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turtletaubwrites · 5 months

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I Won't Waste It ~ Part 7

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,738

This is part 7 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You set ground rules with the cook and the swordsman, and spend some much needed time with a friend. Zoro speaks up.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Reader-Insert, Smut, Alcohol, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Swearing, Casual Sex, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Condoms, Shameless Smut, Hair Pulling, Aftercare, Friends With Benefits, Crewmates With Benefits, Relationship Discussions, Zoro is a dick at first, but he's learning

A/N: Alright friends, please don't get mad! Zoro can be a dick, but we love character growth over here! I hope you enjoy this installment, and the next will be posted tomorrow! 😊 (Y'all can thank medical leave for these quick updates, today was the first day I've left my house in a week, lol)

Scowling at your morning reflection, you leaned your elbows over the sink. I’m fucking beat.

You took a little extra time getting ready to try to make up for your exhaustion. Especially since breakfast was starting to feel like a battlefield.

As you greeted everyone, you noticed Zoro leaning against the wall. He followed, and sat next to you. Robin’s knowing smirk made you bite your lip, looking down at your plate.

Zoro kept a grip on your thigh under the table, while Sanji brought you a caramel latte with a flower design on the foam. Usopp had asked you something, but you couldn’t hear over the assault of attention, until your captain spoke up.

“I told you Usopp, Y/N’s sick. Chopper, can fevers make you go deaf?”

“Actually yes, a high fever can cause cochlear damage-”

“She’s not sick, she’s just been having trouble sleeping. Right, Y/N?”

Nodding, you gave Robin a grateful smile.

Needing some air, you avoided their eyes and walked out on deck, yawning as you stretched.

“You’re coming to my room tonight.”

Zoro’s whispered demand tickled across your neck before you turned to face him.

Yawning again, you leaned toward him.

“I can’t tonight, Zoro. I need to get some rest.”

Your breath hitched when you saw his eyes shift, and you took a small step back.

“What, now that cook treats you like a little princess, and you don’t want to fuck me?”

The sound of a lighter sparked behind him.

“I believe the lady told you she wanted a break, Marimo.”

Zoro spun, his fingers touching the handle of a sword.

“Fucking stop it, both of you. I’m not a piece of meat to fight over.”

Sanji looked at you with wide eyes, while Zoro clenched his jaw. You glared at him, stepping forward again. “And Zoro, I enjoy our time together, but there’s a line. You agreed to this, so speak up if you can’t handle it.”

Zoro’s lips pursed a bit, and it looked like he was grinding his teeth while you continued.

“Clearly we need some ground rules.”

You sighed, walking over to the railing. You caught Nami waving from the crows nest, and you held in a laugh, grateful to know she was there.

When you turned around you could almost see the violence in the air between them

Oh fuck, what have I gotten myself into.

“Okay, rule number one; no fighting over me. The whole point of this arrangement is to keep things casual, and I won’t put myself in the middle of your feud.”

Zoro's veins pulsed in his arms as he clenched his fists, and Sanji seemed to be desperately trying to ignore Zoro’s presence.

“Rule number two; no one gets their feelings hurt when I want to take a break. I’m fucking tired, and I’m not a doll you can use whenever you want.”

They both looked appalled, Sanji flashing hateful eyes toward Zoro as the swordsman swore, and started to apologize.

You held your hand out to stop them, and kept going, trying not to draw their eyes to the thumbs up waving from the crow’s nest.

“Rule number three; we need to come up with some sort of system to keep things fair. I don’t want to have to choose between you guys, and get caught in your pissing contest.”

Sanji looked at you with puppy dog eyes, while Zoro crossed his arms with his signature scowl.

You paused for a moment, feeling exhausted.

“So, what’s the system?”

“Let her catch her breath, moss head.”

“You don’t know what she needs, waiter.”

“Guys, seriously? Stop.”

They had leaned toward each other, and you could practically see their hackles rise.

But they went instantly silent at your words, and turned to face you.

You held in the shiver that ran through you at how these two powerful men just obeyed your command so quickly.

“Let’s alternate. One day with Zoro, then the next day with Sanji. And I get to take breaks without you destroying the ship.”

Zoro kept scowling, and Sanji still looked like everything you said was magic. Again, you had to bite back laughter at these two ridiculous men.

“Plus! You can both sleep with other people too!”

The blank stares they both gave you made you pause for a minute.

“... Okay then, good! Do we all agree to the terms?”

“Of course dear-“

“Sure-“

“Great! I’m going to get some work done.”

You practically ran away from them, chewing on the inside of your lip to keep from squealing. This is insane!

You didn’t want to spend the day in the kitchen making oils and tinctures until you’d seen Zoro again. They’d agreed to the rules, but you didn’t want to test his limit while he watched you spend the day with Sanji.

Instead, you spent it with Chopper. Now and then he’d share some interesting facts from his books while you were cataloging ointments, salves, and other supplies you’d made. Making sure they weren’t expired, and logging what you should make soon.

“We go through arnica cream like crazy, I’ll put that on our priority list.”

“Good thinking!”

It was so hard to be in a low mood around Chopper, and you found yourself smiling, even as you made your way through the hall to dinner.

“Y/N.”

Zoro’s voice was low behind you, and you took a breath before turning to meet his eyes. He was looking everywhere but you, and you’d never seen him with his shoulders slumped like this.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

You stared, watching him struggle, clearly feeling shitty about this.

“No, you shouldn't have.”

You said it with a soft voice, but stayed firm.

He nodded, meeting your eyes.

“It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

You nodded, releasing a breath.

“Thank you, Zoro. We can talk more tomorrow if you want. I’ll meet you in your room after dinner?”

Zoro’s lip twitched just a bit, and that tiny smile made you feel at ease. He nodded, heading into the galley.

After dinner, you walked toward your quarters in a daze.

Nami caught your eye in the hall, and she flashed a bottle of wine from under her jacket while nodding toward her room.

You closed the door behind you both, then mock hissed at her.

“You thief.”

“Former! Now I’m a pirate. And pirates plunder.”

She took a swig before handing it over.

“I figured you could use some company that isn’t trying to stick a flag in you.”

“Oh, you are so right.”

You probably should have gone to bed early, but you had needed this time with your friend. You’d managed to spend a decent amount of time not talking or thinking about boy drama, but it inevitably came back up.

And this time it was all your fault. Maybe I’ve had too much wine.

“Soo, Nami?”

“Uh huh?”

She’d been digging in her closet, but twisted around to face you.

“Would you, uh… Would you want to join an arrangement with either of them?”

Her mouth fell open, and she laughed loudly before clamping her hand over her face and sitting next to you.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to laugh like that.”

You were laughing yourself, leaning your head into your hands.

“No, it’s totally fine. This whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…”

Her tone had gone soft, almost serious, and your laughter faded.

“I just, I don't know. I've never been interested in that. I’ve tried before, but-”

She glanced at you, then shrugged before staring up at the ceiling.

“I know it sounds weird. I love to hear about it, but I just… don’t want to do it myself. With anyone. If that makes sense.”

You smiled at your friend, touching your hand to hers.

“It makes sense, Nami. I don’t think that’s weird at all.”

She beamed at you, and you felt shivers of warmth for your friend.

“I’m just bummed you won’t be able to carry some of this load for me.”

“Ha, ew! I don’t want any of that load, you can keep their junk all to yourself!”

Finally crashing in your room later, you felt so filled with happiness that you didn’t even think about tomorrow.

Luckily tomorrow included the boys on their best behavior, although they were still vying for your attention during meals.

I need to set another rule for that.

You felt Sanji’s eyes on you as you left after dinner, and shivered as you made your way to Zoro’s quarters.

He let you in, as if he’d been waiting behind the door. You half expected him to pin you against the wall. Instead he led you in, sitting on the floor across from his chair. You took a seat, barely breathing. This was not Zoro’s typical stoic silence. Your knees fought as you tried not to bounce them.

He started to speak, then coughed, clearing his throat a couple times.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

“I know-”

“I’m not good at this.”

He gestured vaguely between you, then looked away. You chewed your lip not to smile.

“I just. I like you. And I like what we’ve been doing together.”

“I’d say ‘like’ is an understatement, Needy.”

You caught yourself teasing his own words back at him before you could stop it. You had a second of panic, worried you’d pushed him too far.

Zoro looked up at you, his face tilted with that evil smile that made your pulse race.

He seemed to be fighting to keep his voice even, but the heat kept building.

“I promise to do better. Can you forgive me?”

Your breath was high in your chest as you felt the air shift around you.

“Yes, Zoro. I forgive you.”

He lifted onto his knees, coming only a fraction closer to you.

“Can I make it up to you?”

You gave a small gasp, and his smile of satisfaction made your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“Y-Yes, please.”

Zoro was suddenly kneeling between your legs in his chair, hand fisting in your hair. He gripped you hard enough to make you whimper, loving the feeling of him taking control. He licked along your neck, sucking and biting your earlobe as his free hand gripped its fingers into your thigh. He pulled your hair even tighter, and you cried out for him as he chuckled in your ear.

“I knew you needed me to touch you like this. You need me to hurt you, just a little bit. Don’t you, Y/N?”

You couldn’t keep your back from arching, and he used the hand on your thigh to pull you roughly until you were sitting on the edge of the chair, quivering for him.

“Should I repeat the question, Needy?”

His dangerous words had your body aching, wetness pooling between your thighs.

“No. I, uh-”

“What do you need?”

He breathed those words against your lips as his eyes burned into yours.

You could barely hear your desperate whisper as you answered him.

“I need you to hurt me, Zoro. Use me, please.”

He forced his tongue into your mouth. His kiss felt like he was taking from you, and you moaned into him.

You fell back into the chair as he released you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he pulled himself out of his pants, dragging a condom over his long, twitching cock.

“Wrists or throat?”

You looked back at his eyes, his growled words not registering.

“Pick one.”

“Uh, wri-wrists,” you whispered, almost panicked.

“Get on your knees.”

You joined him on the ground, heart pounding.

Zoro tore at your pants, dragging them down just above your knees before grabbing you by the hair again.

“Beg me.”

You almost went limp, his grip in your hair keeping you upright.

“P-Please fuck me, Zoro. Please let me feel your cock-”

Zoro shoved your head down to the side, and you caught yourself on your hands and knees. He moved behind you, and you whined. Needing him, dripping for him.

Feeling his length dragging along your skin, you begged even more. He leaned over you, grabbing and pulling you by the arms until you were upright, flush against the front of his body. He nipped along your neck while you shook.

“I’m gonna give you what you need. And I'm gonna take what I want. And you’re gonna keep your fucking mouth shut while I do it. Does that work for you, Needy?”

“Y-Yes, please, Zoro. I need you.”

He growled, and you gasped as he forced your arms behind your back. He pushed you forward, but held your wrists in one of his strong hands while he circled your entrance.

You chewed your tongue, panting with pain and pleasure as he slammed into you, so fucking deep. He used your arms like handles, pulling you while you whimpered, trying so hard not to scream.

Tears were streaming down your face, and you were overwhelmed, overpowered. Your pants still trapped at your thighs created so much pressure as he fucked you from this angle.

“That’s right, Needy. You want me to fucking use you. That’s why you’re being so good and quiet for me, huh?”

You nodded for him, whimpering as he shoved into you even harder.

“I can be that for you, Needy. I can be the one that makes you feel this way. Fuuck… Your pussy loves being used, doesn't it, baby?”

Tiny sobs left your lips as your body proved him right.

The angle he was holding you at was wearing you down, but he held your arms where he wanted you, forcing himself into your body as it tried to go limp.

You came on his cock, tears and drool leaving your face instead of screams. And he didn’t stop.

Zoro pushed you forward, using an arm to catch you before you hit the floor.

Then he shoved you face to the floor while he kept ramming into you.

“Finger yourself, Needy. I’m gonna take what I need now.”

Moaning, you tried to move your arms, but they were still almost numb from his grip. You didn’t need to though. The new angle, and Zoro’s groans above you brought you close again.

“Fuck, I know what this needy pussy wants, huh, Y/N?”

He fisted your hair as his thrusts became erratic. You moaned your ‘yes’ for him, writhing under his control.

“What do you need?”

Panting, you begged while he brought you again, your pussy milking him.

“I need your cock, Zo-Zor-”

You had to stop talking or you would have screamed. You shook under him, body bucking while you came so fucking hard. Even with your own body convulsing, you felt Zoro pulsing inside you, loving the moans he let out as he released.

You lay together, gasping and twitching, until the sensations were too intense and he pulled away, cleaning himself off while you tried to relearn how to breathe.

Zoro came back to you with a towel, cleaning you off before rolling you onto your back, and helping you slide your pants back on.

His face was unreadable, and you stopped yourself from asking if he was okay. He promised he’d use his words. I can’t let myself worry about his every expression, it’ll go too far.

You swallowed as you tried to listen to your own advice.

Then he sat against the wall again, dragging you to lay across his chest. Your breath froze as he gently stroked your arm while he rested his head against the wall to look at the ceiling.

You didn’t know what to say. This was the most awkward moment you’d felt with him so far, and you were trying so fucking hard to not take responsibility for this grown mans feelings.

“Thank you.”

You gingerly pushed yourself up, sitting against the wall beside him so you wouldn’t have to look up at him.

“For what?”

He met your eyes, his lips twitching into a small smile.

“For giving me another chance. I won’t waste it.”

Your lips parted as you stared into his deep, dark eyes. His words sounded so soft, so genuine. Your breath seemed caught in a strange moment, like you were somehow separate from the room you were in. Zoro didn’t look away.

“You’re welcome.”

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 8

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

Tag List: @astheni-a

A/N: I'd love to hear your thoughts on Zoro here. 💚 I hope you enjoyed the ride!

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #mine #One Piece smut #Opla smut #opla zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #x reader #turtletaub fics

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queenquinzel715 · 2 months

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Orc Thorald x Halforc Reader

Mature

Word count: 3,281

You've heard of my mother and father's love story, well this is mine. I am (y/n) daughter of Captain Rune, and I'm half orc half human. I take after my father mostly, but I'm much smaller than most orc women. You know I have a brother named Bain.

Over the years I've been helping my mother, and brother with the farm while my father was sailing around. When my brother turned fifteen he went to sail with our father permanently. They kept sailing for a few years until mother got sick. She got the flu, and didn't last the month. My father tried to sail, but only lasted a few months before coming back home. That's when my brother became captain. That's where my story begins. Thorald.

When I first met Thorald I was twelve, and he along with my brother were sixteen. Father docked for the winter, and Thorald with his father stayed in the barn. He had lost his mother that spring to a fire, and it made him quiet. If you weren't my father, his or my brother you might as well forget about him talking back to you. He would smile at me when I gave him blankets, and hot water to the barn. I guess that winter was when my crush started. Every winter after they would stay with us, and when I turned fourteen they built onto the house. Thorald and I would find ourselves in the kitchen at highmoon for sweets, and over the years we became very close.

When I turned nineteen my mother got sick. I found myself getting quiet, and working more than normal. I didn't notice until one night I was carrying carrot bags into the barn when I heard a deep throat being cleared. I turn to Thorald standing with the rest of the bags.

“(y/n)...” he starts as he places the bags down with the rest, and stands tall in front of me. “I need you to rest. I can't have you cold like me.” He lightly holds my hands. “Call me selfish, but I need you to keep being my happiness when I come home from sailing.” He kisses my fingers before leaving me in the barn.

She died that night. That winter they left, and they only returned to let father off.

-skip to beginning of Autumn-

Today started like any other day, I woke to my father humming his and my mother's song, and me needing to start breakfast. I throw my hair into a ponytail, change some of my earrings to different ones, and change into my work clothes. My brother is docking today, so I have to get the barn ready for the extra men needing a quiet place. I already cleaned up Bain, and Thorald's room yesterday.

As I'm laying down blankets, and baskets of food I hear the loudest group of degenerates enter my farm. I chuckle at my own joke as I walk out to meet them as they come around the house.

“(Y/n)!” Bain comes running at me at full speed.

“Bain NO!” I ran around the porch with him chasing me trying to reach me.

I see Thorald, and launch myself onto his back. Clenching onto him like a scared cat. He laughs as his rough hands hold me in place by my thighs.

“No fair you know he won't let me get you.” Bain whines like a grown man child, because he knows how much stronger Thorald is to him.

“The meat is cooking, and (y/n) has cleaned up the place. Now you all go wash up, so you can eat.” My father stops my brother whining as he leans on the pillar.

They all walk off, leaving me on Thorald's back. He looks over his shoulder.

“I'm glad to see that smile of yours. I hated leaving you.” He slowly couches down, letting me slide down his back.

“I can't lie to you. I did go quiet for most of the time you were gone, but when I realized I needed to get things in order I got better.” I smile up at him as we walk inside. “Oh I fixed your blanket.”

He gives me a kiss on my forehead before going to his room. I knew he was saying thank you, but couldn't speak from the others that already came into the living room. The rest of the night went by great with stories, food, and laughter.

The following morning I woke to silence, which is odd for a farm full of sailing men. I go down to the kitchen to only my father sitting at the table eating meat from last night.

“Morning father. Where is everyone?” I ask, grabbing the rib from his plate.

“They are cleaning out the ship.” He swats my hand as he talks. “Apparently they have some trunks that are full of stuff. I don't know. I honestly wasn't listening, I had just opened my eyes.” We chuckle.

As my day went on I would see a couple men here and there, which is odd. They usually lay around when they dock. I don't even see Thorald. He usually is next to me every second until they leave in spring.

“Hey uh Odo, right?” I stop a Satyr that works on the ship.

“Oh yes ma'am” He says very timidly.

“Do you know where Thorald may be?” I ask, watching him fidget with his hands.

“Well I uh saw him on the ship earlier, but we were cleaning it out. He could be in the house.” He tells me, but I know it's not true.

“Alright.” I've had enough of them being secretive.

I march through the farm to my horse, and ride to our docks. I tie my horse to the dock post watching the men stop, and look at me before moving quickly around. What in the world are they doing?

“(Y/n) what are you doing here?” Bain stops me as I step onto the deck.

“I was just checking on everyone. I haven't seen anyone all day.” I look around at them moving crates off the ship onto wagons we use on the farm.

“Oh we have been finishing the ship for winter.” He walks me back down. “We are almost done, so we'll see you at dinner.”

“Now you wait a minute.” I stop his subtle shoving. “You tell me right now, what's going on?” I put my foot down.

“I…I wish I could tell you (y/n). I really do.” He looks down.

“Hhh where's Thorald?” I sigh in complete confusion.

“He's in town.” Bain looks down in shame.

“In town, but I made sure we had everything at home…” I try to look up at him, but he looks down. “Oh. He's there.” I don't say anything else as I mount my horse.

“(y/n) wait.” Bain grabs the reins. “He's not there for that. It's not my place to tell you, but please just wait.” Bain looks at me with hard begging eyes.

I give a subtle nod before I begin riding home. My mind went to what else could he be doing at a woman's hotel. Once I'm home I go inside to work on my baking. I'm halfway through the fourth large orc pie, which is like three human size pies in one, when my father walks into the kitchen.

“Just like your mother. Alright sit down.” He pulls me away from the new pie crust I was starting. “What happened?” He gives me a rag for my hands.

“I found out where Thorald has been today, and I hate it.” I throw the rag onto the table. “He's in town.” He sits for a moment then his eyebrows raise up. “Yea, so I'm baking enough stuff for an army, because I can't think about what he is doing.” I huff.

“(Y/n)!” We hear from outside. “Where's (y/n) guys!” They must have pointed to the house, because someone practically rips the door down as they run into the kitchen.

Thorald is standing in my kitchen with no breath, a torn shirt, and marked face. My father beats me to stand.

“I think it's best you go outside, Son.” He tells Thorald.

“I can't go until you understand why I was in town. I can't let you think…” My father starts pulling him to the backdoor. “No.. Rune, come on.” He is mostly muffled by the door, and then I hear my father's muffled voice.

I almost fall out of my chair when a deep roar comes through the air. I silently get back to baking, and when my father comes inside, he just sighs at my back before going to the living room. The rest of the day, I hear banging coming from the woods behind the barn, and I know immediately that it's Thorald. I grab my basket, fill it with a little of everything I made, and head toward the banging. I come to the clearing and see Thorald hammering a board to the side of the building. I set the basket down on the stack of wood he has next to him. He reaches for another piece of wood when he hits the basket handle, making him look down and then up to me.

“(Y/n).” He drops his hammer as he turns to me.

“You've been out here all afternoon, so I brought you food.” I don't know what to do, so I just look at the basket.

“I won't touch your food until you listen to my truth.” He sits on a log as he wipes himself with his shirt.

I move the basket to his hands as I sit next to him with a sigh. He hands me a pastry with jam, and then grabs the sandwich I made.

“I'd never touch a woman other than my own woman. I was at the hotel, because I found out my mother's sister is working there. I went to talk to her, but she would rather work there.” He shrugs. “I understand why you thought I was doing that, I would think the same, but I would never do that to you.” He pulls me to his side. “I was hoping…well I was hoping I could have your permission to be involved in the courting ceremony.” He stumbles over his words, and he doesn't realize he's squeezing me.

“You'd want to court me?” I look up at him in shock. Me? “Thorald you do know there are women fighting in the Town Square to even start the courting process with you.” I tell him in general amazement.

“Yea. I saw some of that today, actually none are my type. I like my women (y/short/tall he's 6.5), and (y/plus “soft”, athletic “lean”).” He smirks down at me.

I turn with a burning face, and look around the building he was working on when I came up.

“Don't answer yet. I want to do this right.” He gets up, and begins hammering again with more speed. I giggle as I watch him build away.

Throughout the fall months I would wake to gifts on my nightstand. My favorite is a cape he made with a fur cape. As it started to snow it kept me so warm. I would also give my own gifts for this courtship by having his lunch and dinner when he'd walk into the kitchen. I also am making him, well us, a quilt for when the courtship is over, and we get married.

I wake up earlier today, and as I'm getting ready I hear the floorboards creak. I hold back my giggle as my doorknob starts to turn. I quickly step behind the door once it begins to open, and Thorald quietly steps into the room. His back is to me when I tickle his side making him jump around with a deep growl.

“What are you doing awake?” He chuckles as he moves closer to me practically caging me to the wall.

“I don't know I woke up bright today.” I lean against his body for his warmth. “Besides I wanted to catch who was leaving me things.” I look up at him with my hands resting on his chest.

“Things like this?” He holds up fur gloves that matched the cape.

