is to keep the mood still light, you and Jeno aren’t ones to be serious. 

His hand has been on your thigh for the whole night, whether it be out of habit or comfort. His touch is always welcoming and warm, but suddenly, you feel the small squeeze on your flesh. Turning your attention on his face, you can see how a smirk has grown. 

“But yours seems much more fun.” Immediately, your stomach leaps with somersaults. Your throat gets dry and tight, not anticipating that response. 

“Beside, you can’t act like we both haven’t swerved. It was barely moments ago that you were cum---”

“---No need to further explain.” 

“And I’d proudly do it again.” His voice drops several decibels and his hand slowly snakes it’s way up your thigh. All the while, his eyes still on the road ahead.

You gulp as every heartbeat constricts your throat. Lifting the ends of your skirt higher to expose more, you secretly want Jeno to cause your legs to shake again. “D-Do what again?”

Jeno perks up to the sweetness of curiosity in your tone. He pulls up to a red stoplight, being able to finally look over to your innocent face and needy hands gripping the cute, thin fabric. He stares deeply into your eyes, “make my baby cum.” 

Similarly to the stoplight, you give Jeno the green light to pull your panties to the side. You spread your legs wide as his finger massages your pussy lips. He gets dangerously close to your erect clit, barely skimming over it. 

A needy, yet delicate moan escapes your lips and Jeno’s jaw tightens. He’s more upset that he’s missing the view of your legs spread, open mouth in ecstasy, half lid eyes all in the passenger seat of his car. He hopes for another red light, just so he can peek over at your delicious figure.

“Jeno, please touch me.” Your voice is airy and desperate. He hummed in response, completely withdrawing his hand from your core. However, you catch his wrist and bring it to rest on your inner thigh. “Please.” 

The distinct beg in your tone drives him crazy. As he dips his finger into your sudden wetness, a shiver runs up your spine. Right when he applies minimal pressure on your bundle of nerves, you jolt and close your thighs around his hand.

One touch already feels too good to be true, that finally someone, Lee fucking Jeno, is actually touching your nakedness. Peering down, Jeno’s arm is flexing in between your legs. His veins popping ever so slightly and his tattoos paint his smooth skin. 

“Open your legs, babe.” His low devilish chuckle rumbles in your lower abdomen. “Let me give you the lovin’ you’ve been deprived of.” 

You shudder at his cadence and slowly pry open your legs. Jeno stops at a red light and gets to see your reaction as he rubs you in a fast rhythmic pace. A soft cry yelps from your throat and you have to grip the handle to keep yourself from spazzing out any further. 

Almost like a trance, he doesn’t notice that the light turns green. He’s locked into the sight of your contorting body. Your hips have a mind of its own, yet again, as Jeno feels you rolling deeper into his touch.

“Poor baby, you’re so touch starved that you can’t control yourself.” 

“It feels better when you do it.” You whine, your lip being bruised from your biting. But your eyes notice the green illumination and you blink over at Jeno.

He is practically drooling at the sight of you, his eyes are trained at your needy hips and dripping wet core that soaks his fingers. You stop every urge to steal more kisses from him.

Jeno briefly recovers from the trance and steps on the gas. He takes this opportunity to ease a finger into the core, causing you to exclaim and squeeze around his digit. “Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“More, Jeno.” The way his name rolls off of your tongue makes his heart flutter and his dick to raise in his jeans. Without much hesitation, he slowly slips in another finger and you moan at the stretch. Pumping and curling, he ensures that you are enjoying every action.

His fingers curl against your plushy flesh and your legs spread wider for him to go deeper. You’re a moaning mess when he curls up to your sweet spot, rubbing his fingertips quickly. The familiar queasy feeling builds in your lower regions, and Jeno becomes merciless with his fingers.

He guides them in and out of you, feeling your tightness release and invite him back in. The sloppy wet noises fill the car and drown out the engine. Your half lidded eyes bounce at Jeno’s unbothered figure and the entire scene seems absolutely unbelievable to you.