“Oh it matches!” I exclaim as I take them to try on. “They are so soft. Thank you.” I hug him with my face cuddling in his chest.

“I want to take you somewhere.” He plays with the ends of my hair while he hugs me.

He helps me put my new cape on, and leads me to the building he was working on when he asked me to start the courtship. It's now completed to be a great looking cabin. A lovely porch with a swing. I always wanted one.

“This is your home.” Thorald tells me as he leads me up the steps to the front door.

“Mine?” I ask, looking up at him confused.

“Yes I built this for you, and hopefully me if you accept my courtship.” He walks me around the cabin showing me the living room with a big fireplace, a big kitchen, and a couple rooms.

He made the wood on the wall look so smooth, and classic looking. I couldn't see myself anywhere else.

“I love it.” My cheeks hurt from smiling so big. I walk into the farthest bedroom. “Oh wow.”

I jump onto the big bed, and bury myself in the soft blanket and pillows. I roll around with groans and sighs. I'm so wrapped up in the soft bed I jump out of my skin when a hand rubs up my leg. I look up to a smiling Thorald.

“Thorald you know I accept this courtship. I wouldn't have said yes before if…” I'm silenced by Thorald kissing me so hard that his tusks poke my cheeks, and I feel mine press into his cheeks.

The warmth of his body wakes mine up as he leans over me. My legs completely open for him to rest in between them, and to rest on his hips. I moan against his lips as I squeeze my knees to his sides as he slides a hand into my hair, and his other arm wrap along my lower back making me arch toward him. He started to quickly kiss down my cheek to my neck, he tightens his hold on me.

“Thorald.” I moan out as I grab his arms.

His growl sounds frustrated as he leans back on his hand, and looks me over. In a blink of an eye he is ripping my clothes off of me, causing me to let myself lose. I push him up, so we both are on our knees, and begin to pull his clothes off. His hands hold me hard against him once his clothes are with mine on the floor of our room. I moan as I reach up to kiss him. With his hands roaming my body I grip his shoulders as I melt against his warm body.

“Lay down for me, baby.” He softly says in my ear.

He stays on his knees as I lay back onto the pillows. He runs his hands up my thighs as he leans down with kisses going back and forth from one thigh to the other. The grip he has on my thighs will leave a mark, but I'll love the memories. He stops for a moment giving me a quick glance before running his tongue along my opening. I gasp with a quick hand to the top of his head, but his tongue goes faster side to side, and around my clit before he begins to suck. I jump up scratching his shoulder while leaning on my elbow so I can watch his tongue move. His tongue then disappears into me leaving my head to fall back with a gasping moan. My legs are locking against his head as I begin to shake.

“Thorald please yes.” I fall back onto the bed with a deep gasp as he gives one finally suck.

I watch him as I catch my breath as he lifts my legs to hold in one hand as he holds himself in the other moving the head along my opening. My eyes clothes as he begins to push in making us both gasp. Him pushing completely through makes me lock my eyes with him while holding onto the back of his neck. He leans on one elbow as he holds me close with the other as he begins to move.

“I can't believe you accepted.” He kisses me hard.

“Thorald I…” I can't talk, I'm too overwhelmed.

“Just relax against me, baby. I got you.” He bites my earlobe as I hold onto him.

With me holding onto him he sits up with me on his lap. His hands move from my neck and back down to my hips as they move on their own. I lean my head against his as I roll my hips with a tight hold on his shoulders.

“That's it.” He groans into my shoulder. “(y/n)!” I begin to shake against him.

“Thorald please…” I moan out. “help.” I moan in frustration.

He tightly grips my hips, and helps me grind against him. I arch up with a loud scream like moan when I finally let go. Thorald takes my breast into his mouth as he lays me down. He pounds into me with a groan, tight squeeze of his arms, and his hot seed fills me.

“Oh my Gods.” I gasp for breath.

He rolls over with me on his chest.

“I can't let you go.” He softly says into my hair.

“You don't have to.” I smile into his chest.

I gasp as I feel him to get hard again as his hands move along my back. I move my hips as I lean up with my hands on his chest. His hands keep moving along my body as I move my hips to grind slowly against him. He pulls me back down to kiss me bringing his knees up, and begins to slowly push up. I hold the back of his neck as I hide my face into his neck with a moan. He moves faster with each moan that leaves me, and in seconds I'm practically screaming with him holding me down with deep rams. I tighten up against him with a tight grip on the back of his neck, and I finally relax against his body with a loud relaxed moan. He follows seconds later with a deep growl, and him gripping my chin with a deep kiss. He slowly pulls out of me, and softly rolls us to our side, holding me to his chest.

When I woke up that morning I had breakfast on the nightstand, and a naked orc trying to sneak back into the bed. I giggle at him as I pull him into a kiss. We pull back for him to pull the tray over my lap as he sits behind me, letting me lean against him. I lift pieces of fruit and bacon up to him, and we enjoy breakfast.

We got married that spring, and stayed in our home for a month before they had to start sailing again. After two years Thorald stopped sailing to stay with me on the farm. Which was smart because I ended up pregnant with twins, our boys Arik and Dagen. I had our daughter, Astra, when the boys were five.

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satashiiwrites · 4 months

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snippet sunday

i’m not going to make posting this by midnight so it’ll be yeeted probably sometime the first week of 2024. Got held hostage by the family for family time and didn’t have time to write the 4K to finish out this chapter….

Tagged by @rosieposiepuddingnpie for a snippet sunday, so have some unfiltered, unbeta’d, Grammarly untouched sentences. Tagging with no pressure: @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @elisela @whimsyswastry @missanniewhimsy @westernlarch @quietborderline @monsterrae1 and anyone else who wants to participate!

Snippet Sunday banner by radio chatter.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 12: Operation Rescue, Buck POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic Hondo/Deacon (although I’ve decided they are going to get their own sequel piece and Annie is going to baby trap Hondo from the grave)

Tags/warnings: NavySeal!Buck, angst. Post tsunami/divorce era. First draft territory warnings.

Outwardly, Buck is calm under the plain black ball cap he’s wearing to hide his blonde hair, a pair of tactical glasses hiding his anxious eyes. He’s strapped for the apocalypse as is Steve, Danny and Chin. The heavy, immovable weight of the bullet proof vest is tight around his torso even though the straps have some elasticity to allow him to breathe, the mic at his throat a persistent reminder every time he swallows spit and the hiss of a comm in his ear as Chin checks that they’re online.

Both of his thighs are wrapped with holsters, a 9mm on the right, a string of extra ammunition clips on the left. Buck’s got fistful of flash bangs, a half dozen grenades and ammo clips in every pocket and then some, ready to start a war if needed, or rescue one stubborn Texan who managed to get nabbed in broad daylight in the middle of LA instead of halfway around the world.

Buck’s HK416 hangs across his chest from it’s strap, an old and comforting friend in situations like these and a k-Bar snug in its sheath at his back, ready to silence any sentry he comes across. They’ve already discussed ROE but Buck doesn’t care. He’s got one goal and he has pretty brown eyes, a beauty mark on one cheek and a tattoo on his arm that reminds him to keep going.

Fortalecer la mente y superar el cuerpo.

Rubbing his face, he takes the proffered water bottle when Danny hands him one. Based on the limited intel, they’ve narrowed down where Wo Fat might be holding Eddie and Kono. It can’t be in any of the more populated areas as something would have been noticed so they know they’ll be going away from the shoreline. The North Shore actually encompasses most of northern Oahu. There’s a lot of dense forest and even farms up here with only one resort, Turtle Bay.

Somehow, Buck doubts Eddie’s being kept captive on a golf course but there’s a first time for everything.

Eddie doesn’t even like golf. He’s complained on more than one occasion that it’s like watching paint dry to watch and the only point of playing is going to the clubhouse for overpriced beers afterwards. Buck knows most of this is from the one summer that Eddie’s mom made him get a job at the local country club as a caddy instead of playing baseball like he had the summer before. The lack of baseball playing had turned Eddie against golf and lugging around heavy bags had increased the aversion along with the paltry tips and wandering hands of the cougars who’d seen Eddie’s fresh-faced teenage self as fresh meat.

Buck knows all about country clubs. He’s worked at them too and doesn’t blame Eddie for his aversion. Too much old money hiding bad habits and terrible treatment of anyone not born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Buck’s parents belonged to the local one in Hershey which was telling in and of itself.

They’re all idle, waiting on a phone call. Raissa—Sang Min’s ex-wife—had given Danny an unlabeled map for them to plan with but she hadn’t given them coordinates or an address. That would come from Sang Min.

So they wait.

All dressed up, and ready to party as Freddie would have said. Just waiting on their dance partner.

“We look like walking Guns & Ammo advertisements,” Danny says, breaking the silence.

“Nah,” Steve replies, tone bland as he adjusts his thigh holsters so they’re not riding up into his groin. “We don’t have nearly enough grenades.”

“We don’t need any grenades,” Danny argues. “I’ve got half of your favorite army surplus store hanging off me.”

“It’s a good look on you,” Buck teases as Steve automatically argues, “We’re Navy, Danno.”

“Don’t Danno me,” Danny grumbles as they all freeze at the sound of Danny’s phone buzzing in his pocket from a received message.

#buddie #911 #Mcdanno #first draft #snippet sunday #family familia ‘ohana #Navy seal Evan “Buck” buckley #Eddie diaz

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get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

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gin and tonic and bad, bad men

Collab Masterlist

✧ pairing: bartender!dabi x waitstaff!fem!reader

✧ word count: 6k

✧ warnings: misogyny, scummy dabi, noncon/dubcon, yandere vibes, cat calling, toxic relationships, toxic work environment, face fucking (?), smut, semi-public sex (in an alley), alcohol, drunk reader, drunk sex, smoking mention, brief spitting, humiliation, light degradation, probably incorrect use of restaurant terminology, reader is implied female but no body parts are explicitly gendered

✧ summary: Dabi is willing to protect you from those awful, nasty men who torment you at work, but he never does anything on the house -- or the newbie at the bar catches dabi's attention and everyone else's.

✧ a/n: Heyy my first dabi, and he's scummy as hell in this. who's shocked? Not me. This is for the BNHAREM collab and it's a coworker/workplace au! Please go check out all the other works, everyone is so talented! Enjoy~

Dead men tell no tales, but drunk men’s mouths run wild.

Liquor loosens the lips like no other force of nature.

Dabi knows this to be true.

Whiskey runs hot in the blood and makes hands reach to lay claim on whatever is closest, whatever is prettiest within their grasp.

Alcohol on the tongue draws forth cravings from deep, hidden pits in men—bears their ugly truths to the world—and Dabi is the master of this liquid sorcery.

He sits, high and mighty, behind the safety of his bartop and watches the sea of bodies grow loose with vodka and gin and in turn he drinks their secrets. Sees the things they hide in sobriety and knows their nature with a removed certainty that is only found in those who have seen the darkest depths of mankind and come out the other side stinking of their filth.

The mahogany slab that separates Dabi from the waves of slobbering drunkards does nothing to stop the infection from spreading. He knows their thoughts, knows their truth, knows what their hands long to bruise, because they’re his thoughts too.

His truth.

His longing.

Kept only at bay by the simple fact that the boss doesn’t like him drinking on shift. Likes to keep his air of professionalism even if the bar is nothing more than a seedy dive in the bad part of the bad part of town.

Whatever keeps him off Dabi’s back is fine.

“The bar is over there and that door is to the kitchen…”

Toga’s voice pulls him from his stupor. The dirty rag he’d been using to halfheartedly wipe down the counters leaves his skin slick, calluses soft and plump as the water eats at them. She’s showing around one of the new hires. The turn over rate for staff here is so goddamn awful that this is a near weekly occurrence, so Dabi doesn’t pay her much mind as she wanders over.

It isn’t until her face is shoved up against his across the bar that he looks away from his task.

“Say hi to the newbie!” she cackles, smile just deranged enough to keep her safe from the crowds on packed nights.

Toga doesn’t look it but she belongs here too, in the filth and squalor of humans. But not like him. She thrives and gorges herself on their foolishness, twirling through the mob of patrons, always knowing who’s back to pat for gracious tips and who’s to stab when she needs to.

He glances up through his lashes and is both shocked and unsurprised by what he finds.

Hanging off the end of Toga’s arm, you stand out against the dingy background of the taproom. The smog of the bar clings to it’s staff, making their hair dull and their eyes red rimmed. You haven’t been poisoned yet though. The smell of the downpour raging outside still clings to you and errant raindrops drip down your chin like tears.

“Hey,” he grumbles and with another prodding look from Toga tacks on a gruff, “name’s Dabi.”

“He’s our bartender,” Toga provides after his silence and you smile. He guesses cause you don’t know any better.

You’ll learn not to do that down here soon enough.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Your name slips off your lips and onto his like top shelf tequila. There’s rain on your palm as you reach out for him, so when he takes it to shake, you can’t feel the way the grime clings to his skin—can’t feel the roughness etched into his fingers through the chill.

Can’t see him for what he is.

Meanwhile, you’re practically transparent in the dim, neon light of the bar.

The buttons of your shirt are undone too low, he notices as Toga drags you away to the back. He could warn you, should warn you. That when the late night crowd stumbles in, you’ll want those extra inches of skin covered up. That dressing like that is just asking for something to get smacked.

You must be stupid to not know it, because he doesn’t think you do.

You’re not really carrying yourself like a slut, he thinks, watching you trail along behind his boisterous coworker smiling and nodding and eager to please.

He ought to warn you.

But he knows he won’t.

You’ll be gone within a week and Dabi will swiftly forget your name and face just like the others before you. He’ll sneak shots in while his manager’s back is turned and any memory of you will be filtered out by his abused liver.

But for now, Dabi reigns himself back in to polish some of the obvious stains from his glasses and prepares himself for the show. The doors open in an hour, and he wants to be ready for the action.

The drunk antics of all the city's criminals gets old fast when you’re the one who has to clean up their shit.

Fresh meat is the only real entertainment they ever get around here.

So Dabi watches as you don one of the stained, black aprons and doesn’t tell you to cover up that sliver of your chest practically glowing in the electric red and blue light. Just looks on from the relative sanctuary of the bar as Toga instructs you on how to carry the drink trays and waits patiently to see you be devoured.

After you trip on the way back to the kitchen, Dabi pulls a twenty out of his pocket and shoves it in a jar hidden under the bartop. He makes a mental note to tell the chef he’s betting on just under a week you’ll last.

At the very least he’ll get a free performance and a neat hundred out of your inevitable failure.

He goes back to polishing, only looking up once as you breeze past the bar on your way to unlock the gates for the nocturnal animals of the city to filter in as they please.

You smile at him again as you pass.

Dabi tosses another twenty into the jar.

***

Well, he may have lost the bet, but he can’t find it in himself to mourn the forty dollars too hard.

Today would be your two week anniversary, and honestly, Dabi felt a bit of grudging respect for the determination you showed, no matter how pointless it was.

Determination and foolishness often came hand in hand.

He couldn’t help but think you looked more than a little the fool as you smiled and made unbridled eye contact with the patrons while walking your rounds from table to table. You’d learned enough to cover up a bit more, but he can’t be sure if that’s because you’ve started to notice the stares or because a spring cold front has rolled over the city. Either way, he watches you shiver under the gaze of a particularly rowdy guest and feels a chill run up his own spine as he watches the man’s eyes trail up your thighs, drinking down the slivers of bare skin like his fifth beer of the night.

Dabi is intrigued now.

Wonders how you’ve made it out of the fray every night so far.

Wonders what you’re hiding under those skimpy clothes and friendly, thoughtless smiles.

He doesn’t have to wait long to find out.

It’s inevitable really. When you’re working nights there are certain occupational hazards to expect. So when the little clock above the bar reads just past one in the morning, and you drift out once again into the raging mass of bodies, Dabi isn’t shocked to hear the yelp and smash of glasses just a few minutes later.

The first die has been cast.

He looks up from pouring out two fingers of whiskey just in time to catch the man’s hand slipping between your thighs, dirty fingers digging into the flesh and yanking you down onto his spread legs. The tray of drinks you’d been carrying clatters to the floor, lacing the air with the sweet burn of alcohol and futile outrage.

It’s far too loud to hear what the man says to you, but the way his blackened, ragged nails press five perfect, filthy crescents onto your skin—how they mark you as a worthy target, claiming you with their muck—sends a clear enough message.

Dabi wouldn’t bother watching if it wasn’t you trying to squirm your way out of being passed from lap to lap around the booth. He’s isn’t the least bit ashamed to admit how curious he is to see which way you’ll react.

And while he expects passivity—a drawn look with wide eyes, hoping no reaction at all will leave them bored and searching for a more interesting conquest—Dabi finds himself on the wrong side of the tracks once more.

His eyebrows shoot up, quite the reaction from the generally stony bartender, as your hand cracks open palmed across the face of your captor. A strange, heavy silence falls over the bar. It lasts only a few precious seconds but it’s enough to draw the attention of your manager who pulls you, cursing and snarling like a dog without it’s muzzle, back to the kitchen.

It’s your face that does him in—seals both your fates in dripping cream and purple wax.

Working down here, in this pigsty bar with it’s air that clings and dirties and tarnishes, brightness of any kind is foreign.

Alluring.

And your eyes that shine with the glow of reckless willpower have the same draw as the fat wads of cash that slip too easily from drunk fingers into his tip jar. Defiance is a rare currency in the underworld and Dabi’s fingers itch as your secret is revealed.

You believe you’re worth something.

Even as he hears the rasp of his boss’ voice, berating and threatening from behind the swinging doors, Dabi can’t help but hold the image of your smile turned snarl. You’ll get off with a warning because you’ve lasted this long and it’s a hassle to find replacements with pretty enough faces. But only this once, do it again and you’ll be out on the street.

For his part he tries to look sympathetic when you crowd yourself behind the bar and pout with your tail between your legs.

You haven’t spoken to him since that first night and he hasn’t exactly made an attempt at conversation either.

It wasn’t like you were worth the effort before.

But now, as you sniffle and pretend the pin prick tears in your eyes are just from the bite of the liquor slicked floor, Dabi feels an old heat rise in him. Something stokes the embers that laid dying out inside the prison of his ribs, and he welcomes the familiar burn.

Like an old friend, like a knife at his throat.

The man from before approaches the bar to order another drink and his cloudy eyes don’t even seem to register the way you cower from him, back turned and sinking into the peeling wallpaper. They’ve forgotten you already. To them you are one of dozens, not worth the fight it takes when plenty of properly meek flesh hops from table to table, ripe for picking.

But Dabi see’s the flint in your hands and knows it’s you that lit this fire licking up the back of his throat.

With two rough fingers he beckons you over into the soft overhead spotlights of the bar. Like a beast to its master’s call you shuffle forward into his gravitational pull and look up at him warily.

“Wanna learn how to mix?” he asks, even to him his voice sounds harsh with disuse.

“...sure,” you say quietly, after a brief pause.

You’re warm and soft as he settles behind you, caging you in with his arms under the guise of reaching for a strainer or a jar of olives. Unlike that bastard, now long passed out from drink, Dabi’s face remains free of your claw marks when his chest brushes against you or his hand wanders to the small of your back to move you aside as he serves customers.

He even works up a little smile of his own when you stare, sunny bright over your shoulder at his attempt to distract you from the incident.

The city, the bar, the underground—all of it is an angry, storming ocean filled with angry, storming bodies that swiftly drowns its victims as they desperately tread water in the open, black abyss.

Without him, you’d learn to take the wandering hands and vulgar words or you’d be foolish enough to inhale them in lungfuls and sink to the bottom.

But as you smile and nod while he shows you how long to stir an Old Fashioned, Dabi feels his own neglected determination rise to the challenge.

By the end of the night, you already trail behind him as he does his rounds to each abandoned table. Like a stranded victim to a raft, you cling to the safety he’s dared to provide.

And if he plays his cards right.

He might not come out of this bet so empty handed.

If only you knew, he was no better than the rest of them.

You’d run straight from the trees into the wolf's den.

***

“What’s your favorite drink to make?” you ask.

Dabi glances up at you, his chest pressed against the cool surface of the bar as he surveys the empty taproom. It’s a little over an hour till opening, but the only thing waiting for him outside of this hellhole is an even deeper hellhole, so Dabi almost always finds himself lounging around the abandoned bar. The boss doesn’t care anyway as long as inventory gets taken and any dried blood from the night before is gone by the next day.

You’ve taken to drifting in early too, even sometimes on the nights you don’t work.

Normally, he’d be annoyed, but it’s better you’re here than out on the streets.

At least if you’re bugging him behind the bar, he can keep an eye on you. Dabi’s found recently that you’ve been on his mind with increasing frequency. It’s easier if you’re in his line of sight. There’s a certain reassurance in your dopey little smile and your hand fisted in the back of his shirt—your body knows where you belong even if your pretty little brain hasn’t quite caught up yet.

Pretty.

“My favorite or my best?” he grunts, pushing off the bar and wetting his lips.

“Is there a difference?”

You’re looking at him with what he assumes is meant to be a cocky grin, but he has a hard time taking you seriously with your crossed arms squishing your chest up like that.

“‘Course there is,” he turns to grab one of the highball glasses from it’s rack and sets it down on the counter. “Just because you like something, doesn’t mean you’re good to it.”

When he looks back at you over his shoulder, you’ve got this comical little furrow in your brow.

“To it?”

Dabi presses the tip of his finger into your forehead, “At it, whatever. Don’t frown so much, you’ll look old as fuck soon if you do.”

“You don’t know how old I am,” you scoff and slap his hand away.

“Bet I’m older,” he mumbles, searching the shelves of bottles idly while dropping a few cubes of ice into the glass.

It melts in his palm, slipping through the spaces between his fingers.

Dabi clenches his fist tighter.

“I don’t know about that,” you’re trotting around to the other side of the bar now, slipping into one of the worn, red topped stools and watching him start to mix.

He likes having you for an audience. Any other customer is only concerned with getting his drink as fast a possible, to numb whatever wounds need to be numbed on their insides. But you appreciate the art form of crafting this liquid destruction.

“I’m older where it counts,” he replies simply, pulling a bottle of gin down from near the top shelf and plopping it on the counter.

“Oh really? How’s that?”

Dabi measures out two ounces of sharp, clear liquor and pours it smoothly over the ice. He doesn’t bother looking at you as he works. He knows your eyes won’t leave him.

“Experience,” he offers and doesn’t elaborate.

The tonic water cracks open with a satisfying hiss and bubbles as he tips it into the glass. You trail your fingers through the condensation on the bar absentmindedly.