One hand on the wheel. The other knuckles deep in your pussy. Eyes focus on the road ahead. A comfortable man spread. His hair is messy from the long night.

It is all too unbelievable, that Jeno’s already giving you a second climax of the night when you could barely get one in a year before. And he loves touching you as much as he loves driving. 

However, the guilty raises as fast as the ball of tension in your gut. You two pull up in front of your apartment building, while Jeno’s tugging his fingers against your flesh aggressively. In a split second, you hold onto his wrist to stop him. 

He shifts into park when the car settles into a spot and peers over to you. A curious expression daunts onto him, rather concern that he might have been too much. “I’m starting to feel guilty.” 

Jeno nods, and retrieves his fingers out of your dripping core. The feeling of emptiness causes all the built up pressure to dissipate.

“I understand,” he begins, but pauses at the sight of your sticky juices glistening on his fingers. Your eyes widen as he licks them clean, a soft moan escaping from the back of his throat. 

The small action spikes your heart rate and you rub your legs together. With a pop! Jeno hums delightfully, “baby, you taste so good. I’m a little sad I won’t be tasting more, especially directly from the source.” His lustful eyes glance down at your thighs and back to your profile. 

“I’ll walk you up to your apartment.” He says way too casually, unbuckling his seat belt. A mixture of emotions are running through your head. There is guilt, but lust is too powerful to ignore, especially when it’s Lee Jeno. The damage is already done, right? It’s not like it wasn’t moments ago that you humped him in the middle of a party. 

“Wait,” your hands find themselves gripping onto his leather jacket tightly. Jeno gently reaches over to release your strong grip and replaces the leather with his hand. 

“Yes, babygirl?” Jeno’s round, friendly eyes meet yours. The lust clouded darkness is no longer there. His hand feels hot and somewhat rough. 

“I’m going to break up with my boyfriend, so promise me, you’re not going to dip out of my life afterwards… I don’t need you to be anything more than a friend. I just can’t lose you too.”

He turns around in his seat to face you comfortably. “I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I can’t stay away from you, let alone have the ability to leave you.” He reassures you with a soothing and calm tone. His thumb draws circles around your knuckles. “I’m always going to be your friend, whether or not I know how you taste.” 

“Do you still want to try it … you know, from the source?” You shyly ask, an innocence embodying your gaze and voice cadence.

Jeno raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. “I’d love to, only if you let me.” 

Instantly, you shift to get on your lower back. Jeno watches as you excitedly position yourself open for him and actually finds your eagerness quite adorable. Your left leg bends behind the driver’s seat and your right rests on the dashboard. 

He hooks his arms underneath your thighs to pull you forward towards him and your whole body slides against the leather. With a slow lift, your skirt reveals your drenched panties. Rolling them off and tossing them to the back seat, he lays eyes on your still dripping pussy. Jeno takes a second to admire your flower, this being his first time he’s seen such a private part of you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” He chuckles deeply, before his tongue licks a long strip up to your clit. You exclaim out of the tingling pleasure that seized your insides.

He flattens his tongue against your bundle of nerves, flicking and circling. His finger enters your pussy again, curling up to rub at the same pace he is licking. The pure sight of Jeno’s head in between your legs is enough for butterflies to explode. 

His sole motive is to make you feel good. There is nothing else in the world that he wants at this moment beside pleasure to overtake your body. Jeno eats you out like he hasn’t had a meal in months. His mouth wraps around your clit. The mixture of his flicks and sucks cause electric bolts to run down your legs. 

You get more wet as Jeno pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your juices are practically dripping onto the interior of the car, but Jeno doesn’t care.

He fucking loves it. He loves the taste of you lingering on his tongue. Your breathless moans. Your waterfall dripping on uncontrollably. The view of you unwinding because of him. Nothing can be more perfect. 

Running your hands through his messy locks, you press him closer into you. A devilish smile draws on his face as he flicks his tongue side to side. “Oh, fuck! I’m.. so c--close.” 

Your back arches upward into Jeno’s mouth, feeling his muscle lick harder and faster on your throbbing clit. He adds a second finger, and the simultaneous stimulation practically throws you into another dimension. The pleasure overtakes your entire lower half, your legs trembling from pure ecstasy as you approach your orgasm.

“Don’t stop, I’m going to---” Then, Jeno pulls away and shoves his tongue into your warmth. A gasp hits the air as he also continues to rub circles on your sensitive nerves. His tongue fucked your pussy incredibly skillfully and deliciously. With this switch, your legs violently shake and try clamping together.

However, his strength holds you wide and open for display. A low grunt follows suit as his dark eyes zone in on your contoured facial expressions. Then, the white light blind you once again and the ball of tension unravels itself on Jeno’s tongue. Squirming and screaming, your hips buck forward on their own. 

It is close to being too catastrophic, this being the most intense orgasm you’ve had after a whole year. Nevertheless, the satisfaction is right on the tips of your toes and you greedily indulge in the euphoric moment. Jeno feels your walls squeeze around his muscle as he laps every last bit of you up.

He is absolutely addicted to your juices, making sure he catches every drop. Finally pulling away, he wipes the extra drip on the back of his hand. Jeno blinks at your raising chest and limp legs. Chuckling, his warm hand massages feeling back into your body.

“Do you want me to carry you back up?” His hoarse, raspy voice wakes you from your post orgasm daydream. You flutter your lashes at him fondly and happily nod at his offer. 

Getting out of the car, Jeno walks over to the passenger side and your arms rest nicely around his neck. His palms support your butt, but also smoothing your skirt over to cover your decency. A poke against your outer thigh makes you realize that Jeno is strained against his jeans.

“I can take care of you too.” You pout cutely at Jeno, but he shakes his head.

“It’s not about me tonight. It’s about you.” Leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, his eyes turn into moon crescents from his lovable smile. The kind, friendliness makes an appearance again.

Or so you think! In a sheer second, Jeno’s deep voice rumbles your stomach and his hooded eyes pierce your soul, “next time though, I’m fucking you real good, babe.” 

You hum in response. Saliva collects in your mouth, already looking forward to more of Jeno. But a chilly draft brushes up your exposed area as Jeno carries you up the flight of stairs.

“Wait, Jeno… I don’t have my underwear on.” The ‘Level 3’ sign is in view as Jeno turns to walk. 

He only laughs and shrugs nonchalantly, “it’s better that way anyways.” Without another word, he continues upward to your floor and you playfully punch his solid chest. In all honesty, that’s not going to be the only time you leave behind your panties in his beloved car. 

Your hatred for the notorious Ridin’ Club subside after such a wild night. If anything, you owe it all to your shitty ex-boyfriend for joining such a ridiculous club. Without him and the club’s existence, who knows if Lee Jeno would’ve still swerve into your lane. 

#lee jeno #jeno scenarios #nct smut #jeno smut #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream scenarios #nct jeno #jeno #nct scenario #nct 127 scenarios #wayv #nct dream series #nct dream reactions #nct 127 smut #nct #nct dream imagines #lee jeno scenarios #nct u #nct 127 #nct hard hours #kpop smut #cznnet #neowritingsnet #ridinclub

[lilyofthesword-writes]

The Intern (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: Loki takes an interest in the latest of a long line of Stark’s interns.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (Can be read as platonic, if preferred)

Word Count: 2,809

Disclaimers/Warnings: None. Just a bit of fluff.

A/N: This wound up turning into something entirely different from the original concept. Just kinda went with what felt right. Also trying desperately to remember working with an Arduino board to make this at least semi-accurate.