“I’m not as clueless as you think I am, you know that?”

He does glance at you then, senses the lack of your attention that’s focused on the fading finish of the bar top.

Dabi waits in silence.

You do elaborate.

“There’s some real fucking choice clientele here, but nothing that’s gone down on shifts is like, a new development.”

“No?” he asks because you expect him to respond and because he enjoys the way you perk up when he actually engages in a conversation with you.

He likes that you like it.

His attention.

It’s not often he finds anyone worth the effort.

“No.”

You stare at him expectantly now, eyes flicking between him and the glass as he stirs the drink a few times and grabs a lime wedge.

Dabi rolls his eyes at the clear fishing line you’re casting for more questions, but takes the bait anyway.

He hopes you know how lucky you are.

“What, got groped on the train a few times and now you think you're a seasoned member of the criminal underground?” he squeezes the fruit between two fingers lightly to spread its juice around the rim and lets it float atop the ice. “I fucking knew you were a dramatic little bitch.”

“I am not dramatic,” you pout just like you do every time the boss chews you out.

He gets the distinct feeling you’re just as much of a petulant little brat elsewhere as you are at work. Then again, that is what makes you so interesting. If you didn’t try to gnash those little baby teeth at him every now and again, he wouldn’t have bothered jumping to your rescue so often.

Dabi doesn’t partake in...partners often. People disappoint him, which isn’t shocking considering the amount of shit he’s seen them spew in his years behind the bar. People are dirty and never in the sexy way all those pop songs talk about, and that makes them boring. The allure of inviting someone else into his shoebox little life is shaping them to fit it. You can’t sculpt mud that loses its shape, slips through your fingers and back to the filthy earth where it belongs.

But you haven’t been stained yet.

You sit at his bar looking like a perfect slab of clay, ready for his hands to dip past those sweet, sweet lips and form them to fit only his fingers.

A rare find in a place like this, just like the single malt on his top shelf—unexpected, leaving behind a pleasant burn on his tongue.

He thinks back to that man on the first night he showed you some of the drinks and all the others that came after him. Here, in the bar, you can come scurrying over and hide behind the wall of his chest. You can put Dabi and the counter between you and the mass of hands and whistles.

He hadn’t really bothered to think of what might happen to you when he’s not around.

Who might touch his precious treasure he’s managed to dig out of muck.

Who might try and ruin you before he gets the chance.

His brain is working to rationalize the growing feeling of possession he feels towards the half frown half permanent smile that you fix him with. But he knows.

He knows exactly what he’d like to do to you and how he’d like to do it.

Knows it’s exactly what all those creeps on the train or drunks that stumble in one hour to call would like too.

It’s fine though. People like him wouldn’t be so attracted to people like you if you weren’t asking for it.

And you were asking.

Every time you stood by him, attached at the hip and let him chase off the assholes who tried to get in your pants or practically begged him with your eyes for some scrap of attention—you were asking for him to take control.

Even if you were too stupid to see it for yourself.

Your body knows what you want, even if you deny it with every fiber left of you.

He doesn’t offer another response, just slides the concoction across and into your outstretched hands.

Gin and tonic is simple, bare bones and hard to fuck up. He likes that. Everything else is so goddamn complicated, this type of magic doesn’t need to be.

You seem to forget the weight of the previous conversation and peer curiously down into the glass. Dabi is shameless as he watches your lips wrap around the curved edge and your throat constrict as you swallow.

He likes that more than the floral gin that hits his tongue when you pass the drink back and he sips.

“So which is it, your favorite or your best?”

There’s a pause as he considers the questions before passing the glass back to you.

“My favorite.”

He isn’t looking at the drink when he answers.

“Oh,” you respond quietly, sipping lightly on the drink he’s made and looking at him like he isn’t seconds away from taking you then and there.

“Stay awhile after your shift,” he says, not much thought behind the words. “I’ll drive you home.”

***

You look almost angelic, a beacon amongst the refuse and grime of the back alley, silhouetted by the dying orange glow of a lone street lamp. The door to the kitchen is still rattling in its frame as Dabi pulls you stumbling behind him.

He isn’t angry.

But there’s something burning in him.

In reality, he’d felt the potential of the night the instant he walked through the front doors, slipping behind the bar to clock in only to find you leaned up against the drink racks, ready and waiting.

The same sensation since the first time you’d smiled that dopey smile his way was raging to a crescendo under his skin. He’d been doing you a service all these weeks, keeping you from the prying eyes and fingers of the patrons—keeping them from soiling what was his to ruin.

Tonight he would take what he was owed.

Indulge a bit in what he’d won, the gold nugget he’d plucked from the dirty, city sewer riverbed.

After all, he needed to make sure you were a worthwhile investment.

If the boss thought the restaurant business was risky….well, Dabi knew better.

You struggled a bit as his fingernails dug into the skin on your bicep, but he just tugged harder, clicking his tongue at the jumble of slurred protests you groaned into the sweet summer air. There was a space between the two massive dumpsters out behind the kitchen Dabi used to go to smoke. It was a nice, private little spot. Didn’t smell too great but nothing here did, and that wouldn’t matter when he had you to distract him anyway.

In seconds he had your back to the wall, hidden on either side by steel containers. The brick caught on your uniform and Dabi watched the fabric tighten around your chest and throat. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, but your hands were weak as they shoved at him, easy to gather in one palm and pin down.

He wasn’t exactly sure what put this idea in his head—the urgency in his blood—but it definitely had something to do with that last customer.

It was halfway through your night shift, closing in on one in the morning. Dabi was stuck behind the bar, churning out cheap beers and lines of shots. You’d been forced to brave the sea of regulars, too busy to hide yourself away in the kitchen with Toga or watch with owl-wide eyes as Dabi doled out liquor.

The bar was unusually packed. Not that it was strange for a bar to be full on a Friday night, but he’d never seen the place without an empty seat in sight.

Maybe it was because you were so easily swallowed up by the roiling mass of bodies, or maybe it was because Dabi lost himself in the magic of the drinks—of the mixing and matching and perfecting—that he didn’t notice the man.

That the way this particular customer stared and touched and spoke to you miraculously didn’t end in a smart slap to the face and a screaming session from the manager.

No. It seemed that somewhere along the way he’d let that light in you, the matchstick spark, dwindle just a bit too much, let you sink just a bit too far into the mud of the place. Cause when this man pulled you into his lap and plied you with shot after shot, cheering all the time, calling you his ‘pretty little thing,’ you didn’t put up any fight.

No.

No you smiled that dumb, bright eyed smile at him.

Flashed this nobody asshole Dabi’s sweet little smile and drank the shots he’d poured like Dabi hadn’t wasted the nearly a month driving you home and keeping you safe from the human garbage that wandered in off the street. Like all that work had been for nothing, up in ashes the instant that man’s hand found purchase on your bare thigh and you didn’t so much as squirm in his grip.

You squirm now though.

Fight despite the alcohol blurring your vision and turning your bones to jelly. Normally the boss hates it when his employees drink on shift, but if you want to take it like the fucking slut you were well, who’s Dabi to stop you?

He kept pouring rounds for that table and watched the man tip sweet, top shelf whiskey down your throat. It didn’t take long till you were losing your balance and sinking deeper into the quicksand debris of the bar.

Gin and tonics used to be medicinal—mixed up with quinine to treat malaria. Dabi likes that. Likes the idea that he’s whipping up healing potions instead of Molotovs. Likes the freshness amidst the burn.

But Dabi wants you to burn now.

Wants your throat on fire with the betrayal.

It’s easy to force your knees. The whiskey made you pliant even as you shake your head and look up at him with bleary eyes.

“You’re looking at me now, huh?” he works his tongue across his teeth as the words leave him, spitting straight on your cheek to watch you recoil in disgust. “Didn’t seem too interested in me earlier.”

“I don’t, I’m sorry...what?” you mumble.

He thinks if you were more coherent you might be crying.

Maybe he should have cut you off sooner.

“Don’t act stupid with me,” he still has your hands held above your head and his free hand moves to grip your scalp. “You’ve been behind my bar so many times, there’s no way you don’t know I see everything.”

“Why didn’t you…” Dabi shakes your head as your eyes droop and you gasp at his nails raking your skin. “You could have helped me!”

“What? Help you get fucked by some drunk shit? I don’t think so.”

“No,” you shake your head yourself this time, face screwed up in confusion and as the grit of the alley bites into your knees. “They wouldn’t let me leave, I was scared, Dabi please—”

He is swiftly losing his patience, hand leaving your head to fumble with the clasp of his belt and pants. The look on your face—tears beginning to bead at the corners of your eyes and mouth opening up as words try but fail to find their way off your tongue—is enough to have his cock twitching with interest.

“Listen sweetheart, cause I’m not gonna fucking say this again,” he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in his chest as his dick falls free from his boxers and your eyes go almost all white as he strokes up the ladder of piercings on his shaft. “You might think you’re cut out for this job, but you aren’t shit. Everything’s got a price down here and you’re gonna have to pay the fuck up for what you owe me.”

You look like you want to protest, even in this state—on your knees in an dirty as fuck alley with a fat cock nudging your lips—but he’s got his thumb worked between your teeth, shoving down on your tongue until your jaw pops open and he can sheath himself inside.

The half choke, half sob, half shameful moan that squeezes out past his dick only has Dabi growing harder. It’s been so long since he’s fucked someone’s throat. So long since he’s fucked anything at all, he’s nearly forgotten how goddamn good it feels to have something other than a fist wrapped around him.

His fingers migrate, moving to grip you by the cheeks, keeping your mouth open and jaw locked so you can’t bite him. Not that he thinks you really would.

Your body knows what you want.

And it seems like you really want a fucking dick in your mouth.

He pulls out, listening to the click of the little metal barbells against your teeth and the gasp of air you take before he plunges back in.

“Look at you,” he muses, daring to release your hands which flop uselessly to your sides as he holds your face still and starts to roll his hips. “Don’t know why I waited so long to collect, fucking shit.”

Your neck bulges with every stroke of his hips, and when the ring at the tip of his dick nudges the back of your throat, you gag so pretty he can hardly stand it.

He wonders idly, as you cry and choke on his cock, if you’re thinking about the man in the bar. Wishing it was his length you were lapping at like a good little hole.

Wishing Dabi had been better.

Not like the others.

And for a moment, it has him stilling—the horrid notion that there might have been something not so twisted between you if only he wasn’t scum like the rest, if he wasn’t just hiding his dirt on the inside.

Tar logged lungs and heart.

But then he remembers that if he just fucks you hard enough, you’ll forget all those nasty things until you’re fit just for him. Molded for Dabi right down to the thoughts in your head.

So instead of stopping this now and hoping you’re drunk enough to forget the filth of the alley and the salt of his cum on your tongue, he picks up his pace.

His thighs burn with the effort, not used to this kind of movement after years alone, and your face is a mess of tear tracks and spit that dribbles out in streams around the length of him slamming into your throat.

It’s quick and dirty and hard and everything Dabi has ever been and will always be. Delicious and hot and fresh. His blood is pounding in his ears, drowning out the cries and sobs and whimpers coming from you between his knees. Instead his head is alight with the thought that soon he’ll mark that mouth as his, claim you before the others could. And if the road to hell is paved with good intentions then Dabi doesn’t know where he’s going when he dies, but he’s deep in heaven now.

With a bang and a whimper Dabi will pretend didn’t slip past his lips, he slams past your teeth once more before exploding in your mouth. Thick, white ropes of release coat your tongue and he doesn’t pull out, just works his fingers under your jaw until he feels you swallow around his softening cock.

Only then does he take a step back to survey his work.

Half in shadow, surrounded in trash and debris, cum stained with dirt under your nails, Dabi feels pride well in his chest.

Distantly he thinks that this burning sense of completion, of perfection, of accomplishment, is what an artist must feel—hand finally dropping the brush to gaze upon their life’s work.

A masterpiece.

His perfect, human clay creation.

Your mouth still hangs dumbly open, hands resting on the brick dust coated ground, your eyes are wide and still stare up at him—reminiscent of a peasant gazing onto a king, confused at the power before you. And with the dim burning of the streetlight, illuminating his hair and glinting off the silver piercings adorning his ears, Dabi thinks he must look just that—a king with his crown of bloody jewels.

He watches as you sway and fall forward on your hands and coughing onto the ground. Your chest heaves, your legs shake, and Dabi feels his shoulders soften. He tucks himself away slowly, refastening his belt as your sputtering subsides. With careful steps, he moves to stand in front of you once again, running his hand along the back of your head until your breaths come deeply and his mouth tastes sickly sweet at the way your hands move to grip at his boots.

“Hey,” he mumbles, feeling some strange heat in his face that brings him to his knees before you. “Look at me.”

And you do in an instant.

Dabi half expects a glare, steely and cold like the walk-in but it’s not.

Your eyes are blank and glossy, staring hooded and helpless like a stray cat desperate to be carried away and fed warm milk.

He wipes a bit of his own release from the corner of your mouth and doesn’t question the sudden, intense need to lick behind your teeth. With filthy hands he cups your face and revels in the feel of your swollen lips and the taste of himself on your tongue.

It screams ownership.

And Dabi has never had much to his name so the thought only makes him want to cling harder.

As he pulls away there’s a smear of red dust on your cheek from his thumbs stroking the skin. Marked. Claimed. Coated in a thin layer of grime just like every other poor soul that walks into this place, but that dirt is his. That filth is him, a permanent imprint on your bones.

He thinks you’d look good with his name in black ink etched into your flesh, dark and blatant so anyone who looks at you would know, would see who owns you even when the muck has been washed away.

“You did good,” he says, giving you a smile of his own—maybe his first, surely not his last.

Your voice is nothing more than a sunken ship wreckage of what it once was, interrupted with sniffles and creaks. “I..want to go home….”

“Let me drive you,” his hands reach under your arms to lift you shakily off the ground, head tucked safely into his shoulder as he helps you limp to his car. “Not safe for you to go walking at this time of night. Men can be fucking monsters you know?”

His heart pounds happily in his chest as you nod against him.

“Thanks,” you whisper into his shirt.

Dabi grins wider than he can ever recall. The kind of expression that makes his cheeks ache and his head spin.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” the words drip off his tongue, top shelf truth if he’s ever heard it. “Anytime.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #bnha fanfiction #tw: alcohol #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw misogyny #tw sexism #tw cat calling #tw drinking #tw toxic behavior #tw yandere #tw spitting #bee.writes

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imtryingmybeskar · 2 years

Text

Chapter Seven of Starman. This is pretty much pure fluff. A tiny hint of sexy thoughts (well who wouldn't have them when faced with Ezra?!)

Ezra x OFC. Word count: 2972.

Starman

Chapter Seven

Earthling

Ezra.

She leant against the counters of the kitchen, hugging herself for the feeling of being grounded in reality more than for warmth and stared out of the patio doors into the garden, her eyes far away and unseeing what was in front of her.

Ezra.

She fumbled her phone out of her pocket and looked it up on a whim.

Ezra.

Meaning "Helpful" in Hebrew. She wondered what it meant in his own tongue.

Ezra.

The name rolled around her head, her mind trying to find a suitability between those syllables and his features. A sudden thought that heated her face - of him touching her, trailing his fingers softly across her skin, the word dragged from her throat and sighed into his ear as she clung to his waist with her thighs and writhed with pleasure under his weight. She shook her head as if she could dislodge the vision that way, and opened the fridge, grateful for the blast of cooled air that hit her.

"Ezra."

The name bubbled quietly off her tongue as she stared into the clinical white depths, once more not truly seeing what she was looking at. A name to go with the perplexing man that she had found in such perplexing circumstances. It did suit him, she decided - though she was unsure as to exactly why. She heard the water shut off in the bathroom and that more than anything stirred her. She unloaded the necessary ingredients.

Given her suspicions of him, she was really unsure what would be suitable for him to eat (or indeed if he even ate as she did), but she began to make the epic mountain of scrambled eggs and bacon that she had been craving, plus some extra toast and mushrooms. If he didn't eat meat, he could have the eggs and mushrooms, at the very least he could have toast. Hopefully. Her mind wandered back to his half naked form as she cracked eggs into a jug and began to whisk. He was so thin. And it wasn't a natural, lithe skinniness either. That kind of thin came from under nourishment. The man needed several decent meals and she found herself planning them as she cooked.

He was staying, then.

Some part of her had decided that already, seemingly without any input from the rational side. He was staying here. In her house. Her bastion of solitude that she had carefully cultivated for so many years. To have a houseguest or a visitor was one thing. To have someone here in an open-ended stay...that was a different thing altogether. Yet how could she do otherwise? She couldn't deny the feelings his touch inspired in her. No one had ever made her feel quite that weak kneed and electrified just by holding her hand and her gaze. And his physical differences - that tattoo on his arm and his stomach...she kept expecting her mind to rebel, to throw up rational explanations for the whole thing, or to at least scream at her to call the Guard again. But there was a calm acceptance of the strangeness she had experienced in the past few hours.

A man from the stars had crash landed, practically on her doorstep. She was going to take care of him. That was all there was to it. The child-like part of her that had read and watched variations of this story over the years was beyond excited. The adult was wondering where the hell he was going to sleep (and if he slept at all). Both parts were somewhat concerned about overcoming the language barrier.

She felt his presence before she saw him, a tickling feeling on the back of her neck and a slight swooping sensation within her stomach informing her that he was in the doorway.

"I hope you're hungry," she said, smiling as she turned around to face him. "And I hope you can eat all this stuff!"

He looked a little better - refreshed and clean at least, but also much more weary and she could finally see how dark the circles around his eyes were. It was as if the water had washed away the adrenaline propelling him onward as well as the grime. Food and rest. That was what he (probably) needed.

She placed the steaming plates on to the table, along with the toast in the rack and gestured for him to sit. As she was about to take her own place, a wave of inspiration struck her and she took the magnetic paper pad that she used for shopping lists from the fridge and nabbed a pen from the drawer of chaotic clutter that lurks in every kitchen.

When she turned back to him he was stuffing mushrooms into his mouth as if he hadn't eaten for a week. Which...maybe he hadn't.

So - he did eat as she did, knew what a fork was for, and seemed to recognise mushrooms too. A good start, though he was eyeing the rest of his plate with mistrust. She sat down and drew a crude representation of a pig next to an attempt at the shape of bacon, and then an egg with an arrow pointing toward a hen. When she showed it to him, he raised one eyebrow in clear bafflement whilst continuing to hoover up the mushrooms. She decided that perhaps leading by example was best in this case and ate a bite of everything to show him it was safe.

She cut a piece of the bacon and put it on to his plate for him, and he speared in on his fork before tentatively putting out his tongue to lick it. His brow furrowed and then raised in quick succession. Evidently, this was a new flavour to him, but he seemed to enjoy it if the way he began to eye up the other rashers as he was chewing was any indication. She put some of the egg on to a piece of toast and he copied her, his eyes closing in pleasure as he bit into the buttery delight, his cheeks stuffed full as a hamster's. There was orange juice and hot breakfast tea to wash it all down and he seemed to like those as well, although judging from his facial expressions the juice seemed to strike him as bitter at first.

He ate more quickly than her and also in greater quantities, though she couldn't blame him given her suspicions about how little he had gotten to eat recently. When he was done he closed his eyes, hummed an appreciative sigh and stroked his hand over his now slightly distended stomach, a feeling of satiation and relief coming off him in waves. She couldn't help but smile at his blissed out expression. "Good, huh?" she said softly.

He opened his eyes and smiled dreamily as he reached out toward her face. This time she didn't flinch, and allowed him to trace a calloused thumb over her cheekbone.

Time stopped.

There was only the two of them existing together in the universe and nothing and nobody could intrude on this moment. She wanted him with a somewhat frightening intensity. Not necessarily in a sexual way (at least not right now), but just to be near to him, to rest her cheek on his shoulder, burrow into his embrace and inhale his scent from the crook of his neck. To take comfort from him and his proximity. To possess him.

She allowed herself to move closer and nestle her cheek into his hand, and the morning light reflected in his eyes added another dimension to the soft adoration that had already been present. She wondered briefly if a similar kind of expression resided in hers.

He was there, right there in front of her, and somehow that was such a comfort to her soul. When she looked at him, she felt right in a way that she hadn't for...well, maybe ever. It wasn't a cessation of loneliness, because she wasn't lonely. It wasn't even that she had found someone that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. It was simply a feeling that now, finally, everything was how it should always have been. That he was supposed to have been near to her all of her days and that it was the correct order of things that she would never be without him again. The sensation of a niggling pain that was insistent and perpetual and that she had grown to be able to ignore was suddenly no longer present. Relief grew to fill the absence.

But so did trepidation.

The Ezra-inspired mess of emotions swirling within her was see-sawing from excitement to fright via anxiety and panic, and her rational thoughts began to try to exert their influence. He was a perfect stranger. And he was strange indeed, regardless of outward perfection. It was overwhelming and bizarre to have those feelings for someone that she had just met, let alone someone who did not appear to be terrestrial.

Her eyes slammed shut as fear of what these feelings could mean, what they could lead to, whether he himself was exerting some sort of influence on her - they rose up like bile and threatened to overwhelm. She got the impression that if she stopped to think too deeply about what she was doing that she would tip and fall into some sort of madness. A different and less kind form than what she was currently experiencing.

But then he stroked his thumb down gently over her lips and chin and held her jaw in the cradle of his hand and she felt the heat of his observance upon her face, silently requesting her eyes on his. She acquiesced, not wanting there to be any other choice, not really caring if there was. He graced her with a small and slightly sad smile and shook his head, almost as if she had verbalised her fears to him and he was offering reassurance.

She raised her eyes to his just as his gaze lowered to her lips. She saw the desire, the flash of hunger and it stole her breath from her. His tongue came out to wet his lower lip and that same yearning became untethered within her chest, the longing to map every part of his mouth with hers almost overpowering in its intensity. She could see his chest rising and falling softly but rapidly with his breathing, and felt she could sense the discipline it was taking for him to control it even to that degree.

"I-" she breathed, an attempt at speech even though she didn't know what to say or how to even begin to address the enormity of it. "I want-" she tried again, wanting to verbalise her feelings as best she could, hoping that somehow he would understand despite everything.

He looked into her eyes and her mind blanked for a moment. He did know. Whatever she was feeling, he was too. And it wasn't wrong, or eerie, or unnatural. It was a connection, a bond of love and somehow it didn't matter that they barely knew each other because they did. Deeply and truly. They just needed to discover it.