Masterlist

Loki traipsed aimlessly through the Tower, his overly-friendly insomnia having kept him up past four in the morning again. Nothing seemed to help him sleep and he constantly grew bored laying around in his room waiting for exhaustion to overtake him. Wandering about seemed as good as anything. Sometimes he would come across something interesting. It seems now would be that time.

He rounded the corner and found himself gazing through the wall-length windows of Tony Stark’s lab. The armor-less Iron Man was passed out in a chair, head haphazardly lolling on a table. Usually, he was still working and would be until at least seven a.m. before Pepper would literally drag him to bed.

Movement at the other end of the room caught his eye. There you were, pulling a blanket out of the cupboard. You crossed the lab and placed the well-used cloth over Stark’s shoulders before returning to your work. Sliding your safety glasses on, you put all your focus into soldering some wires to a board.

What in the nine realms were you doing here at this hour? The sun hadn’t even reached the horizon yet. None of his previous interns ever started their days before nine. Albeit, they had barely lasted a week while you broke a record at just over a month, but the point still stood. Why were you here?

“Are you just going to stand there like a creeper, Loki, or are you going to come in and hang out?” you called out, not even bothering to tear your eyes away from the wiring.

Well, this excursion could prove to be interesting. Loki slithered through the doorway to stand opposite of you at your table.

“So what are you doing up this early?” you murmured. If it weren’t for you glancing up at him, someone may have thought it was more of a question for yourself.

Loki huffed a laugh. “I could ask you the same question.”

That elicited a quirky smile from you. “Woke up way before my alarm and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I’d start my day early.” You gestured toward Stark with the soldering iron. “This one over here is pretty lenient on the hours.”

“I would hope so,” Loki chuckled, “considering his own schedule.”

“A schedule that consists of planned energy drink breaks. Definitely one of the more interesting employers out there.”

“I suppose you could say that,” he mumbled, leaning heavily on his forearms propped on the table.

You set down the soldering iron in its stand and shut if off. “So I answered your question. How about you?”

“I simply could not sleep,” he nonchalantly replied.

“Hmm...” you hummed. “Lemme guess. A member of Insomniacs Anonymous?”

His chuckle reverberated through the room. This was probably one of the reasons Stark kept you around. You certainly had a particular snarky confident air about you.

Yet the corners of your mouth suddenly hung low and your brow scrunched together. “It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Pardon?” He was confused at your change in demeanor.

“It’s not as simple as you couldn’t sleep. There’s more to it.”

Loki’s lips parted in astonishment. Here you were in your first true encounter with him and you read him like an open book. What had you been told?

“I won’t make you say anything.” You held your hands up in a placating manner. “You probably don’t want to, and that’s okay. However.” You grabbed the notepad next to you and scribbled something on it, ripping off the paper and sliding it towards him. “If you’re ever bored and I’m not here, you can text me. I’ll probably answer.”

He reluctantly took the note that had your number written on it. “I cannot say I am very adept with these cellular devices.”

“Pretty sure you’re clever enough to figure it out,” you grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “But seriously, no pressure. The offer is always out there.”

“Wha?!” Stark snorted himself awake, his eyes shooting around wildly. “Rudolf? What’re you doing here?” He eyed Loki suspiciously. “You’re not going to scare away my intern, are you? That’s my job.”

You laughed, keeping Loki from spitting a venomous retort. “Good luck with that. You’ll have to try a lot harder if that’s what you’re going for, Stark.”

“Obviously. You haven’t run off yet. I’m surprised.” He took the blanket that was wrapped around him and began folding it. “Pleasantly surprised.”

“Sure, sure!” You waved him off.

Stark looked at his watch and swiped a hand through his purposely messy bed head. “It’s that time already. I better get breakfast before Pepper finds me... Alright!” He clapped. “Both of you, let’s go! Time for grub!”

Loki’s eyebrows shot up across his forehead. Was Stark actually having him join the two of you for breakfast?

“Yes, you too, Reindeer Games! One, I don’t want you in the lab alone.” That earned him Loki’s scowl. “Two, you seem to be behaving, so why not have you eat with us.”

You nudged Stark’s arm while shooting Loki an inconspicuous wink. “Awww, look at you! Already getting into Dad Mode and little Morgan hasn’t even entered the world yet.”

He nudged you back. “Yeah, yeah, yeah! Now come on. I’m starving!”

You continued to tease him as you followed him out of the lab with Loki close behind.

Loki lay in bed a few nights later, lost in thought. He could not get you out of his head. You had spoken with him like you would anyone else, deflected and stood up for him despite hardly knowing him. In the few years since he had been thrown to Midgard as punishment, Thor was the only one to show him a sliver of kindness, but even he held some hesitation. You did not. Your earlier interaction was genuine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it all.

In his perpetual deliberation, he had avoided the lab since that morning. Not that he didn’t like you. It was the uncertainty that kept him away, but that wouldn’t last much longer.

His phone settled lax in his hand, your name illuminating the screen. You had been right about him being able to learn how to text. Now it was a matter of completing the action. Tossing the phone to his other hand, he glared at the bright screen. His message had already been written. All he had to do was select “Send”. The clock at the top of the screen read two a.m. Surely, you would be asleep... But what if you weren’t?

With a huff, he pinched his eyes shut and hit the button, the swooshing sound seemingly echoing off the walls. The following silence was deafening. Luckily for him, the reply swoosh fell inline shortly after.

You: Hey, Loki. Can’t sleep?

Loki: How did you know who this was without me saying?

You: I can’t think of anyone else who would text me at this hour. ;)

Loki: I apologize if I woke you.

You: Nah. Already up. Trouble staying asleep. So what’re you up to?

Loki: Texting you.

You: Other than that, Mischief

Loki: Thinking.

You: Yeah? About what?

Loki: Possibly meandering through the Tower, again.

You: Liar ;)

Loki: Pardon?

You: You were obviously thinking about me.

Loki: What makes you say that?

You: You had to be. At least in the context that it would be better to text me than exploring.

Loki: Fair enough. Now, how do you know I am not planning to choose both?

You: You got me there.

—

Loki met you at the lab later that morning. The familiar sight of Stark was passed out, snuggling his face to a countertop, greeted you both.

Shaking your head, you huffed a laugh as you passed through the doorway. “Can’t really reprimand him when my sleep schedule is just as bad.”

Loki’s lips curled into a light smirk but didn’t speak a word lest Stark awaken and force him to leave. Despite your two hour texting session, he had been looking forward to joining you here.

“Thanks for meeting me here, by the way,” you called out to him as still stood just at the edge of the lab. “A little company while working is kind of nice. Gets too quiet when Stark finally shuts down.”

Taking a seat across from you, Loki quirks an eyebrow. “Would that not be considered a blessing?”

You stifled a chuckle as you flipped on the soldering iron and pulled out what roughly looked like a vambrace. The board you had been working on previously was molded to the shape. “If that happened by the end of my workday, yes. This early in the morning? Not so much. It’s boring if not a little eerie.”

“I see... So I am only here for your entertainment,” he feigned offense.

You gasped dramatically, “Me? Never!”

Laughing with you, Loki made himself a bit more comfortable as he watched you work. At the moment, you were adding tiny capacitors and securing them into place.

“If I may, what are you trying to accomplish?”

“Well,” you started, glancing up at him. “It’s a new piece of armor. Other than that, I technically shouldn’t say much else.”

“Right... Classified information?”

There was a twinkle of mischief in your eyes as you looked at him again. “It is a secret, but nothing quite as official as that.”

Loki leaned across the tabletop, supporting his chin in his hand. “So there is no harm in you revealing your project,” he tested.

“Harm? No. However, there will be disappointment on my end if you figure it out.”

“I accept this challenge,” he grinned playfully.