She reached for his face too, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the dark scruff that splayed over his cheeks. She couldn't tear her gaze away from his eyes but she knew he was smiling because they crinkled so small that she couldn't see their whites any more, only boundless darkness. His beard was patchy, the hairs coarse yet soft under her palm, and he nuzzled into her touch much as she had to him.

At her feet, Ben gave a soft whine and she snapped out of her dream-like trance, looking down at him and blinking rapidly in the sunlight that somehow seemed brighter than before. She dropped her hand and looked back at Ezra who was still smiling as he followed suit, his dimple soft and subtle in his cheek. She suddenly felt a little flustered, as though she had been too forward with him somehow and to cover her agitation she glanced down at Ben again.

"You want bacon too huh?" she asked, her voice sounding a little far away to her own ears. "Well, since I made so much..." She held out a slice, and Ben took it politely, trotting off to gulp it down somewhere else.

She turned her attention back to Ezra whose eyes were now following Ben with fascination.

"You've never seen a dog before have you?" she asked, not expecting an answer. She didn't get one, but his attention did come back to her. She pointed after Ben. "Dog," she said.

"Dog," Ezra repeated, though whether he understood what he was saying was another matter. She nodded and smiled at him encouragingly.

"Human," she said, pointing at herself.

He smiled broadly back at her. "Human," he said tenderly, taking her hand and stroking over the back of it, and then "Ezra," once more pointing at himself.

"Oh! No. Shit, ummm…" she said. "Human is not my name, its...its my species." He looked at her blankly again, but then his hand enveloped hers and brought her knuckles to graze softly against his lips and she suddenly felt words to be utterly unimportant.

"We can...we can talk about that later," she whispered weakly. "I think you need rest, Ezra."

He smiled against her hand at the sound of her saying his name and it made her want to melt into a puddle right there. Instead she squeezed his hand and then stood, gently tugging him up with her as she did so.

She led him into the living room and bade him wait while she arranged the sofa to provide optimum comfort for sleeping. Two of the biggest and most plush cushions were stacked at one end and her favourite patchwork quilted blanket was draped and turned down accordingly. She held out her hand to him and he came to her gladly, standing a distance she would have deemed entirely too close if it wasn't for the fact that it was him. He was taller than her and she looked up at him, allowing her eyes to drink their fill, even as he clearly did the same with her.

"You need rest," she whispered, as his thumb stroked softly and reassuringly over the back of her hand. "You need sleep. If...if you do sleep." He gently cocked his head at her, not quite understanding. "I'm going to do something now and I hope you won't get the wrong idea," she murmured.

Gently, she crowded him against the sofa, so his knees hit the back of it. He sat down suddenly, his eyes never leaving her face. That predatory smile teased the corners of his mouth again, and a thrilling rush sparked in her abdomen. She let out a shaky exhalation.

"No," she whispered, a touch more sternly than she had meant to. He released her and put his hand up in a placating gesture and nodded. He understood that at least. She hoped he didn't think she meant "never".

She looked into his eyes again, desperately hoping that she could get her meaning across through emotion as well as words.

"You need rest," she repeated, softly pushing him so that he tipped sideways and his head landed on the cushions. "I don't know what you've been through, but whatever it is seemed crazy. Just...rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

As she had been speaking, she had covered him with the blanket and he had finally seemed to understand her because he turned on his back, moved his feet up on to the sofa and began to relax into the makeshift bed. He suddenly looked drained, even more so than when she had first found him. She knelt beside him and took his hand again.

"I'll be here," she murmured again softly.

Ezra smiled at her once more, beautifully, beatifically, and his eyes closed. His breathing slowed and his face went slack - the rest of the truly exhausted claiming him almost immediately.

She studied him again, noting the lines around his eyes and forehead, the grey in his beard, the beautiful prominence of his nose, the way his moustache curled at the sides around his perfect lips. Not wanting to wake him but also wanting to be closer to him, she allowed herself an indulgence.

As she leant forward to brush her lips against his skin he moved, turning his head slightly so that instead of kissing his forehead, her aim landed against the soft white curls at his hairline. She swore that she could again feel a buzz of electricity between her skin and his and when her lips pressed against him she felt her heart quiver within her. There was an emotion there - far too big to identify, and she was unsure whether she wanted to smile or weep because of it.

Ezra hummed softly and didn't wake up. She took the opportunity to inhale him deeply, the wafting smell of her magnolia scented soap mixed with the deliciously pleasant musky scent that was his own seeming to fill her, making her want to lie with him, run her hands all over his body, know him as profoundly as she could.

She reminded herself of his ordeal and resisted. Instead she grabbed another cushion and her laptop and sat on the floor with her back to him on the sofa. She rested his hand on her shoulder, rubbing her cheek cat-like against it to feel the pleasant buzz that she was already beginning to crave. For now, it was enough. Knowing he was there close and safe was enough.

Next chapter

Taglist - @the-blind-assassin-12 @cannedsoupsucks @doommommy @shirks-all-responsibilities @taciturnsprocket @chaoticgeminate @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi

#ezra x ofc #ezra starman #ezra prospect x ofc #ezra prospect fluff #ezra prospect angst #ezra prospect fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfic

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fwkei · 3 years

Text

Time.

Kazutora x fem!reader (angst/fluff)

CW/TW: Mentions of suicide, (slight) mention of starvation.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR VALHALLA ARC

Note! Explanation of story at end just incase you’re confused also i apologize for mistakes, i did not read this over. 🙆🏻‍♀️

WC: 3.4k

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You sat at the edge of your seat. Watching the clock above your teacher's head ever so closely.

“When you want to find the common di-”

Suddenly the bell rang, interrupting your teacher from his final words.

“Oh my bad, guess I lost track of time, anyways please remember to study for your quiz on Monday! I know it's a weekend, but save some time for academics!” said your teacher as your classmates packed up their stuff to leave.

Today was Friday, meaning it was the day you get to visit Kazutora at juvie for the first time after Keisuke's death, and your attempt. It was 3:30, and visiting hours started at 4 to 5 every Friday for inmates. Running to the metro takes about 5-7 minutes, and walking from the station to the actual juvie takes about 20 minutes, while the ride lasts up to 10, meaning you should arrive there at around 4:10. And there's no time to waste.

You ran out of class, ignoring your fellow classmates goodbyes. You held your book bag tight as you ran fast to the Tokyo station. Seeing you arrived just on time you jumped in just before the 3:30 o'clock train leaves to a different side of the district where Kazutora is being held. You held onto the rail beside you to keep yourself steady as the train started to move .

You felt scared but happy to see Kazutora. He most probably didn't know you would be coming, he probably thought you would at most write letters to him, like before, but again...Kazutora believes that you hate him now. You didn't know what you were going to say to him. Draken told you that he already visited him while you were in psychiatric hold for a bit, and he told you that Kazutora was planning on killing himself. Draken did not specify if he told Kazutora about your own attempt but you didn't worry too much because you were healing, and you now had hope.

Your heart was racing, as the train came to a stop. As the doors opened you ran, and fast. Dodging people to not hurt them and almost stepping on things you shouldn’t be stepping on. You checked the time to see it was 4:01, and you still had about 10 minutes worth of walking/running to cover.

You were breathing heavily when the Juvenile building came into view. You checked the time again to see it was 4:11. You jogged to the doors of the building despite the fact that your thighs were burning from the amount of cardio you had just done.

It's all worth it.

You thought to yourself opening the doors.

Kazutora sat on the bed of his bland and colorless cell. He signed as he looked up at the ceiling light before turning his position to look at the side of the wall. He held his pillow tight. He knew it was visiting day, and his heart was anxious despite the fact that others had already been called to see their visitors, and there was still no call for him. He didn't even expect any visitors.

Kazutora didn't know if he wanted to see you or not. He’s spent so much time alone in his cell thinking. He wondered if you had figured out the other reason for him stabbing his best friend, you could read people, but he knew you had a hard time reading him. He felt his heart ache. He was scared of the karma that would hit him because of it. Maybe not even Karma, but just some sort of punishment, for causing pain to the soul that cared for him so much, and for not being there for that soul when she needed it the most. Which... ultimately lead to your attempt, which Draken told him about during his visit. He shut his eyes as he remembered Draken's words.

“I don’t wanna hear you say there is no point anymore. Because there is, and it’s kinda frustrating and irritating how you can’t see it even though it’s right there. She’s in psychiatric hold right now because she was close to ending her own life. After Baji died, and you were taken away, Y/n couldn't take it anymore, and no one could see it because she just...she just kept it in, like you do. She was going to die on Baji’s birthday if I wasn’t there to make her throw up the pills she took. Her and I may not be blood related siblings, but I know she’s been through a lot and has always gotten over it just fine, you know that...but this time...I got really fucking scared.”

Kazutora felt his heart drop to fucking hell at Draken’s words. He felt his breathing stop as his mouth parted.

“I know you love her, I'm not sure in what way but I could care less about that. I know, Kazutora. All those times you came crying to the brothel, crying into her arms, begging for some type of help and she helped you, lended you her body for you to cry on, I’d hear all of it. I know you’re hurting, but if you go, I don't think she will be able to live with herself. She’ll blame herself for not being there for you like she’s always been. Do you understand?”

He felt his body throb from literal physical pain. Kazutora was feeling and getting the punishment he deserved right then and there.

“You owe it to her, whether you like it or not, to stay alive because she's doing the same for you. And once you’re out of here, you should finally grow up. Let her cry into your arms for once. She’s your best friend, right? Because she deserves for those efforts to be reciprocated. And you deserve to see what she’s gone through because of everything that happened. Take care, Kazutora.”

Kazutora was lost in his own mind, to the point where he couldn't even register that one of the guards was calling his name from the cell door.

“Hm? I’m sorry I wasn't...uh, paying attention. What did you say?” he asked sitting up nervously

“You got a visitor, kid. C’mon get up.” said the man unlocking his cell

“A- visitor?” he said quietly getting up from his bed with shocked eyes

It was already 4:15. Kazutora grew anxious at who his visitor could be. He was sure it wasn't you, your school is too far for you to make it here in time. There would only be a couple minutes to spare if you did try. Could it be Draken wanting to give him a word of advice? Or maybe Chifuyu.. Maybe Mikey? God, who could it be. It made him feel even more congested and trapped than before.

As Kazutora walked, he looked down at his feet avoiding people's gazes. He saw the backs of his fellow juvenile delinquents from the side of his eye. His heartbeat became stronger, and he felt it thumbing in his ears. God, he didn't know what to expect. He was just so...frustrated.

“Here, you have until 5.” said the guard, taking off his hand cuffs. His back was facing you. You grew anxious bringing your hands to rest on your things and skirt, waiting for him to turn around and look at you. You watched as he rubbed his wrists and sat down at the stool still not looking at you. You rubbed your hands together under the table separating you both, as the guard walked away to patrol. Your eyes followed the guard, not even noticing that Kazutora had turned to look at your face.

Kazutora felt his face get hot at the sight of you. You had a school shirt on, with a dark blue tie and a sweater vest, Your hair tied into a low and messy bun with some of you natural and dyed hairs falling out framing your face. He felt his whole body go warm as you turned your head and gave him a nervous smile as a small blush formed. He didn't know why he was scared to see you, because every time Kazutora had the chance to see you, he instantly felt better, no matter what.

You two, and the other inmates and visitors, were all separated by a piece of plastic with a vent to capture sound better. On the side there was a subsection with an opening to the other side where you could pass things through. Such as notes, toys, hygiene stuff, and extra. You brought your hands to the table holding them.

“Hey...sorry I’m late.” you said as you saw Kazutora snap out of his gaze

“Oh no I-, please don’t be..” he said waving his hands frantically, clearly nervous

“I had to run about 2 miles to get here..” you laughed trying to not tense up

Kazutora felt… stupid, why would you do that? Just to see him? It just made him even more confused...confused about how he felt towards you.

“Just to see me? But..why?” he asked without thinking and just speaking, giving a regretful and embarrassed face after asking his question.

“Hm? Oh well it's simple really…” you said bringing your hands to rest in between your thighs on your seat

“I know that I've told you that I don't like saying these words to people because it sounds like some sort of goodbye but it’s time I grow up from my past, and stop keeping things in..so…it’s because I love you... I thought that was fairly obvious but I don't wanna mess up like I did last time. I want you to know that I do love you and care for you.” you said giving him a closed eyed smile, this made Kazutora realize that you deeply regretted not telling Keisuke that you loved him more often when you two still had time. He felt his heart ache. He felt so guilty and gross.

“So, I’m gonna try and start saying that more often..” you said laughing to break the silence

Kazutora was still speechless at what you had just said. He couldn’t seem to process it, and he wanted to say it back but for some reason he just couldn’t. He was afraid that something else might slip out. He truly didn't think he was worthy of your love and care. It became quiet. Again.

“I made you a bento box with your favorite things, I made sure to put some extra meat. Cause you always used to ask for that when I would make bentos for study days with you and Keisuke. And don’t worry! It’s allowed and you can have the kitchen hold it for you till you’re ready to eat it for today's dinner, the guards said so. And the container is microwave safe! So you can warm up the entree section. There’s rice and BBQ meat, little octopus shaped sausages and sauce with it! Oh and a salad with sesame dressing on the side, and desert which is just mochi. Every Friday I'll come by, and give you the new bento and you'll just give me back the old one, so that I can wash it and so we don't have to waste stuff.” you said smiling

Your hand dung into your bag, and you pulled out a wooden bento box sliding it halfway through the subsection, but Kazutora hung his head low. You smiled, trying your best to make things right, as silence grew loud again.

“I can also bring some mangas for you, I know you like shounen and also horror.. So I can buy some and give them to you so that you aren't bored! This week's shonen jump is good… It’s about a boy who is trying to save his mom, and ends up traveling across lands, with close friends, to get this special potion that will heal her, but I’ll make sure to look for some good horror manga too...I know you like stuff about folk tales, that sound okay?”

Silence.

After a few minutes you spoke again.

“I decided to let my hair grow out cause I kinda miss having longer hair…There's this really pretty girl in my class who has long blonde hair.. Like Emma’s but longer and more wavy.. What about you? Anything you wanna do to your hair when you get out? I’ll take you to get it done-”

Silence.

The time now at 4:40. Kazutora bit his lip out of frustration, refusing to look up at you.

“Oh! What about I bring over a sudoku book, so you can work on your academics as well! I can teach you how to play, it’s fun once you get the hang of it. Or I can bring just a simple literature book, it’s really up to you, I think both are great.”

Silence.

“Maybe markers so you can draw on yourself when you’re bored? I remember you doing that while I would tutor you and Keisuke. I can get big and small ones, and ones with different colors too. Also a sketch book, since you’re really good at drawing.”

You were met with silence again. You felt your heart ache. Your eyes looked up at the clock and saw it was 4:47. You both were running out of time. About half an hour went by of your speaking, you giving a couple minutes in between waiting for him to speak back, but nothing. You clenched your hands into fists, biting your bottom lip as you looked down at your hands, resting on your thighs.

You felt a strong feeling in your throat, the feeling you get when you’re about to sob. You were so frustrated, and you were trying to keep a level head. It was hard and you just wanted to fucking cry.

“I- '' you said before closing your mouth realizing you were about to let out a whine. You didn't wanna cry, you wanted to say something but you were afraid that if you did, it would just come out as a sob.

“I know it’s hard on you-” you said holding back your sobs while still looking down at your hands, letting your hairs cover your face

“If you don’t want me here, I promise- that I’m fine with that...but~” you said in between pauses keeping your sobs in, but your last word came out shaky making Kazutora shoot his head to see you about to cry.

He felt his heart ache once again.

“But please….jus-just say something. Anything. At least acknowledge that I'm here.” you cried quietly while tensing up your shoulders

Kazutora frowned. This was his punishment. Seeing you cry, and not being able to hold and comfort you like he desperately wanted to. He opened his mouth, but closed it soon after when nothing came out. Not even a squeak, or whine, or breath.

“I-”

You heard him say. You looked up with tears in your eyes seeing his face of desperation.

Kazutora wanted to speak so badly, there were so many thoughts in his head he just could not push one out of his mouth, and he was afraid he might say something he would regret. He wanted to respond to everything you asked him, add commentary, tell you that you looked pretty today, say thank you for the food you made him. Tell you to not waste your tears on someone like him. Say sorry for making you feel uncomfortable because of his silence. God he just-

“I love you-” he choked up and said in a louder tone causing your eyes to widen and mouth to part from shock at his sudden outburst.

He was avoiding your eyes as he spoke.

“I- thank you, thank you so much for the food! Really! And I would really love whatever and everything you bring me.” he said, quieting down towards the end.

“I...can’t put my thoughts into words… and I don’t wanna say something I’d regret. All this time I’ve just been lost in my own mind. I just want you to know that..that I really am in- that I really appreciate you. I want you..to be here, and I’m so...sorry for making you cry.” he said in between pauses of frustration and embarrassment

You felt your body get warm, your heart beat was strong and you could feel it in your finger tips and temples. You opened your mouth to say something before Kazutora spoke again.

“I..wanted to.. Wanted to help you...in just some way...after seeing you cry for the first time...with Baji in your arms….I shouldn't have stabbed Baji...I took the person you loved more than anything...away from you.. Because I was j- because I was so stupid, and still am. Even when you’ve done...so fucking much for me...I- and I took him from you...I just don’t get it… how can you have any empathy towards me anymore.. It doesn't make sense. I took so much from you… I killed Shinchiro, and I killed Baji. You loved them both...Mikey loved them both, why do..why do you even have any feeling towards me?” he said looking into your eyes with tears

Your eyes softened at him. You took a small breath before saying-

“I thought I already told you why, Kazutora. I love you.”

Kazutora felt a tear run down his cheek. He knew how much thought came behind those simple words.

“I don’t need a reason to love you. Just like I don't need a reason to be hungry. It’s just there, and will continue to be there, you know what I mean? Same thing with everyone I love.” you said

His breath hitched. The time now at 4:52.

“The only difference is I was in love with Keisuke. I still am in love with him. Even though he’s not here anymore. I know you might think I love him and Shinchiro and Mikey because they saved my life and helped me. But I was only so little. I had no concept of it. So was Keisuke. So was Mikey. Keisuke had no reason to come up to little me while I was starving on the ground practically dying. He just did it. He was too young to understand love. You think he understood his feelings for me the second he saw me? Or even with Mikey or Shinchiro. Of course not. They were just focussed on saving my life at the time. We discovered the love that was involved later. Even if it was too late to say anything about it. It took Kei and I about...hmmm..5-7 years maybe...to understand what we felt toward each other specifically. It is different with everyone. The love is just there, it’ll just be understood when the time is right. Like when your hunger just hits you. So when you ask me why I love you, or care for you, or forgive you. I just can’t give you a simple answer, even if I wanted to….because there's so much. Too much.”

Kazutora understood your words. He really did. It made so much sense to him and he just wanted to scream.

Why? Well..

“The time will come where you believe that you're worthy of someone else's love and even your own, and even worth loving someone else yourself. So don’t worry. I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes. Even if it takes all the time in the world, okay?” you said smiling at him leaving him with shocked eyes

“Alright times up! 5 o'clock!” yelled a guard

“Well, I'll see you next Friday, okay? I’ll bring over some manga, oh! And don't forget the bento!” you said getting up from your seat as Kazutora did the same keeping his hands on the table as the guard came to cuff them

“Y/n I-I’m…”

No. He can’t say it. He can never ever say it. Why? And say what?

Because he will never be him. He can never be like him for you, and he was perfect for you. He was the one there for you. He had the time to love you. He was the one. He could never even compete. Not after what he did. Not after the jealousy and envy grew and brewed inside him towards him. He is filthy. Not worthy of your love. Right?

But someday, he desperately and genuinely wants to allow himself to be loved, and to love. Kazutora will forever be longing for that moment. And when he can love, and allow himself to be loved, he wants it to be with you.

But till that time comes..

“I’ll...really be looking forward to it.” he said biting back his words and smiling softly

“Likewise.” you said smiling as you both parted your ways, at least for the time being.

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

Explanation/note: when i wrote this, i made y/n be a ‘foster’ siblings with Draken and childhood friends with Mikey and Keisuke. << Reason being is because i gave her a backstory where she was neglected and ran away, hence her having a more naturing personality. Y/n and Keisuke were a couple till he died but Kazutora always loved Y/n so it’s a love triangle in a way? I don’t know, but Kazutora grew envious of Keisuke in this ff which ended up being a motive to stabbing him during the fight, to which he later regrets and gets punishment for. Y/n in the story doesn’t know that so that’s why Kazutora can’t accept her love for real because he doesn't know if Y/n will really forgive him after that, and Kazutora won’t be able to learn/accept love till he admits what he did. Holding in that secret, and being in love with Y/n makes him feel frustrated and act out. And obviously time is the theme of this whole story. Kazutora at the end decided to avoid his feelings because the way things are going right now fro the time being for him are fine because he doesn't believe he deserves anything more. But that can only last for so long, so he’s gambling with his relationship with you. He thinks of it as his punishment for now, not being able to tell you how he really feels, and not being able to comfort you.

ANYWAYS hope you liked it, sorry if it’s confusing.

#tokyo revengers #tokyorev x reader #kazutora #kazutora x reader #angst #keisuke baji #baji #mikey tokyo revengers #draken #tokyo manji gang #baji x reader

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blackenedwhite97 · 3 years

Text

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

#polyerasermic #eraserhead #erasermic #erasermic x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x aizawa #eraserhead x reader x present mic #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #myhero #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha fanfiction #y/n x mha #y/n x bnha

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truglori · 3 years

Text

Game Night...

(Heads I win...Tails you lose)

Synopsis: Game night at Erik’s crib with a twist...

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Plus size OC

Warning: Language, Smutt

A.N- Inspiration was this picture

It was Game Night at Erik’s. He held them every other Saturday night and it was starting to become a ritual for Kaila to attend within the last month. When being surrounded by coworkers ,who became good friends, food, drinks, and music how could anyone turn down a time like this. Along with his beautiful luxurious bachelor’s pad Erik made a pretty good host.

Everything from wings with different flavors, a meat and cheese board, warm soft cinnamon pretzel bites, chicken and beef quesadillas, as well as different chocolates and chilled high class wine ,that Kaila wasn’t used to, had covered his antique walnut wooden dining table. Like she thought, he was a great host who had great taste and wasn’t cheap at all.

Standing in front of the miniature buffet with an empty plate Kaila was indecisive on what to get and how much. Still fresh to the friend group she was conscious on how much she ate in front of people that she wasn’t really comfortable with yet. Out of the six times she’s been here this was only her second time eating with them after getting pressured by her cubicle buddy ,Celina, telling her to make a plate before everything was gone.