You smirked back,“As you wish, Mischief. I won’t make this easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Darling.”

The next several weeks chaotically blurred together. At first, you allowed Loki to observe your project as you worked on it. Once the vambrace began to take on a more unique form, you were hiding it in the mornings, opting to take on a different assignment when he was in the room. The design was strikingly Asgardian, leading him to believe the new armor was for Thor. He just needed to figure out what it did. He spoke with his brother on multiple occasions but was unable to glean anything from him. Either he had no clue or suddenly learned to lie well enough to fool Loki, the latter highly doubtful.

Apart from politely harassing you via text, Loki took to locating your hiding spots, something that proved difficult when the lab was almost always occupied by you, Stark or Banner at varying times. Stark was helping you keep this little secret, a sparkle in his eyes whenever he shooed Loki from the room when he was caught investigating. Even Banner was in on it, albeit reluctantly.

Then there was that Doctor Strange who was showing up every few days, joining you all in the lab much to Loki’s chagrin. By that point, Stark had banned him from the entire floor. The project must have been coming to a close if you all were trying to cover it up so desperately. But why Strange? Was he imbuing the vambrace with magic to protect Thor better? (Not that he really needed it.) His curiosity was certainly getting the better of him, going so far as to shape-shift as one of you three when Strange wasn’t around to get into the room. Somehow, Friday always knew and alerted the lab’s occupants who would send him back to the elevator.

It was early one morning as he was perusing the contents of the shared kitchen that you initiated contact with him. He was surprised since he had been the one to text you first lately to see if you would spill your secret.

You: Hey. Can you stop by the lab?

Loki: Oh? I thought I was banned.

You: Lifted as of a few minutes ago. So?

Loki: I suppose I might be able to grace you with my presence.

You: So kind of you, my King ;)

His heart skipped a beat at you calling him “your King”. You only used it in a teasing fashion when he was acting high and mighty. Even then, it still flustered him.

Loki made his way to the elevator, deeming it a bit devious to take the long way to the lab. You had made him wait all this time. It was your turn.

The doors reopened on the lab floor, revealing that his ploy to annoy had worked. You were leaned against the wall next to the elevator, waiting for his arrival.

“Finally! Come on!”

You audaciously grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the room with an impatient grin. Stopping him near your normal workstation, you demanded he close his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he responded incredulously, ripping his arm from your grasp.

“Please, Loki...” Your pleading eyes grew larger as you pouted at him.

Stark groaned, “Just do it, Reindeer Games, or I’ll cover them for you.”

Loki’s lips reared into a snarl as he glared at the billionaire before relenting and clenching his eyelids shut. Norns, how he hated those nicknames.

“Okay!” Excitement laced your voice. “Would you hold up your dominant hand?”

“Making more demands, Darling?”

“I did ask nicely this time.”

“That you did,” he chuckled a complied, holding out a hand.

“Perfect!”

He felt a metallic weight placed on his forearm before it was clasped together with a comfortable tightness.

“Okay. You can look now!”

The sight of the vambrace on his arm left Loki’s mouth agape. The main black of the piece was lined with gold Asgardian knot designs with runes placed in a handful of the empty spaces. Near his wrist, an artificial emerald was embedded in the armor. If he had to be completely honest, the aesthetics could rival much of the armor back home.

“Well, Kid. It looks like you rendered him speechless.” Stark nudged your arm.

Loki’s gaze shot up to the two of you. Stark was leaning against the workstation while you had hoisted yourself to sit atop it, nothing but grins on either of your faces.

“What is this-”

You cut him off, “It’s for you. We noticed after some of your missions where you had to use your seiðr more than usual, you’d end up exhausted before getting back to the Quinjet. The new armor should help with that. It’s supposed to amplify your magic without draining you.”

Stark shoved you lightheartedly, again. “The kid noticed. Told ‘em if they could come up with something that could work, I’d give whatever resources needed for the project.”

“So what do you think? I mean we still need to undergo more testing and calibrations before you can use it in the field, but-”

“You made this?” Loki locked barely tearing eyes with you. “For me?”

“Yup! Kid designed the whole thing!” Stark kept you from answering. “Minus the bits we had to bring Strange in for the wizard-y things, this was a solo run. Did a pretty good job. Not sure I could have done much better.”

“Stark...” you grumbled, clearly not used to the praise.

“This is...” Loki tore his gaze away back to the vambrace. “I don’t... I don’t know what to say.” His voice was just loud enough for you to hear.

“A ‘thank you’ would be a good start. Now maybe this little intern will get more sleep,” Stark blundered before checking his watch. “Well, it’s about time for my morning scolding. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me!”

With that he whisked himself out of the room and to the elevator, leaving you and Loki in a terribly awkward silence.

“Hey...” you started. “If you don’t like it, we can scrap the design. It’s not a big deal-”

“Thank you.” His pupils were filled with a sincere gratefulness that few had ever seen before. “This is... This is simply splendid.”

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

Loki spun on his heel to fully face you, his hands coming to rest on the countertop on either side of you. “I mean it, Darling. This... No one has ever done something like this for me before. I would be honored to be your test subject,” he ended with a smirk.

“Well, if that’s the case,” you grinned right back at him, “I’d say let’s get some breakfast first. There will be plenty of time to optimize the vambrace later.”

Pulling back enough to release you from his cage of arms, he gestured for you to lead the way. “After you,” he breathed.

Hopping down from the table, you held out a hand for him. Hesitantly, Loki took it while running a thumb over your knuckles as you pulled him to the elevator with you.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki marvel #loki friggason #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #marvel avengers #loki of asgard #loki fluff #avengers #the avengers #tony stark #iron man #pepper potts #bruce banner #doctor strange #thor odinson #thor marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[sleepy-belphie]

Control

Pairing: Lucifer x gn!reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Lucifer had no problem keeping himself under control, until he met you.

Warnings: Corruption kink (i think thats it, lmao)