Hearing the chatter coming from the livingroom, Kaila decided on a few slices of the quesadillas instead of the wings. She didn’t want to look like a pig knowing that she would try to suck the sauce off of her fingers afterwards. Filling up her red plastic cup with the cool wine she headed back into the huge living area. Spotting her purse and coat she sat in her spot and cuddled up with her belongings.

“See I told you, the food is good.” Celina smiled while sipping on her wine. She brought a hand to her hair stroking the box braids and giggled.

Kaila noticed that she had three cups prior so she knew that she was starting to become loose.

Laughing with her, Kaila shook her head and dug into her finger food. Looking at the small group she wondered how she was able to fit in with them. The group consisted of three women and three guys, Erik including as one of them. Every single person in their clique was extremely attractive and in shape. Her body type did not belong at all. There was always rumors going around the office about them setting up date nights to throw orgy parties. At least that’s what people assumed because they were so tight and never invited anyone else.

But Kaila had to take a chance and ask, since her desk buddy was a part of the famous group. So one day she asked Celina if it was true only to earn one of the most hysterical laughs in her face. She shut it down immediately and informed her the reason behind their closeness was because they all trained and got hired for their jobs at the exact same time and have been inseparable since.

Celina thought it was funny and invited her out so she could see that she wasn’t lying. Kaila refused the first few times but gave in after Celina had another one of their members, Leah, tag team against her insisting that she’d come. Kaila wasn’t an extrovert at all. Her regular day included work, talking on the phone with her baby sister who was away for college, and tv time with her cat, Snuggles.But she wanted to change that so she made Game Night at Erik’s a part of her weekend routines.

“Y’all mufuckas ready to get this bitch started.” Erik walked in finally making his presence known after being upstairs for half an hour. He was changed out of his work attire into something more relaxed. Nike grey sweats, a crisp white tshirt with his gold chains falling over it, and his Nike slides to match. His dreads were out of the braids that he only kept in while he was at work, now they were wild and free.

Kaila took in his frame. She watched as his muscles flexed from the slightest movements. Twisting open his personal bottle of Hennessy, she watched him take a long swig and shaking his head at the taste afterwards. She did a short giggle when she seen him hiss making his gold canines show. When Erik’s eyes turn to her direction she quickly averted her gaze to everyone else praying that she didn’t get caught staring.

This crush that she had for him was starting to be too much. At first she thought it would go away once she would find out that his body and personality didn’t mix but it became worst when she started to hang out with them. Erik was nothing like how she thought of him to be. Before hand she for sure figured him out as a smug and arrogant jerk but he was the total opposite. He was such a gentleman, sweet, and a charmer when it came to the ladies.

The littlest things he did like hold the door for her, or making sure that she wasn’t the last one going into a building whenever they went out for lunch to grab coffee. Kaila was falling for all of it. But after hanging out with them for so long Kaila noticed a few things about him. Yes, Erik was a sweetheart but he had a rough edge to him. When the drinks were in his system Erik liked to talk his shit, and he was nasty with it too. Of course all of the girls in the group would openly let him know that he could fuck if he wanted to. All except Kaila, she would never make a statement as bold as that no matter how much alcohol she had.

“About time nigga. The hell was you doing back there?” One of the guys, Tyler asked sitting in between Leah’s legs on the floor.

“My shit, my business bitch ass nigga.” Erik retorted playfully. He walked in front of his coffee table sitting in his chair. On the table had a display of all types of games. He sorted through them taking his time.

“Erik hurry up and pick a gamee.” Celina whined as she still sipped.

Glancing up he eyed everyone briefly. “The fuck is it, rush Erik night or sumn shit. Y’all niggas know without this y’all wouldn’t have shit else to do so calm the fuck down for I throw all y’all ass out.” He laughed drinking out his bottle.

“Hold up I didn’t say shit. I hope that’s not for everyone.” The thick dark skin girl who’s name was Keisha came in and sat down. Kaila thought she was the prettiest.

“Nah not you Keisha, you know you my boo.” He smirked.

She giggled doing the “period” motion with her hand. Kaila smiled sitting her plate on the floor beside her making a mental reminder to throw it away before she leaves.

Erik cleared his throat picking up a box. “Aight I got one. Do or Drink!” Sitting the other games to the side he placed the box in the middle.

Groanes and curses came from the other people. Kaila faced them amused with their reaction wondering what was wrong with the game he chosed.

“No Erik you always pick this game.” Leah flopped her hands to the side of her.

“Yeah I don’t like this one bae. You be making everybody drink and get drunk while playing this. Can we play something else.” Keisha sighed picking up her glass.

“No y’all only get drunk cause y’all mufuckas don’t know how to drink or hold ya liquor. Besides she ain’t never played this with us yet.” He spoke sorting the cards.

All of the attention went towards Kaila. Trying her best to shrink in her side of the couch she felt her cheeks heat up. Kaila hated when she was put on the spotlight in front of everybody. Bringing her cup to her mouth she sipped some hoping to calm her nerves.

“Kaila you ain’t never played this with us?” Troy asked.

Shaking her head she smiled timidly. “No but I guess I will tonight.”

“Kaila the game is real simple, all you have to do is draw a card, read it aloud so that everyone can hear you and you can either choose to do what it says or drink instead. Don’t worry about all that extra shit. Got it?” Erik asked her shuffling the deck.

“Yeah I got it.” She answered softly.

When he eyed her up and down part of her had to clenched her thighs to keep the wetness she felt down there from damping her panties and the other part wanted to run away from his gaze. The way he looked with his dreads covering his eyes was so enticing and it had her excited. Something she haven’t felt with a man in almost two years.

There was an order on how the rotation went. It was Celina, Keisha, Troy, Tyler, Leah, Erik, and lastly Kaila. She was okay with going last just to see how the game was to be played. It was easy to catch on to after the first few turns. Some of the draws that Kaila picked up were to risky for her so she had to drink for not doing them. Because she didn’t drink hard liquor Erik allowed her to take shots of the wine but for everyone else it was either tequila or some of his Hennessy. She was definitely starting to feel warm from the drinking she’s been doing.

Now it was going on the second round and it was Leah’s go,she had to draw a card. “Okay it says let the group go through your phones photo gallery for 60 seconds. Do this or take two shots?” She threw her card down looking for the shot glass.

Erik jumped up from his seat. “Unh uh hand it over. You passed the last time. Gimme your fuckin phone.” He chuckled walking near her.

Kaila laughed watching Leah try to keep her phone away from him but failed due to his tall and bulky stature taking it clean straight out of her hands. He held the IPhone to her face unlocking it and went to her gallery. Erik’s eyes went from entertained to lustful within seconds. Sucking in his bottom lip he glanced back at Leah.

“Damn girl. Yo shit pretty as fuck.” His low voice crept throughout the room. His eyes traveled down to her covered area.

Kaila, knowing what he was referring to, felt herself get jealous and turned on at the same time. She wanted him to look at her like that and speak to her the same way but she was to shy to say anything.

“Nigga let me see.” Tyler hopped up standing next to him. His mouth dropping when he saw whatever that was on the screen. “Damn Leah.”

Rolling her eyes Leah snatched her phone from their view. “Okay y’all niggas not bout to be fantasizing over my pussy.” She sat back on her end of the couch.

Erik shook his head walking to his chair. Picking up a card he read silently before trying to pick a new one. Celina sat up when she saw him and called him out.

“Uh Erik you never skip cards. What you doing baby boy?” She sat on the edge.

Erik smack his lips. “Nah not that one. Plus it’s my shit I could do whatever I want.” He spoke lowly going to the next card.

Keisha got up walking over to him. “No let me see the card because I ain’t never seen you skip one a day since I met you.” She tried picking it up but Erik snatched it away.

“Chill Keisha, watch out.” He grabbed her wrist lightly.

Keisha laughed. “Boy stop playing with me and let me see.”

Distracted by her going back and forth with him Erik wasn’t aware of Celina sneaking around the other side of him and successfully grabbing the card. She ran behind the couch and read it.

“Let’s see why Stevens was act like a pussy.” She slurred her words. “It’s says motorboat the person to the right of you for 15 seconds, even if they don’t have boobs. Do this or take three shots?”

Everyone looked to the right of him. Sitting at the end of the couch left only one person, Kaila. For the second time that night all eyes was on her. She wished that she could find a hole to crawl in and just die but that wasn’t possible for her. Hearing Celina read the card had her wishing that she would have just left it alone when he skipped the first time. She was embarrassed but she didn’t know if it was because the card dared him to put his face in her titties or that he wanted to skip the turn.

“Celina sit your drunk ass down and just leave the card alone.” Leah grabbed her arm and pulled her down.

“Oops sorry.” She burped putting the card back.

There was silence for a few minutes. For almost the whole night Kaila skipped her turn or declined when someone had to do something to her causing them to lose. She didn’t want to be the party pooper of the hour so she spoke up.

“You can do it if you want.” Her voice coming out lightly. Avoiding the stares from the others her eyes stayed on Erik’s.

His brows lifted up surprised. “Look don’t let Celina’s drunk ass pressure you into something you not down for Kaila.” The way he said her name made her squirm and Erik peeped it himself.

“She wasn’t but if you don’t want to I get it-“ She stopped her sentence when he stood up from his chair.

His body was now in front of hers. Kaila couldn’t help quickly glancing at the print that stuck out through his sweats. The feeling of his hand under her chin tilted it up startled her a bit.

“You wanna do this out here or we can go somewhere private? It’s up to you.”

The room was now quiet as everyone watched the two under the influence and yet still drinking from their cups. Kaila nodded as she stood up signaling that she would rather do it somewhere not in front of them. Stepping to the side she went in front of him and felt his hand on the small of her back.

“Don’t take longer than 15 seconds.” Celina laughed sticking her tongue out when they briefly looked back at her.

Kaila looked around aimlessly as Erik led her down his dark hallway. The only thing that could be seen was the faint wall art from the infrequent lightening outside that came through his windows due to the rainstorm they were going to have tonight. The closer they were to their destination the more the butterflies in Kaila’s stomach start to appear one by one.

“Here we are.” Erik pushed a tall black door opened revealing his master bedroom.

Kaila didn’t stop her eyes from wondering as she looked around. The theme color to his room was black and red. His king sized bed was placed in the middle with a Versace Medusa logo cover resting on top. Laying on the ground next to it was a large black and gold Persian rug. But what caught her attention was the wide mirror that was over his bed.

“You have a nice room Erik.” She sent him a light smile standing in the middle of the floor.

Erik closed his door with the weight of his body. He smirked watching her stand there timidly barely keeping eye contact with him. Erik knew that Kaila had some sort of crush on him but he never said anything about it because he didn’t want to embarrass her. She was always shy around him but was okay with talking to everyone else in the group. Erik couldn’t stand that shit. Watching her round face give her sweet smile to Troy and Tyler always made him jealous. He wanted to be the one to put it on her face but could never get the chance with her always running away from him.

Before she became a part of their group Erik already noticed Kaila around the office. The curve of her wide hips and thickness of her thighs that she would cover up lured him into her. There would be days when she wasn’t wearing her turtleneck and he could finally get a peak at her smooth and chocolate double D’s along with a whiff of her perfume. Erik’s mouth would began to salvitate as he became curious wondering how they would taste. Now he had the chance.

“Thank you. I appreciate that baby.” He chuckled walking to stand in front of her.

Kaila’s eyes averted down at the new pet name. Looking back up, his russet eyes met her chestnut colored ones. His teeth held the full bottom flesh between them. The moment she inhaled for the first time with their closeness Kaila smelled his cologne that sent signals down to her vagina. She could feel the sticky wetness that he was created and he hadn’t even touch her. Her chest rose and fell as her breath hiked up.

“So you ready? It’s only 15 seconds.” The sound of his deep voice had her doing kegals on an imaginary dick.

“Yeah let’s do this.”

The sudden movements of his hands going up to her breast spooked her. Wearing an off the shoulder ribbed dark grey long sleeve tub top Kaila was able to feel his fingertips against her skin. She did a soft moan from the contact hoping that he didn’t hear.

“Big ass fucking titties.” Erik spoke out loud not caring if she heard him or not.

He began to grope them. Bringing his hands to the cuff of them he played with her breast. Lifting them up and down. All of a sudden he was like a kid in a candy store. Kaila could feel her nipples harden on his hands, that frequently rubbed against them. She bit her lip.

Erik smirked watching her get aroused in front of him. He could feel the pebbles turning into rocks from his touch and when he saw her suck on her bottom lip his dick jumped. Wasting no time he lifted her breast up and dove straight in face first. With the combination or her soft titties and her scent Erik’s dick started to get rock hard. He knew then that he now wanted to add titty fucking to the list of nasty shit he wanted to do to her.

“Mm.” Kaila tried her best hide her moan. She didn’t want him to think she was a prude for moaning at something as little as this. It was all a part of a game for goodness sake, but she couldn’t help it. Reaching up she gripped his dreads holding on to him while he moved his head side to side.

The fifteen seconds was long and over with but he was still down there. What was only supposed to be a quick playful motorboat session turned into love bites and delicate sucks. Erik took his time placing a kiss on to each breast. Tracing his tongue over them and then giving a soft suck. He could hear her trying to suppress her moans, but he was working for them and wanted to hear them clearly.

Reaching behind her he slid his hands around her thick waist and then traveled down to her ass. Gripping her cheeks roughly through her leggings he pulled her body into his pressing her down on his thick and solid member. Still continuing his sucks on her breast he groaned hearing her give in.

“Erikk.” Kaila felt the flutters in her stomach and her toes curl when she felt his package bump her area.

“Hmm?” He was now moving up to her exposed neck never losening his grip on her ass.

“The game.” Her words came out as a whine.

“Fuck it. You can’t tell me you not tryna let me fuck right now. Letting me suck on you and shit. I know you wet as fuck down there.” The confidence he spoke with had her dripping even more.

Kaila brought her hands up to his biceps. She turned her head to give him more space to kiss. Squeals left her mouth every time he would grip her cheeks separating them. Kaila wanted to submit badly but was still undecided as she worried about the others listening to what could happen in this room.

Erik pulled away from her seeing that she was hesitant. That’s when an idea popped into his head. His dick was too hard for him to leave without feeling any type of warmth. Going into his nightstand he found the coin and flipped it before walking back to her.

“Alright I have this coin here that’ll decide on what I can receive from you. Since you’re so worried about that dumb ass game out there. We can play our own.”

Kaila’s knitted with confusion but she was curious.

“What type of game?” Her soft voice asked.

Erik licked his lips as she watched hers move. He tugged on her lower lip with his thumb and index finger before showing her the coin and handing it to her.

“If it flips on head I get some pussy and if it flips on tails I get some head. You down?” Stepping in her space he bent his head kissing on her neck. She was so soft to him and it was hard for him to stop.

Kaila observed the gold naughty coin. She never tried anything like this in her 24 years of living. It was new and exciting and with Erik being the person behind it tempting her, she wanted to give it a chance.

“Okay. You flip?” She handed the coin back rubbing her sweaty palms up and down her black leggings.

Taking the coin he strolled over to his bed. Sitting on the edge of it he patted the space next to it offering her a seat. Kaila worked up the nerve to walk over from the liquid courage that she was feeling from the wine. It was making her feel frisky and horny all in one. She sat next to him and smiled sheepishly.

Erik leaned back and smirked. He wrapped an arm behind her as he got ready to flip the coin. “Heads I win...Tails you lose.” He chuckled as she understood the double meaning.

He tossed it up just a few feet above them and caught it quickly with the same hand.

“Hold your hand out.” He demanded and placed the coin flat on her palm. There was a pause for a few seconds before he lifted his hand. It landed on tails.

“Hope you know how to suck some dick.” He reached his hand behind her smacking her ass.

Kaila got up and stood in front of him. Rolling her eyes at his cockiness she pulled her braids up into a bun wrapping them around to keep them out of the way. She pushed him back causing him to lean on his elbows. Getting on her knees he started to rock his leg side to side. Tugging at his sweats she pulled them down along with his briefs making his semi-hard long and girthy length pop out. From the size alone Kaila got intimidated know that if he knew how to work with it he would make her go crazy.

Erik pulled on the hem of his shirt hiking it up to show his abs. He reached down grabbing the base of his dick whirling it back and forth. “I don’t wanna feel no teeth. You hear me?” His command coming out crystal clear.

Nodding her head Kaila leaned forward giving him a gentle kiss. The thick mushroom tip felt good against her lips. She hasn’t been with a man in almost two years so she wasn’t sure if she still had it. But tonight she would find out knowing that Erik would have no problem letting her know.

Getting her mouth wet she let a long sting of saliva drip on to his length. Sticking out her tongue she ran it against the sides wetting his stick up before taking him into her mouth whole. Erik was a challenge so she wasn’t going to get him down in one fit. She’d have to work her way down. She let him slide in and out of her mouth twirling her head when she would reach his tip. Taking one of her free hands she stroked his shaft while shoving her other hand in her leggings rubbing her clit. The feeling of having a dick grow in her mouth made Kaila’s pussy drip and nipples hard.

Looking up she watched as Erik kept his eyes on her. His jaws tightening from her locked jaw that she had on him. The ‘gawking’ sound coming from her made his balls jump. Erik’s eyes now became low as he reached for her braids unraveling the bun and created a ponytail with his fist.

“That’s how you sucking Daddy dick?” He asked surprise as he now sat up leaning on his free hand watching her perform her work of art.

When she felt him hit the back of her throat she answered him on purpose so that he could feel the vibrations. “Mmhm.”

“Ahh SHIT!” Erik threw his head back feeling how her throat had clenched around him. Kaila surprise the fuck out of him. He never expected a head monster behind that quiet little desktop bookworm facade she had put on, but everyone know that they be the main freaks.

She was sucking his shit sloppy just the way he liked it. Her tight warm jaws had his heads in the clouds. Kaila’s head game was starting to get so good Erik felt like he had to do or say something to throw her off.

“Let Daddy slut this muthafucking throat out....gah damnn.” Standing up he lifted his crisp white shirt up to his mouth tucking it in between his teeth. Grabbing her braids and making a ponytail with one hand he cupped her chin with the other as he fucked her throat.

When the spit began to run down her chin and hit her top it reminded Erik of her big chocolate melons that he wanted to fall asleep on. He had got to feel them now he wanted to see them.

“Pull them big ass fuckin titties out.” He spoke with his shirt still clenched in his teeth making his dimples show.

Kaila heard comply to his orders. She pulled the top down and her strapless bra up and began to play with her nipples for him. Using the spit that dripped on her chest she rubbed it on her pebbles as her mouth became wetter with her arousal. She brought a hand back into her pants and tweaked her nub.

Erik watched her play with herself knowing that head wasn’t the only thing he was trying to get from her for the night. If she could suck dick this good he only imagine what that pussy was feeling like.

“Mouth to fuckin good to not try and fuck. You gon give me sum pussy after?” His hips still stroking in her mouth. Kaila tried to push him out by his thighs but he pushed her hands away. “Move them fuckin hands and answer my question.”

Closing her eyes trying to breathe through her nose she nodded her head. Erik smirked as he pulled out of her mouth. Dick standing up and dripping with her saliva.

“Get yo ass on this bed.” He took off his shirt and stepped out of his sweats and underwear leaving him in his naked glory.

Kaila got on the bed, kicking of her shoes she laid on her back looking at herself in his mirror that was above them before she felt him pulling at her leggings. She squealed from the quick action lifting up to help him get them off. The moment the air touched her thighs she grew self conscious of her appearance. Erik noticed when he opened her thighs climbing between them.

“Instead of being worried bout how thick these thighs are you should be worried about how you gon take this dick.” He leaned up and tapped his heavy meat on her covered clit.

“Ooh.” Out of reaction Kaila moaned and shut her thighs closed.

Erik grabbing them and pushing them back to their previous position. “Unh uh. Open ya fuckin legs. I know you got some good warm wet ass pussy. I can feel the heat coming off that muthafucka and I ain’t pull ya panties to the side yet.”

His dirty talk was making her pussy throb. Kaila wanted to feel that heavy dick split her open even if she cried right after. Erik spoke with big dick energy because he know he had big dick to deliver.

“I want some dick.” Her shy hushed words coming out. Kaila didn’t usually speak like this but Erik brought it out of her.

He smirked and grabbed her the back of her thighs and lifted them up pushing them on her stomach. “Oh you gon get this dick, but I wanna eat this pussy first.”

Without warning he bent his head down between her thighs. Using his teeth he dragged her panties to the side. Kaila jump feeling his breath on her lower lips. She started to brace herself when she felt a long lick go up and down her slick coated slit. Taking his hand he used it to separate her meaty flesh. Her natural juices sticking to the sides

Erik groaned biting his lip. “Mm I know you be making niggas drown in this shit.” He watched her hole open and closed as he spoke to it.

Spitting on her clit he went straight to sucking on it. Erik had to stop her legs from snapping on his head. He used the all the upper strength he had to hold her thick thighs down all the while never letting up on her clit. Keeping his mouth around her he flicked the bud repeatedly. Her juices started to drip out already soaking his beard. The smell of her sex made his dick jump with anticipation. He was ready to feel her in some type of way. Bringing his tongue down he began to tongue fuck her tight hole. She clenched down on him as he slid in and out of her walls. Using his thumb he rubbed her clit adding to her pleasure

“Ohh fuuckk....I’m about to cum babyy.” Kaila covered her mouth to try and lower her whining moans but the way he stuck his tongue in her made it impossible.

“Let that shit out.” Smacking her inner thigh he went back sucking her clit. Erik felt how tight she was on his tongue. He knew he had to open her up a bit to get her ready for his dick. He took two fingers and slowly worked them into her.

Kaila lifted her hips to meet his strokes as she felt herself come undone on his fingers. The suction he was applying on her clit brought tears to her eyes. Her legs shook already giving out. Erik lifted up bringing his fingers to his mouth sucking her essence.

“I’ll have game night every day just to get up in this pussy.” He rubbed his tip against her clit. Using her natural lubricant he made himself slick enough and sat at her tight opening. Erik lifted her thighs back to as far as they were able to go and used the weight of his hips and thrusted inside of her.

“Ahh FUCK!! Gah damn. Wait a minute.” He pulled out instantly and closed his eyes. He chuckled lowly shaking his head. “You got me fucked up if you think I’m not beatin this shit down.” He gripped Kaila’s thighs pulling her to the edge of the bed. He had her at an angle and was standing up.