a/n: So the lovely @sevensins-stuff decided it would be haha funny to send me this ask. It influenced me to make this drabble/blurb/scenario???? I don’t know what this is really but I hope you enjoy! It’s my first smut piece so I hope it’s okay <3

~~~~~

There was something in the way you looked at Lucifer when you were on your knees and waiting for his command that made him go feral. 

You had been such a sweet little thing when he met you for the first time. When you arrived he was sure there had been a mistake and you were actually from the Celestial Realm. He hadn’t ever seen a human basically glow with kindness. You walked around all these demons without a care in the world because of your obliviousness. You were always thoughtful and kind to him and his brothers. You were nothing but good through and through.

And it drove him insane.

But not in the way it did with the second eldest, who frequently called you a goody two shoes. To be frank, it really turned him on. 

He tried to ignore it. You were a human, you were the exchange student, you were absolutely off-limits. Yet he found himself sitting in his study with his pen in his hand, thinking about bending you over the desk he was working on. He would think about the sounds you’d make when he spanked your ass and thighs. He would think about how you’d scream while he pounded you into the hardwood. He’d realize he snapped his pen in half while daydreaming about you, again. That was his 4th pen this week.

Lucifer prides himself on his self-restraint. He was the eldest and the most mature which meant he could keep himself together in even the most stressful situations. Yet when you approach him in the kitchen one afternoon and ask him to walk you to RAD with those damn big, sweet eyes of yours he feels like he is a hair away from losing it. 

He starts avoiding you, pushing Mammon to do even more ‘human duties’ so he wouldn’t have to see you much besides meals. But of course, he can’t control your actions. So when you stroll into his study while he’s working late one night in your really short pajama shorts and a tank top with your nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric, he barely manages to not let his demon form come out.

You couldn’t sleep and saw he was awake so you wanted to keep him company for a bit until you got sleepy. A simple request overall, he couldn’t find it in him to turn you away. Even if he wanted to leap over his desk, rip your pajamas off, and leave marks on every inch of your body. He nods and you go and sit in a chair. He manages to focus enough to get through a bit more paperwork. When the clock strikes 2am, he glances over to find you had fallen asleep.

He couldn’t just leave you here, right? He had to take you back to your room and so he does. He watches your face as he walks down the hall, even when you were asleep you looked like one of the purest beings to ever grace his presence. Considering he was an angel at one point, that’s saying a lot. 

He sets you down on your bed but as he’s about to straighten up, you grab his arm. 

“Oh, my apologies if I woke you MC. Go back to sleep,” Lucifer says gently as he starts to walk away.

But your hands don’t loosen on his sleeve.

“Stayyyy.” You tug on his arm, half asleep and very clingy.

“I...don’t think that’s a good idea.” Lucifer sighs.

He could easily pull out of your grip and leave, but the logical and impulsive parts of him were at odds and he couldn’t decide which he should listen to.

“Pleaseeee? Just for a little, it was so easy to fall asleep with you around.” 

The moment you pouted at him with those taunting, sweet eyes of yours, he knew he was going to give in. It won’t take long. You’re already half asleep. He could control himself. Perhaps he may have been able to control himself, had you actually gone back to sleep. Instead, when he lays down next to you, you turn to face him. 

“You can’t sleep with your eyes on me, MC.” Lucifer teases with a small smile.

Yet you don’t close your eyes. His smile falls as a look of confusion crosses his face. Then, you lean over and gently peck his lips. It’s a chaste kiss, your lips barely meet for a second. For a moment Lucifer's mind is blank. He is in pure shock, still trying to process what happened. His eyes meet yours and you look up him shyly, playing with your fingers. Even after kissing a powerful demon you manage to look at him with such sweet innocence like you were caught with your hand in the cookie jar. 

He finally snaps.

It takes less than a second for him to be on top of you, one hand cupping your cheek while he rests on his arm so his full weight wasn’t on you. His lips are back on yours with a lot more force and hunger. Lucifer can feel himself shifting, his horns, wings, and diamond emerging as you take over his every sense. He could only feel your soft skin under his hand, your lips on his eager and responsive. Your sweet scent completely surrounding him, almost suffocating but he couldn’t get enough of it. Your hands gripping his waistcoat and pulling as if he could somehow get closer to you. It’s only when you pull away, desperate for air that he realizes what he’s doing. 

“Tell me to stop.” He demands, his voice low as he shuts his eyes and wills himself to get it together before this goes any further.

All he needed was to hear you say no. To tell him to stop. His conflicting mind would be cleared with a simple word. 

“I-I don’t want you to.” 

That makes the fire in him reignite tenfold. His entire body stiffened, like a wolf ready to pounce on prey. 

“You...have no idea what you’re saying. What you’re agreeing to.” Lucifer says, voice tense as he holds on desperately to the small semblance of control he’s managed to find. 

“I like you. I don’t want you to stop. Please don’t stop, Lucifer.”

Just like that, that bit of control disappears and he spends the entire night indulging in his deepest desires with you. That night was the catalyst for your current arrangement. Over the next few months, he conditions you into being the perfect little cockslut and he loves every second of it. 

Loves seeing you go from being too shy to look him in the eye once you were naked to keeping your teary eyes on him while you tried to fit his length down your throat. Loves hearing your quiet, soft moans turn into loud, desperate babbling of how good he felt and how badly you wanted to cum. Loves seeing your pristine, unmarked skin become littered with hickeys, bites, and handprints. Loves how you went from unsure about your desires to bringing him the toys you want him to use on you that night. Loves seeing your sweetness and purity drain from you as you serviced him and pleased him however he wanted. 

Who knew he could gain something so precious by losing control?

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x you #lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #i hope this was okay!