Kaila squeaked. “Erik wait don’t go too deep-“ She was cut off feeling him sink inside of her. Her arms flailing over as she gripped his sheet. Mouth ajar and formed into a silent ‘o’ as she felt herself getting stretched open to max she’s ever been.

—

Erik wasn’t playing when he said he was going to beat her pussy up. The size or weight of her body didn’t stand a chance to him. He was in beast mode as he drilled her shit in. Kaila’s cry’s and moans fell on deaf ears as he was hitting her spot. No matter how much pushing at his chest she did, it didn’t change the pace or motion he was going in. She had already came on his dick two times but that didn’t mean anything to him.

Kaila whimpered as she brought her hands to his hips to try and stop him. “Daddyyy please l-I can’t.” She brought a hand up to her mouth and bit on her knuckles.

Erik ignored her knowing that she was only speaking because of the sensitivity of her pussy started to probably grow higher the more he stroked her out. The minute he felt her pussy wrapped around his dick Erik got stuck. Her warm and gushy walls clenching him every time he tried to pull out. There was no way she wanted him out of this pussy.

“Move ya fucking hand and take some dick.” He barked as his dreads hung over his eyes and chain swung low. He pulled out tapping on her clit only to slide back in deeper this time.

“Unh..okayy.” She cried frustrated that she couldn’t run

He had her thick frame bended up like a pretzel. Looking between their bodies that was starting to sweat up, Erik watched the way he slid in and out of her. Her coat attached on to his dick. The way he could see her pussy throb around him. But the way she would involuntarily clenched her walls around him when he would pull out only leaving his tip in had her flipping Erik’s crazy switch.

Erik wanted to laugh when he saw the tremble in her lower lip and her tears coming out the corner of her eyes. He was giving her that good dick and he loved watching her get ruined in front of his face. Leaning over her he started to suck her nipples while his stroke never faltered.

Glancing up at the cieling Kaila watched him stroke deep inside of her in the mirror. The rotation of his hips along with his slight curve he had on his dick was sending her to another dimension. He was digging so deep inside of her it had her mind making up scenarios of having a family with him. It was the way he stroked her and fed on her nipples at the same time that had her seeing stars on his wall.

Kaila gripped his dreads. She moaned and whimpered with panted breaths. She couldn’t control the level of her voice. When his strokes were short and fast she’d moan but when he started tapping at her bottom her toes would curl and she’d whimpered and shake underneath him. Kaila didn’t have a clue when she would be able to find another person to hit it the way he did or if there would be another at all.

“Ohh daddy....you so deep in my pussy.” Her sexy moans in his ear had Erik ready to bust. He lifted from her tittes and gave her a nasty kiss. Tongue and all. Kaila moaned and clenched down onto him. Erik’s fingers dug into her skin and sucked on her lip.

“You gon let me nut in this tight ass pussy?” He whispered in her neck.

Kaila shook her head yes willing to agree with anything while he was laying that pipe on her. “Cum in me daddy.”

Erik wanted to hold off but the pussy was hitting too good. He stood back up and stroked until he bottomed out inside her. He’d always get his best nuts when he would go deep. Tucking his lip into his mouth his deep long strokes started to slow feeling his balls tightened. Erik closed his eyes when she gripped his meat and pulling his seed right out of him.

“Fuck!” He groaned and continued to stroke his nut out until he was empty. He pulled out of her with her cream coating his member.

His dick was still hard. Kaila was laying in the same position. Her thighs sore and unable to close from staying open that long. Sitting up she rested on her palms to observe him. Erik’s eyes was glued to her pussy before taking his hand and rubbing her clit.

“I can’t stay out this shit.” He licked his lips.

Kaila shyly smiled as she was about to speak when she heard laughing on the other side of the door.

“Now y’all niggas know them 15 seconds been up.” Celina stated loudly before laughing along with the others.

Her hand covered her mouth as embarrassment clouded her face. She pushed his hand away.

“See Erik I told you.” Kaila whined getting up.

“Wait,where you going?” He asked stepping in front of her.

“I’m going back to the game.”

“We not done here yet. Now come flip this coin to see what you could get. This head...or... this dick.”

_____________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

(Going to have to edit this later)

Tag-list

@supersizemeplz @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @hearteyes-for-killmonger @curls-and-crosses @killmonger-dolan @killmongerkink @migosis @raysunshine78 @alookintohersoul @popcorn803 @just-juicee-blog @mllover260 @kimmyblckswan2 @koriiii @tchallasbabymama @toniilaney @marvelmaree @mia-faith @adreamsublime @queen-b1 @mcdesij @vintage-pvssy @viewsfromrose @ceeverse @smuttywriter @harleycativy @callmemckenzieee @theblulife @bvssmob @everything-is-awesomesauce @xoxomyaah @19jammmy @tchallas-ikumkani-wam @suburbanblackhoe @allhailqueennel @admirehermind @themeirajay @asaanime @bellanay @skylahb @toni9 @iambabyharry @kiabialia @youlovetkay @lahuttor @kehlaniswifee @childishgambinaax @readingaddict1290 @sociallyawkward18 @iamching07 @sourbabynaee @unholyxcumbucket @ladymac82 @efonteno @xsweetdellzx @shalynn-m

#black panther #erik killmonger #erik smut #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

daddy issues - chapter xv

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist.

A/N for this chapter: this is 3.2k of unedited drama and I am so fucking proud of it. I wrote this entire thing today, and it’s easily one of the pieces I’m most proud of. So I haven’t been able to fit a proper conversation between the reader and Harlan - I couldn’t make the scene justified if his presence was there, since he does seem to be the one thing that keeps the family on the line - but that means I had some ideas of how I can make up for it in the future! Extra chapter? Perhaps. We are approaching the end though. I only have two more chapter planned for this fic and an epilogue. We’ll see how that goes!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Hey!” I got into the car excited to see him again, but I tried to reason with myself that it was all because of his visit to his grandfather’s publishing company, of course. I wanted to know how that went and I was curious as to what Harlan’s plans were, that was mostly it.

The fact that I had genuinely missed the man by my side after spending just four hours away from him had very little to do with it, or so I tried to tell myself. I didn’t know how to deal with depending so much on someone yet.

But I was trying to.

Ransom’s silence alerted me that something was different. I stopped trying to fix myself to look to the side and find him staring out the window, face expressionless and eyes void of any sentiment.

“Ransom, what’s wrong?” Reaching over, I squeezed his thigh to get his attention, and he jerked as if he was genuinely surprise by my presence in the small vehicle. “You look stressed,” I clarified, eyebrows furrowed in worry as I reached over to push away a strand of hair that had fallen out of place.

He just stared at me for a while and still I couldn’t read what he was thinking. Was he mad at me? Had I done something wrong? After what felt like eternity, he sighed, gripping the steering wheel as he looked on his lap and admitted, “I’m gonna have to go to this family dinner on Friday.”

Immediately, I breathed deeply in relief, suddenly realizing just how worried I actually was that his mood had something to do with me. But then I was reminded of the little that Ransom had told me about this family - even that little felt like too much.

I could only imagine the anxiety he was feeling, and my heart ached to soothe him as best as I could. “Do you want me to go with you?” I asked, running my digits over his nape calmly, keeping my voice as soft as possible to help him relax.

Still, his head snapped up so he could meet my eyes, his wide as two saucers as he struggled to process what I’d said. “… You’d do that?” He sounded so surprised, so genuinely shocked by my offer, that I couldn’t stop myself from giggling, taking both of his hands on mine and squeezing them gently.

“Of course I would, honey.” Ransom’s eyes were so soft as they stared into mine, even as my heart doubled its size in its effort to reach out for his, I found myself justifying, “You went with me to see my parents!”

The way his smile dropped at my explanation had me feeling cold and empty, desperate to see him look at me the same way he was doing only seconds ago.

“Besides,” I forced myself to admit it, trying not to sound as breathless as I felt while I opened my heart to him. “I-I don’t want you to go through that alone. I wanna be there for you, like you were for me.”

Immediately, I felt rewarded on my effort to open up by the smile he gave me. “Thank you, baby.” He squeezed my hand this time, and when he leaned over and connected our lips on a quick peck, my heart skipped a beat.

I was in love with this man.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I sighed as we stood in front of my grandfather’s front door, trying to adjust my sweater that suddenly felt uncomfortable. Beside me, she seemed to be doing the exact same thing, fingers pulling on the end of the dress she was wearing, making me smile.

The dress highlighted her bump - it was now undeniable that she was pregnant and even if I’d never been particularly attracted to women in this stage of life, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her now.

It was like she shined from within. Her beauty amazed me, and so when she noticed me staring and stopped fiddling with her clothes, straightening herself up to ask, “Do I look okay?” I had to stop myself from laughing.

“Yes.” More than okay. “But are you sure you won’t be cold?” We’d gone through this argument before leaving the house, so I was prepared to see her rolling her eyes as she reached out to take my hand in hers.

“Unless your family has the habit of dining outdoors regardless of the weather, I think we’ll be alright.” I chuckled, rubbing my thumb on the back of her hand, but it sounded nervous even to my own ears. It didn’t surprise me that she noticed it. “Are you ready?” She questioned, voice in that soothing tone she used whenever she noticed my stress.

“Not at all,” I admitted, but in all honesty, the prospect of joining my family for dinner didn’t seem as bad as it usually did. Not with her by my side.

“I’m here for you.” Hearing her say those words meant more to me than I was able to properly express at that moment so I just stared at her, taking in the fact that this incredible person actually cared about me.

“Just… don’t leave me alone, okay?” Her immediate nod had me smiling. It prompted me to once again lean over and connect our lips, only this time, when I tried to pull away, she kept me close with her hand on the back of my neck.

Who knows where this kiss might have led us if the door hadn’t open right at that moment, revealing my lousy uncle who stared from me to her with wide eyes?

“… She’s pregnant? With your baby?” A groan was all I could muster as a response, tugging her into the house with me. “When were you going to tell your family?”

“For fuck’s sake,” I cursed, looking around the living room for the bar. “Where’s the goddamn alcohol?” There was no way I’d be able to survive this night without it, as much as I wanted to be supportive of Y/N.

“I think that’s a bottle of scotch,” I heard her whispering next to me, pointing towards a corner of the room, and I sighed in relief at her understanding.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

An hour into the evening and I had already understood why Ransom was the way that he was - and why he liked his grandfather so much, despite how he felt about the rest of the family.

Harlan was gentle where all of his children were… prickly. In fact, he was the only one who addressed me at all, but I found myself feeling grateful for it, since when the dinner actually started, I wanted the rest of the family to forget about me completely.

“I am so sorry,” Harlan apologized, rubbing his hands nervously as he stared at the rest of the family who was walking towards the dining room. “I sleep early, everyone knows that, but this is the only time they could all gather and since they didn’t know you were coming…”

I waved away his apologies, offering him a hug as I wished him good night. “Just as long as you’ve had your dinner, Harlan. Thanks for welcoming me into your home.”

He accepted my embrace easily, taking advantage of the proximity to whisper in my ear, “Just hang on to him, dear. I promise it’ll be worth it.” I smiled when we parted, nodding in confirmation to his words.

“It already is,” I assured him, but he only sighed.

“Make sure to remember that during dinner…” Now I understood why. It started with a simple question, one of the maids offered me some meat, and when I hesitated to answer…

“God, are you daft, girl? Have you never eaten lamb?” My eyes widened in surprise, but before Ransom could have the chance to throw himself at his mother, I just squeezed his thigh.

“I was going to ask her if there was any oregano in the sauce. It’s been making me feel sick.” I didn’t need to add why - the reminder of my situation, of what led me to be there with them in this dining room was very clear in me.

And still, that didn’t stop them.

“That’s a pretty necklace…” Ransom’s father commented before we could even grab a bite. I chuckled to myself, immediately catching onto what he wasn’t saying.

“Thanks, I got it at a little boutique back home. It was a gift for myself after I got my first paycheck.” I could feel Ransom’s gaze on me, the waves of pride rolling from him in waves. It made me smile, but it was just the calm before the storm.

“Ransom, have you contacted a lawyer?” This question came from his uncle’s wife, Donna - I think that’s what she was called. Not that she tried to introduce herself to me or anything, but Harlan made sure I knew everyone’s name as soon as I stepped inside the house.

“Why?” Ransom’s tone was vicious and his squinted eyes alerted everyone that he was prepared for a strike, but the fact that he still hadn’t anticipated what was coming almost made me laugh.

Even Donna herself hesitated, unbelieving that he was going to make her say it. “There’s no way you’re that stupid.” And just like that, the doors to hell were opened up.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but then again, was I really surprised?

“You should make sure to draw a prenup,” Donna insisted, while the rest of the family pretended not to hear, undoubtedly coming up with their own ways to insult Y/N. “Something that will assure only your kid has access to your money.”

I could hear Y/N quietly laughing to herself next to me, but while she was able to find the irony in the situation amusing, all I felt was blinding rage.

“God, do you even hear the shit you say? I never asked for your input, this, right here, is precisely why I didn’t tell any of you all about my baby.” I saw Y/N flinch from the corner of my eyes before I heard my mother’s fork drop against the precious porcelain dish she was pretending to eat from. I knew this was the sorest topic of discussion for her. I knew this was why she had been pretending Y/N wasn’t even there, hadn’t even been invited to dinner with me.

“Fair enough,” she spoke, lying back against her chair as she finally raised her eyes to meet mine. “I don’t know if we even should learn anything about this child, considering it most likely isn’t even yours.”

It was like someone had thrown a bucket of ice over me. Y/N was oddly quiet now, seemingly as frozen as me - and when I realized that, my anger returned with twice its power.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” I warned, just as my mother retorted, “Don’t you talk like that to me.” I didn’t even have the chance to talk back when she stroke again. “You fuck so many ransom desperate chicks, I’m surprised this is the first you knocked up.”

This was as insulting to her as it was to me, and it also struck a chord in me because of how I feared this was just reinforcing Y/N’s views of me. “Don’t say shit like that,” I threatened, to no avail. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Ransom…” Her sweet voice tried to intervene, but I was too far gone to hold myself back now. I couldn’t stand the thought that I was hurting her because I was the reason she was here in the first place.

“You know nothing about her, and yet you feel comfortable judging her,” I continued, ignoring her completely. “She’s a lawyer, actually. You would know it if you had even bothered to talk to her. If there was ever the need for a prenup, I’d have her draw it.”

Maybe they thought I’d stop at that - I thought so myself, until I realized there was still so much I wanted to get out, and I was going to do that now.

“And you know what? I trust her more than I trust you, and I came out of you. So maybe you should consider that before you attack the one person I try to introduce to my family.” I hated everything about this. I hated how they still managed to get to me, how the fact that my own mother, who I didn’t even respect, still managed to make me feel inadequate about the one thing in my life that made me excited.

I knew I’d always lose with them. They just had this way of inciting the beast in me - they brought out the worst in me, and I felt helpless to fight it.

“Okay, so she’s not some random skank,” my uncle oh-so-helplessly interrupted, immediately making me want to punch him in his stupid face. “But this just means she’s the one playing you.”

“Oh, shut up!” I threw my hands up, pushing my chair away from the table, fully intended to storm out of the room until Meg was the one who stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Did you even get a paternity test, Ransom?” She seemed almost uncomfortable to voice it, eyes darting from me to Y/N, but I could read her apologetic smile perfectly.

She just didn’t want someone else to get Harlan’s attention and interest because that would potentially mean less money to each and everyone of the people in this room, as he’d add one more person to his aid list.

My father took advantage of what Meg said, waving in her direction. “Don’t you know how important this family is? How quickly she could rise in any job because of a connection to us?”

My mother scoffed, finally ready to interfere again. “Knowing she’s actually smart leaves me even more surprised that you’ve relented and decided to become someone’s little plaything until this baby pops out. I’m assuming a few months with a screaming kid and you’re just gonna abandon her anyway. Which is fine by me, I won’t have to pretend to be a grandmother for long.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

All I could think was how grateful I was that I had accompanied him to this dinner tonight. As I watched his chest heaving with fury, I could not imagine how he would have felt having to deal with all of this on his own.

“Ransom,” I tried to catch his attention, pulling him back to his seat. “Ransom, it’s okay,” I tried to appease him, but he was too fucking gone to care.

“No, it’s not okay, he pushed my hand away, getting up from his chair to lean over the table, both hands on top of it as he stared at his mother. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He yelled, making me flinch, although Linda hardly seemed bothered by it.

Then, much to my surprise, Ransom straightened up, running a hand through his hair as an emotionless chuckle escaped him. “No, you know what? You’re right. You’re not gonna be a grandmother. I’m gonna be a father, Harlan’s gonna be a great-grandfather, but that’s it. I’m not gonna keep taking your shit anymore, Linda, you know why? Even if this child wasn’t mine, I’d still want her and this kid.”

My heartbeat pumped out of control as he continued, “She’s not just someone who’s carrying my child. I care about her. And if you can’t respect her, than I guess I was right in keeping this pregnancy from you.”

I held my breath as Ransom apparently caught his, my head swirling with the different emotions running through me - my infatuation for this man, who had so fiercely defended me from his entire family, the adrenaline from witnessing such a vicious argument.

I truly believed this would be the end of it. I didn’t know where they could go from here - that was, of course, until Linda decided to attack him.

“Oh, and you think you’re going to be so great with it?” My blood boiled when her words turned against her own son so easily. Attack me and my dignity? That was okay, these people didn’t know me.

But seeing her attack Ransom was just too much for me.

“Do you think she’ll want to keep you around once she realizes she’ll be raising two children with you to weigh her down?” Ransom visibly faltered, like she had slapped him, and that’s when I had enough. “You’ll never be able to give her the emotional support that she needs and you know that.”

I rose to my feet at that, holding onto my lower back as I softly slapped Ransom’s back in an attempt to calm him down. “I got this, babe.” He was so surprised - and still so hurt by his mother’s statements - that he didn’t even try to stop me. In fact, I think he didn’t even realize what was going on until I turned to Linda and started talking.

“Do you really think that poorly of your son that you can’t believe he has anything to offer in a relationship?” Now she was the one who looked up at me with an expression that looked like I had physically hurt her.

“Is it that unbelievable to you, that someone would be able to like him for him?” She didn’t seem to be able to find anything to answer to me, and when I turned to Richard, I was also met with silence.

Ransom’s P.O.V.

“Well, I do,” she announced, like it was the single most obvious thing, the simplest fact to deduce in the world, while I stood back watching her with my mouth hanging open. “I like him enough to be willing to open up to him even if one day he might leave me because to me, he is worth any possibility of future pain.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d never had anyone defend me like this, not even Harlan - not even my parents, when I was a kid and the bigger children decided to bully me.

No, back then all I got was a talk about how “real men don’t cry” and if my father ever caught me cowering from someone else again he’d give me a real reason to be afraid.

“And I do say possibility,” she continued, not having raised her voice for even a second and still to effortlessly able to catch the attention of everyone in the room, assure herself the ground to speak her mind without the fear of interruptions. “Because Ransom’s actions have never given me any reason to think that outcome is even remotely probable.”

“So maybe you think about your own opinions of your son’s character and see if they don’t reflect your own more than they reflect his actions.” She turned around after that, tiny hand encircling my wrist as she began to yank me in the direction of the front door.

“Let’s go.”

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #my series #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale series #ransom drysdale writings

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angelictaehyun · 4 years

Text

PAIRING: richboy!kang taehyun x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: He’s been a pain in your ass since you began working at the club. He’s arrogant and insanely wealthy, and you’re struggling to simply pay tuition. Needless to say, it’s not quite the match made in heaven… or so it seems.

WC. 11,200+

GENRE: rich kid au, country club au, e2l au, crack, fluff

WARNINGS: mild language, illegal activity, y/n’s an actual dumbass, and taehyun’s kind of a dick lol

You repeatedly tapped your pen against your sticky, worn checkbook, awaiting a response from the refined, old lady sitting comfortably under a patio umbrella. You, on the other hand, felt the scorching heat of the summer sun against your back, making you sweat uncontrollably—you could only hope you didn’t resemble a drenched pig. The woman eyed you, a bit too judgmentally for your liking, before pointing her perfectly manicured nail at the menu in her hand, “I want this pasta, but make it gluten-free. Throw in another iced tea, too… extra lemon, of course!”

You winced at her shrill voice.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, all of our pasta is made from flour,” you explained patiently. Her right eye twitched. You were an obstacle in her way of getting what she desired, she was angry. Lovely. However, above all, she was confused, “Just tell the chef to make it without flour, let him know it’s a special request. I don’t see the issue.”

“Ma’am, I’m telling you… there’s no way to make it without flour, we just don’t have the type of noodle you want in house.”

She drummed her hand on the table, absolutely fuming. She glanced at you like you kicked a puppy, it was absolutely infuriating. She grasped for nothing as her brain formulated any response, “This is outrageous! I want to speak with a manager. Now!”

You sighed, “Gladly.”

It was astounding, truly, the lack of self-awareness and consideration some people had... or, didn’t have. You wished, so badly, to tell them off, but you desperately needed the cash. After all, college wouldn’t pay for itself and the bills piling on your coffee table wouldn’t just magically disappear. You swiftly turned around and trudged away, scanning the vast garden for your manager, Yeonjun, but unsurprisingly, he was nowhere to be found. You’d known him long enough to assume he was hiding in the manager’s office, his poor attempt to flee from the overbearing, entitled crowd. How he scammed his way into a managerial position, a position of authority… that was beyond you.

You were halfway across the floor, pushing past another server when you felt an intense stare land on you. You halted in place, knowing exactly who the gaze belonged to. You glanced at the table stationed in the far corner of the garden, instantly meeting his piercing stare. He eyed you shamelessly, a signature habit of his, before throwing you a smug grin. You weren’t going to kid yourself, he wore the smirk well.

Too bad he was a pompous ass.

Kang Taehyun. You hated saying his name, it humanized him and he was anything but human. Rather, he was an evil, irritating demon spawn simply disguising himself as human. And the cherry on top? He was the absolute bane of your existence.

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes and something else you couldn’t quite pinpoint, but you didn’t necessarily want to. He opened his mouth to call you over, but much to your dismay, decided against it and instead rose from his seat to saunter over to you. You tried fleeing the scene the millisecond he stood up, but the elderly lady directly in front of you shuffled quite slowly, blocking your exit and trapping you in place. You tapped your foot impatiently as he approached you.

“You look… sweaty,” he observed, chuckling at your less-than-appealing state. Truth be told, though he didn’t like admitting it to himself, he thought you looked beautiful.

“Taehy—” he forcibly cut you off by landing his slender finger on your lips. You ignored the spark you felt from the small contact. He let his gaze travel to your Cupid’s bow momentarily, a part of him wanting to kiss your frown away.

“Ah, not Taehyun,” he reminded you smoothly. You considered biting his finger off, but you prided yourself on your outstanding professionalism. Granted, it significantly dwindled every time you spoke to him.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled monotonously. “Mr. Kang… if you don’t remove your hand from my mouth, I will shove a menu so far up your ass, you’ll choke,” you snapped, a pretty smile adorning your face.

“Oh, Y/N. Your customer service and approachable personality never fail to amaze me,” he stated, drawing his finger away from you. He continued despite the growing, fiery rage in your eyes, “I’d like another fork, mine’s a bit dirty.”

“That’s your problem. I’m not your waitress, I have my own customers to deal with, so if you don’t mind…”

He completely disregarded your subtle plea for him to leave. “For your information, I’d much rather prefer you as a server and not him,” he admitted, throwing a spare glance at his server—Hyunjin, if you were guessing from the blond hair.

“That’s too bad…” you trailed as you mustered up the fakest sympathetic pout you could. You continued, “Anyways, I really hate to cut this short, but I’d better get going. I’m sure you’ll survive with your fork. You probably won’t get tetanus, but fingers crossed.”

“Yeah, best of luck with Cinderella’s stepmom,” he mumbled, gesturing to your awaiting customer. He flashed you a confident wink before whirling around and returning to his seat. You scoffed, your lips tilting downward into an ugly grimace. The snapping sound from a couple of feet away brought you out of your disgusted daze. The lady you had spoken to was repeatedly snapping her fingers in an attempt to grab your attention. You were met with an expectant gaze when you directed your focus back on her. She was poised, her spine in perfect posture and hands folded properly across her lap; her body language exhibited no sign of emotion until you reached her watchful glare, clearly telling you to hurry along. You inhaled sharply before plastering on a fake smile. You resumed your hunt for Yeonjun, but once again, you felt the weight of a cocky stare land on your back.

He was challenging you, silently. You knew it. Unfortunately for him, you had no interest in playing his silly, childish game, so you clenched your jaw and walked away.

· ──────────────────── ·

As odd as it was, you and your best friend had a favorite bench. It sat a block from the country club and in the middle of a hidden, rugged park, but it was your safe space; it’d been your favorite place since you both found it in fourth grade. After every grueling shift, Kai would meet you on the bench with dinner. The food was almost always inedible, but you weren’t there for his cooking, rather his company. He was already perched on the bench, kicking at a pebble beneath his feet. He heard you approach but kept his focus on the fascinating rock.

“God, took you long enough, I’ve been here forever. I started to think you ditched me for one of those rich boys,” he complained. When you didn’t retort with a snarky comeback like you normally would’ve, he turned from his spot and glanced at your disheveled figure, immediately letting out an obnoxious laugh.

You looked like shit.

Your hair was a disaster, the wisps of hair framing your face no longer considered stylish, but rather unkempt and as Kai liked to put it, “homeless-like.” Not only did you look bad, you felt unclean. The sweat behind your knees was quickly becoming uncomfortably sticky and your mascara was rubbing off, making you look like a rabid raccoon.

Despite all that, you were happy to see Kai, his bubbly personality never failed to cheer you up—but you’d never let him be privy to that.

You shot him the nastiest glare you could muster, but that proved difficult considering the little energy you had left.

“Aw, Y/N…”

“I’m going to quit, I swear to God. If I have to hear one more soccer mom complain about her salmon being too fishy, I’m going to have to start perfecting my mugshot pose,” you grumbled through clenched teeth. He made a noise of disagreement, “Let’s not throw your ass in jail just yet. Orange makes you look like a traffic cone.”

You shot him an indignant glare, “Thanks.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Anyways, I made us some hamburgers and managed to grab some extra soda cans before leaving home. So bone app the teeth or whatever.”

You snorted. He always brightened your mood, just a simple sentence could lift your sad spirit. You had to give it to him, the burger looked pretty appetizing… but you’d learned that with his cooking, much like anything else, appearances can be quite deceiving. Despite this, you inhaled your burger, ignoring the fact that the meat was undercooked and the mayonnaise was likely expired. You paid no attention to the fact that your soda was lukewarm and flat—you sipped on it regardless. Your mind was elsewhere, easily drowning out whatever Kai was ranting about.

“... I know you probably had a bad day ‘cause of your boy,” he observed quietly.

You snapped your focus back, “My boy?”

“Yeah, your boy. The one you think is a self-righteous prick, but secretly think is really hot. Hm, what was it… Terry? Tyler? Taeyong?... Oh, I got it. Trash can.”

You scoffed, “Taehyun, most certainly, is not my boy. I can’t stand him. His head is so far up his flat ass, I’m surprised he’s still breathing.”

Kai nodded in feigned understanding. He tilted an eyebrow quizzically before opening his mouth, but you beat him to it.

“And I don’t think he’s cute!”

“... And I’m Beyoncé.”

You didn’t respond, too tired to argue with him. Instead, you let out a small noise of disagreement before resting your head on his broad shoulder, contently sipping on your warm soda. He knew how tired you were; everyday he watched you wear yourself down to practically nothing, it hurt him. He leaned his head against your own, placing a hand atop your thigh and squeezing reassuringly. You allowed yourself to relax, breathing in the humid, summer air. You stayed like that until he let out a small laugh.

“Let’s rob him,” Kai suddenly suggested. He was joking, obviously, but you still perked at the idea. You turned to face him expectantly, straw loosely hanging from your mouth. He visibly retracted, “Jeez, Y/N, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

“… I’m not robbing someone.” He threw you a cautious glare before aggressively taking a large bite of his burger and chugging his flat soda. You were losing your mind, he was sure of it. You poked curiously, “So I’m assuming your stance on graffitiing is the same.”

He pressed his lips into a thin line before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Obviously.”

You turned away, sulking, and he couldn’t help but snicker. You were his best friend and had been since second grade, but if he said he didn’t think you were a dumbass, he'd be lying.

“Come on, it’s time to get you home, you have an early shift tomorrow,” he reminded suddenly, mouth still full. You smacked his arm, disgusted by his lack of basic manners. He opened his mouth to showcase all his unchewed food.

You gagged.

“You’re disgusting!” you screeched, shuffling away from him. He chased after you, catching you almost immediately. His long legs made it easy. He effortlessly tossed you over his shoulder, ignoring your squirming, and carried you to his car, “Hush, I know you love me.”

“Gross. Never.”

He slapped the back of your calf and you squeaked, “Kai! Put me down! Now!”

“No, not until you say it. Make it believable, too.”

He wasn’t joking, you knew that. Eleven years of friendship and he was still as shameless as the day you met him. More so, if anything. Yes, his eight-year-old self was quite the charmer. You grumbled monotonously, “Kai, what can I say… you’re the light of my life, my hero, my best friend. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Probably die. I love you, I guess.”

“Too sarcastic, but it’ll do,” he conceded. He set you down and held in a laugh. Your hair looked even worse than before. He slung an arm around your shoulder, “Okay, get in the car. Hurry. I’d rather not listen to you complain about your lack of beauty sleep… again.”

· ──────────────────── ·

You mindlessly typed in a complicated order as Yeonjun watched your gaze drift over to the garden.

“You’ve pressed that button so much, the console’s probably broken. Cool it,” he reprimanded gently. Your attention snapped back to the screen which was littered with incorrect orders.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what has me so distracted today,” you mumbled sheepishly. He chuckled and gave you a comforting nudge on the shoulder, “I think I know exactly why.”

Your gaze followed his and instantly landed on Taehyun. As much as you hated to admit, he looked good. Great, even. It looked like he’d just walked out of a rager, especially with his tie undone and shirt untucked, which he pulled off beautifully. His hair was slightly disheveled and you suddenly had the strongest urge to run a hand through it.

Your eyes widened at the sudden thought and you aggressively shoved it to the back of your mind. “I don’t like him!”

“I never said you did.” he argued, suppressing a mirthful grin. Yeonjun reminded you of Kai, especially with his insistence on your attraction to Taehyun, or as you believed, lack thereof. He continued, “Just a reminder, though. The line between love and hate is so, so thin.”

Rather than responding and saying something that would surely get you fired, you huffed and turned your focus back on the order, unaware of your aggressive punching on the console’s screen. You were already having a rough day, but everyday spent at the country club was considered less-than-stellar. Yeonjun gave you a reassuring smile before sulking off to deal with another whiny, overbearing customer. You unconsciously let your gaze travel back over to Taehyun and was instantly met with a genuine smile, just not one directed to you. He laughed at a joke, oblivious to your longing and thank God, if he caught you staring, you’d never hear the end of it. His smile was just so pretty, you couldn’t help but feel giddy. Sure, you hated him—that’s what you told yourself—but you could appreciate a handsome face. As if on cue, Taehyun turned in your general direction and you quickly scrambled out of sight. As you turned, Hyunjin scrambled by you, the heavy tray resting on his shoulder nearly beheading you. His long, wavy blond hair, which was in a nice, neat half-ponytail at the beginning of his shift, was now splaying in every direction—he was beyond stressed. If the messy hair wasn’t enough, his hooded eyes were getting darker. You approached him as he grabbed a checkbook, “Hyun, you look like a mess.”

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I just have a lot of floor to cover, and they’re all extra demanding today,” he explained, short of breath. He groaned as he watched another set of people sit in his section and continued, “God, please cover me. I’ll owe you one. I’m already overwhelmed with my current table number.”

You laughed understandingly, “Of course.”

“You’re the best, it’s table thirty.” He squinted to get a good look, “Oh! I know that customer, he’s a great tipper. You should be just fine.”

You shifted your attention to the table in question, immediately deflating as you saw Taehyun sitting with a friend. You turned around to protest, but Hyunjin was already gone.

You internally screamed before trudging over to his table, gathering all of your dignity... kissing his arrogant ass wasn’t necessarily on your agenda for today. When Taehyun saw you approach his table, he did little to hide his pleased smirk. You undid your balled fist.

“Hi. My name is Y/N, I’ll be your server today,” you monotonously stated, an unenthusiastic but convincing smile plastering your face. To any other guest, it would’ve been believable, but Taehyun knew better; your server persona didn’t fool him.

“Y/N. What a pretty name,” his friend observed, a bit too flirtatiously for your liking. Taehyun noticed too, judging from the way he narrowed his eyes and tongued his cheek. And also the way he obviously kicked his friend’s leg under the table. You mustered a sweet smile, hoping to mask your disgust, “Thank you! That’s so… nice. Anyway, what would you like to drink? We got in a new Italian wine, just delivered today.”

“That’s alright, just water.”

“Water.”

Cheap. Especially for a pair of chaebol children.

“Alright! I’ll be back momentarily,” you informed, smile dropping the instant you turned away. As you trailed back to the kitchen, you heard Taehyun give his friend a hushed reprimanding making you smirk. You passed Yeonjun, noticing he looked as if he was about to lose his sanity. You gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder—for someone so young, he managed well. Of course, he used his handsome face and charm as often as possible; his attractiveness and charisma was dangerous. He managed to grasp the attention of everyone and it aided him greatly. You pressed quizzically, “Jun, you don’t seem good.”

“Says you. You’re lover boy’s server. What a shocking, juicy turn of events. I’m on my toes,” he teased impishly. You stared at him vacantly. Yeonjun continued to poke fun, enjoying the lack of response you gave as you procrastinated to avoid returning to Taehyun’s table, but sadly, there was only so long it could take to fill a glass with water. Yeonjun pouted sympathetically, “Good luck.”

You didn’t need luck. No. To spend a precious hour or more, waiting on a privileged, disgustingly wealthy teenage boy, specifically Kang Taehyun, you needed patience, self-control, and temper management. You reminded yourself of just that as you approached him, placing his water near his plate, “Gentlemen, are you ready to order?”

You jotted down his friend’s order, ignoring the growing complexity as he piled on request after request, no sign of stopping. “... And I need it lukewarm. Not room temperature, but lukewarm.”

You diligently suppressed the eye roll that nearly bubbled up. Honestly, you’d dealt with far worse, Taehyun’s friend didn’t even scratch the surface.

You had to wonder though, did people like this ever feel shame?

You faced the cocky redhead, “And for you… Mr. Kang?”

You cringed. He didn’t miss the nearly imperceptible flash of disgust that crossed your expression. He grinned, “Just the lasagna. While you’re at it, I’d like another glass of water.”

“You already have a full glass,” you seethed, glancing at the glass you had just set down. He enjoyed this: testing you, pushing you, slowly dwindling your sanity until you snapped. He wanted to get a reaction from you, anything other than the bored, disinterested expression you gave him every single day. He smiled innocently, “What can I say… I like staying hydrated.”

His amusement was irritating. Unsurprisingly, his torment was based on the stupid, outdated notion that a boy has to show interest by picking on his crush, but you weren’t privy to his inner thought process. You suppressed another eye roll as you turned to grab a pitcher from Hyunjin, the boy sprinting behind you with a full tray. You felt bad for him, at least, until you remembered he pawned Taehyun’s table onto you and your pity became short lived. You filled an empty glass, increasingly aware of Taehyun’s piercing stare. Your emotionless expression would’ve given him no indication as to how nervous you felt if it weren’t for the slight blush that painted your face.

He smirked victoriously. You hated it.

A breath of relief escaped you as his attention turned to his friend. He leaned back in his seat and lifted a hand to rest behind his head, accidentally smacking the pitcher, causing you to spill the cold water onto his lap. He flinched at the sudden icy contact.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you gasped, fishing a stray napkin from your apron. Normally, he would’ve brushed it off, considering it was his fault, but he felt pressured under the expectant gaze of his snobbish peer. Plus, he gained the reaction he wanted from you... something other than disgust. He feigned offense as he dramatically pushed his seat back and stood up, easily towering over you, “Next time, try not sucking at your job!”

He immediately regretted his outburst but he showed no sign of remorse, not when he had a reputation to uphold. God forbid, he could actually be a considerate person.

More importantly, though, he pushed too far this time and there wasn’t much turning back. You winced at his tone, withering back from his harsh statement, though you quickly replaced your hurt with unadulterated rage. Your blood boiled as your vision went red, steam practically fuming from your ears. Your pained expression broke his heart and he nearly dropped his act, but before he could do or process anything, his silk shirt was sticking uncomfortably to his body as ice water seeped through. His slacks were drenched and his designer loafers were completely ruined. He didn’t pay much attention to that, though... not when you were an inch from his face, holding an empty water pitcher over his head.

“I quit,” you lowly hissed. You firmly shoved the pitcher into his hand and scoffed as he stumbled back from the force. All eyes were on you as you stalked off, hastily tossing your apron into the nearest trash can. Yeonjun gave you a quick nod, his subtle way of telling you he was proud.

He’d get your resignation letter another day.

Taehyun helplessly called after you but it was useless. You were too far gone to care.

· ──────────────────── ·

You slammed your car door shut, absolutely fuming. You blankly stared at the frog keychain hanging from your rearview mirror. Normally, you would’ve smiled at the small figurine, but in the moment, you wanted to punt it into another timezone. It’s cheeriness pissed you off to no end. You quickly fished your phone out to dial Kai’s number, the line ringing thrice before he picked up, groaning, “I’m trying to sleep.”

His voice seemed muffled, likely from the thirty plushies he insisted on sleeping with.

“It’s dinner time.”

“It’s called a nap, genius.”

“Alright, well, I just quit my job… and I might have dumped a pitcher of water onto Taehyun’s stupid, privileged ass.”

The line fell silent. You wouldn’t have been surprised had he hung up on you—your tendency to act impulsively drove him up the wall and he was nearing his limit. You patiently awaited his response, likely a reprimanding scold.

“Y/N, what the fuck.”

“He had it coming, I swear,” you promised. In detail, you explained your biased side of the story, ignoring the obvious judgement emanating from the opposite line. The minute you finished, you spotted Taehyun’s panicked figure run into the full parking lot, frantically searching for you; you ducked behind your steering wheel, praying he didn’t see you. You squeaked, cutting off Kai’s tangent, “Oh my God! Oh my God! He followed me!”

He sighed. “If you dumped ice water on me, I’d be chasing after you too.”

You peeked curiously from your spot, seeing he had yet to find you. The cogs in your mind churned slowly, mixing in with your rage, “What if we graffitied his house?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m serious, I want to do it! He can’t just get away with humiliating me in front of the entire club, waitstaff, and my manager. And graffitiing isn’t illegal… ish.”

You could practically picture his narrowed gaze, “It’s definitely, most certainly, illegal. Sunshine, I understand your anger, hell, I’d be outraged, but revenge isn’t always the answer. And graffiti isn’t the most… sound idea.”

You crossed your arms defensively, “It’s a genius idea.”

“It really isn’t.”

“I’m going to do it, regardless of if it’s a good idea or not. You’re either in or out.”

Once more, the line fell quiet. His mind churned, concluding there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d follow through—you were simply too chicken. He laughed, “Fine. I’m in.”

“Great! Find his address, I’ll be over soon.”

You hung up and regained your composure. Taehyun spotted your car as you buckled in your seatbelt, making direct eye contact with your enraged figure. You were surprised, he didn’t seem angry, rather regretful. Almost apologetic.

But you didn’t care.

You sped off the lot without sparing him a final glance.

· ──────────────────── ·

“Have faith in me! Finding his address isn’t going to be hard. You know, I’m a tech whiz, it runs in the family.”

You snickered, “Beomgyu getting accepted into the computer science program at his university doesn’t mean you got the tech gene. You’re the worst with technology, you can’t even remember your laptop login half the time.”

He eyed you challengingly, before cracking his knuckles and typing furiously. Only a single minute had passed before he was yelling, “Jackpot! I found it!”

You were thrown for a loop. He was quite technologically inept, he couldn’t even open a browser without some trouble, let alone find an address. You stared at him quizzically, a smidge of doubt crossing your mind. He deflated, avoiding your hard gaze, “Okay… maybe, just maybe, I called Gyu before you arrived and had him help.”

You snorted. “Yeah, that tracks.”

You sighed and tossed yourself back on his plush bed, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered on his ceiling. You laughed quietly, you remembered putting them up there—it was really only a year ago. See, Kai had this whole star-sticker-related schtick or as he liked to put it, “Inability to have them as a child which subsequently caused emotional damage.”

You had just returned from a grueling shift and you were exhausted, weak, and insanely pissed—reason being Taehyun, of course.

It was always Taehyun.

In a frivolous attempt to cheer you up, Kai suggested pasting the stickers onto his ceiling. Honestly, it was more stressful than fun. He constantly wobbled around the bed, nearly dropping you several times as you sat perched on his broad shoulders and stuck them up. It kept you busy though, and thus, kept your mind off of Taehyun.

It was funny, honestly. For someone that swore they hated him, you sure thought about him a lot. He took residence in your mind and you felt like the landlord trying to evict him.

Even at that moment, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Of course, you were in denial. You told yourself it was natural to be thinking about him; after all, you were going to destroy his property. There was absolutely no other reason as to why he ran free in your mind… none at all.

Kai knew you were overthinking. It wasn’t hard to tell, especially since your forehead usually tended to crease in the ugliest manner when you did. He tried reeling you out of your daze, “So, we’re going to commit a crime.”

“Yep.”

“... There’s no turning back.”

“I know. I’m not going to chicken out.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, of course you’d chicken out. You always did. He didn’t see any harm in indulging you with your idiotic plan, so he found the address. No harm, no foul. Right?

· ──────────────────── ·

You anxiously picked at the leather seating beneath you, nearly tearing a hole in the worn fabric.

“Yo, cool it. Jihyo is already pretty fucked up,” Kai warned. Oh, Jihyo. You still couldn’t believe he named his old, rickety car—let alone after his ex. His car looked as if it had a mile left in it before it ultimately broke down, but you had to put some blind trust in Jihyo. After all, she was your getaway car if everything went south. You’d been sitting in Kai’s passenger seat for half an hour, coming up with nearly every excuse not to proceed with the crime.

“We really don’t have to do this. Not to mention, I don’t want to do this,” he grumbled.

“Then why are you here?”

Imagine his surprise when you showed up at his door, decked out in all-black, stealthy gear, hope and adrenaline coursing through your body. He truly believed you would’ve backed down by now, and a small part of him hoped you still would, but the odds weren’t looking in his favor.

“I’m not letting you go to jail! I can’t get through the school year without you, especially now that Jihyo—human Jihyo—is starting to spread her stupid, little personal agenda against me. Like, yeah, I broke up with you and that’s rough, but maybe next time, try not being manipulative… or a cheater,” he rambled. You flashed him a sympathetic smile; he said he was over it but you knew better. You patted his arm comfortingly and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, a flustered, shy smile replacing his pout.

“Guess what? I think I know exactly what’ll make you feel better,” you whispered sweetly.

His smile instantly turned down into an exasperated frown, “Mhm, let me guess… robbing the rich boy you have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on him! Why would I like him? He yelled at me in front of the entire club! And we’re not robbing him, we’re simply… graffitiing his house. Tastefully.

“So you admit, you had a crush on him.”

“No! I’m just saying!”

He pointedly rolled his eyes and turned his attention to the castle-like house across the street, not wanting to have that conversation with you. He mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like idiot but you let it slide, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand.

“Okay, so the gate code is probably something stupid like his birthday, his mom is probably sentimental like that,” you mumbled to yourself. You tapped your foot anxiously as you tried to formulate a coherent plan. You slowly continued, “The only problem is the crazy amount of security cameras around his house. Like, who needs that many cameras? People are dying.”

“God, I hate you,” Kai grumbled.

You ignored him, “There has to be a blind spot, somewhere a camera won’t cover. Hm…” you studied the perimeter, searching for that camera-free sweet spot. At that moment, you found a tiny patch of grass, hidden under a massive oak tree.

Bingo.

You shook Kai’s arm aggressively, “Look! Right there, that’s the spot. That tree has to cover the camera.”

He rested his head against the steering wheel, “Let’s get this over with.”

As you both climbed out of his car, you couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place. The street was littered with fancy, expensive cars while Jihyo looked like she belonged in the dump, making you even angrier. Kai crept over to the sidewalk, insisting on creeping in the shadows like a vigilante. You, on the other hand, struggled to carry your duffel bag full of equipment, constantly getting slowed down by the exceptional weight. That was your fault though, you packed it full of necessary, outstandingly heavy equipment (necessary being a loose term). Alongside the many cans of paint sat a bag of Goldfish, three juice boxes (because Kai is a massive baby), a faulty navigation system, a not-at-all threatening ski mask, and a broken hammer.

You didn’t remember packing that hammer.

You settled in front of Taehyun’s gate, hoping your birthday theory was correct. Of course, simply because it was you and your luck was awful, it wasn’t. You began pressing random keys, hoping something would work but it was fruitless. Nothing worked, not even the basic combinations. You huffed, “I guess we’re going to have to climb our way in.”

You mentally prepared yourself as Kai sent a couple of prayers out for good measure. He eyed your duffel bag curiously before opening it, instantly met with a multitude of spray paint in all shades. He narrowed his eyes and scoffed, “Jesus, Y/N! Where the hell did you get all this shit?”

“... Craigslist.”

“Bullshit, you were kicked off Craigslist years ago.”

You winced, insulted by his easy remark—he knew how sensitive you were about that. You kicked a pebble sheepishly, mumbling softly, “Fine, I bought the paint from Soobin…”

His eyes widened comically as his heart practically ripped out of his chest, “Soobin?! Choi Soobin?! You can’t be serious. No, there’s no way you bought from the school drug dealer! He’s a criminal! He probably tried to toss in some of that devil’s lettuce with your purchase, huh? Or worse… crack!”

You rolled your eyes and tossed your head back, he was always so dramatic. “Kai, he’s not a criminal. He’ll occasionally sell an edible or two, but that’s it! He didn’t try to sell me anything. Actually, he gave me a pretty good deal on this stuff.”

“Lovely, a modern-day businessman,” he grumbled sarcastically.

“Whatever, just help me climb the wall,” you huffed, zipping up your bag before tossing it over the blockade. Hesitantly, he got on one knee, muttering something you couldn’t quite hear—not that you wanted to anyways. You delicately stood on his knee as he pushed on your thighs in an attempt to boost you over.

Honestly, you struggled. Your weak muscles did little to aid in your quest, but Kai’s strength helped.

“God, take your sweet time, it’s not like your flat, piece of plywood ass is dangling in front of my face or anything. I’m about to throw up,” he gagged.

You scoffed, “Yeah, yeah, complain all you want but this is the most action you’ll ever see.”

“... I won’t hesitate to drop you on your face.”

However, before he could follow on his threat, you managed to hoist yourself over the brick wall. You offered a hand to Kai but instead of accepting, he eyed it mockingly, knowing you weren’t strong enough to lift him. He stretched his legs before taking a step back, giving him a running start, and surprising you both when he successfully lifted himself.

You placed your hand over his mouth, “Shh.. whisper. We’re in enemy territory now.”

He licked your palm, nearly making you screech, “Gross!”

He childishly stuck his tongue out. You shook your head and began scrounging the duffel bag for the perfect paint color. Of course, you wanted to create a masterpiece worthy of Kang Taehyun... you even considered tagging it. Kai silently sat on the grass, aimlessly picking at the freshly-cut blades as he watched you happily paint.

You were pleased to say that in the half an hour you’d been painting, nothing had gone awry... yet.

“The fuck is that supposed to be?” he questioned curiously, leaning closer to inspect the vulgar work.

“Taehyun,” you said easily.

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like a dick.”

“It’s called symbolism, Kai.” You stepped back to admire your work as if it were hung in the Louvre whilst Kai scrunched his nose, clearly offended by the unpleasant art.

“You know, it’s funny how you have the biggest crush on this dic—” Before he could further elaborate, he was interrupted by an awfully familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing on my front lawn?”

You cringed. You’d been caught red-handed.

Kai turned slowly, surrendering with his hands up. You, however, kept your back turned, considering just going to hell with it and continuing your tasteful artwork. He glanced at you anxiously, silently pleading for you to put down the paint can.

Only because Kai looked a second away from fainting, you huffed and turned around, mimicking his pose, the only difference being the bored expression plastered on your face.

Taehyun stood in front of you, his arms crossed and irritation painted all over his body language, but as much as he tried to hide it, there was a glint of amusement behind his eyes. You hated how his obnoxious, stop sign hair managed to look amazing under the glow of the moonlight—it was beyond irritating. Arguably, his entire being was irritating. You held his gaze, silently challenging his presence. Kai, on the other hand, was sweating profusely and dramatically hyperventilating. He clutched onto your shoulder, failing to catch an actual breath, “Oh my God! I feel like my heart is pumping out lukewarm sewer water.”

He placed his hands on his knees as he hunched over and continued, “Please, Taehyun. Please, don’t hit me with your Lamborghini. I’m begging you.”

Taehyung blankly stared at the younger, completely forgetting he was even there. You rubbed your temple and hissed, “Will you shut the fuck up? You’re making this worse.”

“I don’t want to go to jail! My face is too pretty for jail, they’d murder me on sight for being the most gorgeous boy they’ve ever seen. God, please don’t call the cops… I’ll do anything,” Kai shamelessly begged. You were so close to punting him into the Pacific Ocean. Taehyun’s annoyingly gorgeous lips twisted into a smug grin as he directed his attention back on you, “Hm, and what about you, Princess? I don’t see you begging.”

You scoffed, “I’d rather eat Kai’s shoe.”

He simply hummed, “That’s too bad. You know, I have a family friend who’s a cop… I’ll convince him to go easy on you in jail.”

“The wealthy wielding control over the justice system… how unexpected.”

“Oh my God! Y/N’s kidding, she’ll do anything,” Kai blurted quickly, shooting you a death glare. Taehyun’s eyebrow lifted curiously, a satisfied smirk settling comfortably, “Is that true?”

“What the hell do you want?” you questioned hesitantly.

“A date.”

You briefly considered his words before shoving Kai forward, “Yeah, go nuts. He’s all yours.”

“... With you.”

You threw your head back and let out an inappropriate, hearty laugh. Even Kai let out a small snicker before replacing it with a fake cough, but Taehyun didn’t seem amused. He watched you expectantly, awaiting an answer.

“So this is the only way Kang Taehyun can score a date… by blackmailing them. You know, that actually makes sense,” you theorized to no one in particular. You simmered in silence for a short moment before Kai cleared his throat, hinting at his obvious discomfort. Taehyun was enjoying this, you just knew it.

That broken hammer never looked better...

“Fine,” you conceded. You glared at him, biting your tongue to prevent you from going off on his pompous ass. Taehyun’s eyes lit up with hope.

Kai let out a breath of relief before mumbling an apology and dragging you off the lawn. His grip on you tightened as you turned around one last time to shoot daggers at Taehyun. He stood comfortably in the middle of his manicured lawn, the porch lights behind him highlighting his pleased smirk, yet all you saw was red.

· ──────────────────── ·

Kai splayed across your bed, mindlessly picking at a random throw pillow while you spritzed a hint of perfume on your forearm. His gaze trailed over your figure curiously, “You’re quite dressed up for someone who’d rather sleep in a dumpster than go on this date.”

“Well I’m not about to walk into high society wearing a stained sweatshirt and joggers.”

He snorted, “Right, that’s the only reason.” You smoothed your shirt and gave yourself a once over, feeling quite confident in your choice of clothing. Kai wasn’t blind, he thought you looked nice, but he’d let pigs fly before he told you that. He continued, “You don’t look… that ugly.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing that was the closest you’d ever get to a compliment from him, “Thanks.”

“Do you know where he’s taking you?”

“Nope.”

If you were being honest, you didn’t care where he took you; you didn’t set any conscious expectations.

“Oh! Before I forget…” Kai smirked as he dug around his backpack. He tossed you a small, blue bottle of mouthwash. He winked cheekily, “You never know… mayhaps you’ll kiss him.”

You nearly threw up, “I most certainly will not be kissing anyone tonight, especially not his pretentious ass. Besides, you know about my rule.”

He groaned. He definitely knew about your rule, it was all you talked about after getting dumped by your last ex. After your last failed relationship (or four) you created a no-kiss policy for your first three dates. You wanted to make sure your kisses weren’t in vain, and honestly, it was fun just watching them work for it.

“The rule is dumb,” he reminded.

“... You’re dumb.”

You were busy dodging a pillow when your doorbell rang, signaling Taehyun’s arrival. You were shocked he didn’t just notify his presence by honking his horn—for a pompous ass such as himself, you wouldn’t have been surprised.

“It’s time,” you mumbled somberly.

“He isn’t the Grim Reaper. This is a date, it’s supposed to be a happy thing!” he tried encouraging sweetly as you stalked down the staircase, but to no avail, your mood didn’t lighten in the slightest.

You aggressively swung open your front door, nearly knocking Kai unconscious. Taehyun dressed simple but pleasant; his expensive, black sweater was expertly tucked into a nice set of slacks and the Cartier bracelet that adorned his wrist, perfectly accentuated his veins. His bright, red hair was styled messily and his cheeks were flushed, beautifully highlighting his angled nose and sharp jawline. Your mouth gaped, just slightly, as you drank him in—while he was always attractive, this specific look had you stunned. He held a single rose against his chest and it only made him look more ethereal, if that was even possible. When you looked up, you instantly noted the hint of panic in his eyes, which made you feel at ease.

“Taehyun,” you blankly addressed.

“Y/N! You look amazing, so beautiful…” he trailed as he handed you the rose. You grabbed it and immediately shoved it into Kai’s chest.

“Let’s get this over with,” you grumbled, pushing past him and harshly hitting his shoulder.

“... Right.”

“Hey, try not to murder him, I can’t afford bail. I make minimum wage,” Kai reminded, flashing Taehyun a sympathetic smile as the older trailed closely behind you. You were about to open his car door when he came rushing by, insisting on opening it for you. In return, you sent him a nasty glare, “I’m capable of opening my own door.”

“I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“A gentleman doesn’t go off on someone in the middle of a public space,” you reminded.”

He sighed. A mere five minutes into the date and he already felt defeated. He wished he could form a proper apology, but it would be futile—you’d just shut him down. So he decided to express his apology in the form of something he knew you’d accept; needless to say, he had a trick or two up his Gucci sleeve.

You kept your gaze focused on anything but him. Your arms were folded across your chest, the evident frown on your face doing very little to hide your irritation. Despite that, he still thought you looked beautiful… granted, every single time he spoke to you, you wore a frown so this wasn’t new to him.

“You look so pretty,” he complimented as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“I know.”

Of course he deserved every ounce of your cold, unwelcoming demeanor, but it still hurt. He was flushed but you didn’t notice since you made an obvious effort to scoot as far away from him as possible, practically pressing yourself up against the car door. However, the painful silence quickly overwhelmed you, so you hesitantly threw him a bone, “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise but I know you’ll like it. It’s my way of apologizing.”

��This better be a hell of an apology.”

“I promise you it is.”

You noticed his sincerity. His usual cockiness was replaced with shyness and a twinge of guilt, and you found it endearing. You stayed quiet for the remainder of the car ride, only a small sound of confusion as he pulled into a half-empty parking lot of a local carnival. A young employee approached the car and gave Taehyun a permitting nod, making you suspicious. He drove past the entrance gate and straight into a private space, parking next to a dinky, old ice cream truck. The space was close to a nearby forest, a bit too secluded for your taste.

“So you’re going to kill me,” you observed, scanning the dark environment around you.

He rolled his eyes. “No.”

“That’s what a murderer would say,” you mumbled.

You were so stubborn, he knew that, yet he still let out an exasperated sigh. He frowned and climbed out of his car, shuffling to your side, only to find you were already halfway out. You didn’t say anything, choosing to send another hard glare his way instead.

He headed in the direction of the carnival—not the forest—and gestured you to follow him. You trailed behind, ignoring the damp mud that stuck to the bottom of your cheap shoes. You felt a bit overdressed, but when you glanced at Taehyun, you felt better. However, the more you thought about it, his outfit likely cost more than your college tuition, putting a slight dent in your ego. You focused your attention on the glowing moon instead of him, and when he turned to look at you, he was in awe. You seemed peaceful, or at least, not as pissed.

It was nice.

He led you down to the middle of the fair where you saw a crowd gathered around a massive dunk tank. He seemed antsy, constantly shifting his weight and picked at the hem of his costly shirt. He momentarily abandoned your side and walked to the dunk tank operator, speaking briefly before grabbing a bucket filled of unknown stuff.

When he walked back, you stared curiously at the bucket which was full of heavy baseballs. “This is my apology.”

Vague.

As if he read your mind, he gently placed his hand on your shoulder and turned you to face the tank, pointing directly at the chair above the pool. “I’m going to be sitting on that chair. Your job is to throw them,” he gestured over to the bullseye, “at the target, until I’m submerged.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. He was right, this was an apology you’d accept, an apology in the form of embarrassment. Smart boy.

He didn’t necessarily look forward to ruining his cashmere sweater, but he would’ve done anything to make it up to you, and your bright smile told him he was on the right path. You let out a light laugh, picking up a baseball and tossing it carelessly.

He spared you a final glance before shuffling off to his fate. He seemed to garner a lot of attention, the crowd had grown significantly larger since you first arrived. You held the ball in your hand as he climbed onto the chair—you were arguably a little too excited to send him into the cold, cold water. He seemed shaky, but you didn’t care. You threw the ball with no hesitation.

Strike one. You missed by a long shot.

He suppressed a laugh. You shook your body, ridding yourself of any anxiousness before trying once more.

Strike two. You were closer. Barely.

You had an unlimited amount of attempts, but the longer you failed, the more embarrassed you felt. He now seemed comfortable... prideful, even. Your face was flushed red from humiliation, but you tried to keep it from affecting you as you threw once more, this time, significantly more aggressive.

Strike three. This was outright shameful.

“C’mon, you can do better than that…” he baited. He couldn’t help but tease, it didn’t matter that you were on a date. The crowd let out a collective laugh. You scoffed indignantly, cracking your neck and back, your stare darkening. You were about to hit the winning shot, he knew it. He loosened his grip on the chair and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed.

The longing, heartfelt expression in his eyes had you flustered. You nodded understandingly, reeling in his genuine apology, and flashing him a sympathetic, sincere smile before throwing the baseball straight at the bullseye, sending him (and his expensive outfit) straight into the tank.

You pumped a fist in the air as the crowd cheered. He emerged from the stale water, completely drenched. He shook hair away from his eyes before climbing from the tank and into a changing room, but not before finding your figure in the crowd. You wore a gentle, soft smile; for the first time, you looked at him with something other than hatred.

It gave him hope.

After changing, he appeared by your side as the crowd slowly dispersed, dressed a lot more comfortably. He changed into a pair of fitted (and designer, you just knew it) joggers and a clean, simple sweatshirt, pulled together with a silver chain hanging from his neck. He went from runway to streetwear yet he managed to look absolutely fantastic and it irked you. He seemed expectant yet nervous, constantly shifting his feet and biting his bottom lip. He needed reassurance and suddenly, you weren’t hesitant to provide it.

After a minute of painful silence, you conceded. “I forgive you.”

A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He’d practically been holding his breath since that day and all of a sudden, this weight had been lifted off his chest. A wave of solace washed over him, “Thank god. I didn’t know what I would’ve done if that didn’t work.”

You giggled softly. He short-circuited for a mere second; being the cause of your melodious laugh had him speechless. It was all new to him. Your laugh was so sweet, soft, and a drastic contrast from the person he was used to. He yearned to hear it again.

You peered up at him without saying a word.

He coughed awkwardly. “Right, uh, that didn’t take long at all. Let’s get you home, this was a waste of your time, I’m so sorry,” he rambled, turning in the direction of his car. You tilted your head questioningly. The night was still young and you had no interest in going back home. You were pleasantly surprised, all it took was a simple apology for your hidden, buried feelings to surface, though you knew how hard it was for him to apologize. Maybe that’s why you were so easy to forgive. You reached for his sleeve and gently tugged him back, “You asked me out on a date, so let’s do it.”

Going on an actual date was the last thing he expected. His plan for the night was to pick you up, try his best not to offend you more than he already had, and get dunked into some dirty, stale water. Of course he couldn’t refuse, seeing as his heart nearly soared from his chest. He nodded eagerly, “Y-yeah! Yeah! Okay, let’s have a date. Okay, uh, this is a carnival, right? I have to win you a plushie then, that’s just basic, carnival date knowledge. That’s the rule.”

You snorted. “Can’t break the rules then.”

He led you on over to the strength machine, eager to showcase his brawn—he hoped to impress you. His boyish mentality made you laugh, as endearing as it was, you couldn’t help but find it primitive and a bit childish. Nonetheless, you indulged him. He fished change from his wallet and you couldn’t help but notice the shiny, heavy, black card sitting comfortable in his wallet’s compartment; you suppressed an instinctual eye roll. He held the massive hammer in hand, attempting to hide the fact that it slightly weighed him down, despite his muscular build. He flashed you a confident wink before raining the hammer down on the target, sending the marker less than halfway up the pole. You coughed in an attempt to hide your laughter, you didn’t want to embarrass him, he’d already been dunked into a tank of mucky water.

He stood dumbfounded, “Okay, this is rigged.”

“Mhm, right.”

“Fine, hotshot. Give it a whirl then,” he challenged. You raised an eyebrow cockily, yanking the hammer from his hand. It was simple, all you had to do was send the marker higher than his. You smugly grinned before trying your luck, the marker barely rising an inch.

He slapped his knee and cackled. You were offended.

“This is rigged,” you mumbled.

“S’ok, love. There’s plenty of other stuff to do that isn’t rigged,” he encouraged, throwing a side eye at the gamer operator who simply shrugged in return. He slung an arm around your shoulder, choosing not to dwell on the way his heartbeat sped, “Let’s go get you a prize.”

· ──────────────────── ·

For him to win you a singular prize, it took a game of whack-a-mole, a shared slice of pizza, a tuft of cotton candy, a vigorous pep talk, and sprinkle of beginner’s luck. It was a cheap, funky-looking ring, but you wore it with the utmost pride.

You both talked excessively, really getting to know each other, and with each new detail, he fell harder. Your shy smile, adorable laugh, witty sense of humor… they were all just a bonus. Normally, you weren’t one to fall, if at all, but you found yourself going against your instinct and doing just that. In hindsight, though, it’d been a long time coming. He was hesitant to initiate any sort of skinship, considering you’d forgiven him an hour prior, but you proved opposite after you mindlessly reached for his hand the second you spotted your favorite ride.

“The spinning teacup! That’s a must!” You both felt the spark from the contact, it was unmistakable, but you both chose not to say anything. He let you drag him over, despite his aversion to the particular ride; he just couldn’t say no.

“Fine, but promise me you won’t spin fast.”

“Pinky promise.”

As the cup turned, albeit at snail pace, he admired the light wind that flowed delicately through your hair. You had a certain aura, he couldn’t help but notice. It was enchanting. The moonlight kissed your skin beautifully, it had him watching in infatuated awe.

“You’re staring.”

“Pssh, I’m not staring.” You eyed him and he crinkled his nose, “Fine, I was staring. I can’t help it, you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t know where the sudden confidence came from, perhaps it was just the motion sickness, but he didn’t regret it. You turned away from him, clearly flustered, and it made him smile. The ride ended quicker than he expected, but it was a welcomed relief, considering his well-being. The second he stepped from the cup, he fell to the floor.

“I barely spun the cup! It turned, like, a mile an hour!”

“I’m sensitive! I get sick easily.” He lifted himself off the ground, just slightly, continuing with a corny joke. “Look at me on the floor, I guess some might say… I fell for you.”

You snorted, not at the cheesy line, but the aggressive finger-gun that accompanied it. He tried to wink but failed, immediately hunching over from the queasy feeling in his stomach, “Oh my God, I’m going to die.”

He made an ugly, inhuman noise.

“Jesus Christ. Are you okay?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m great. I just think it’s my time to go.”

He reminded you a lot of Kai—both of them had an affinity for being overly dramatic.

You rubbed his back soothingly. He felt so embarrassed, but the feeling was overshadowed by the sickly feeling. You continued caressing, making sure to glare at anyone that dared judge him. You crouched down until you were eye level and brushed his hair from his forehead, giving him a small smile. At that moment, he could’ve sworn you were an angel of some sort. He felt better instantly.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine,” he insisted, waving his hand carelessly, telling you not to worry.

“Let’s just head home. I’ll have Kai pick us up, he’ll definitely do it.” You paused, crinkling your forehead in thought, “Scratch that, he just got his license and ran over a cone yesterday.”

He stood up slowly, waving his hand once more. “In the recipe for a perfect carnival date, the ferris wheel is a must.”

You didn’t like where he was going with that.

“You’re going to hurl if we go on that. For real, this time.”

He rested his hand atop his heart. “I won’t! I swear.”

“I don’t know...”

He laced his hand with your own and pulled you to the carnival’s main attraction. He fiddled with the ring on your finger, proudly glancing at it every once in a while.

Just your luck, a slightly younger couple was paired with you on the ferris wheel. The ride operator shoved the four of you into the cramped, tiny compartment, ignoring the silent plea Taehyun sent her way. The other couple sat hesitantly with a noticeable distance between them, awkwardly shifting every now and then. The young men—one blond, one with raven black hair—stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but think they were also on their first date. They often glanced at each other but didn’t talk and Taehyun had to hide his amusement. All four of you simmered in uncomfortable silence for a good portion of the ride.

Taehyun unconsciously threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close as you laid your head on his shoulder. It was a subtle display of affection that made you blush, but he didn’t notice. Out of the corner of his eyes, Taehyun watched the blond boy copy his movement, just significantly clumsier—the poor boy accidentally smacked his boyfriend square on the nose. It took a lot for Taehyun (and you) to suppress an amused laugh.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry,” whispered the blond. His boyfriend let out a small, nervous laugh, “It’s okay.”

The black-haired boy gently rubbed his nose before reaching for his boyfriend’s hand—a simple compromise. The blond avoided eye contact with you and Taehyun, choosing to shift his gaze to the carnival below. The black-haired boy spoke first, “We’re kind of… new to dating.”

The blond cringed, still looking at the fair, before nodding in agreement. You giggled at the obvious tension, quickly comforting, “It’s cute! You two seem like an adorable couple.”

The couple smiled fondly at each other. The blond squeezed his boyfriend’s hand reassuringly and it made you smile. They seemed so in love, you were swooning. The remainder of the ride was silent and the couple chose to get off the ride after the first go-around. The blond meekly nodded his head in Taehyun’s direction and your boy gently returned the gesture with a shy, caring smile.

As soon as they were out of earshot, you both broke into a fit of laughter, “Oh my God! He was totally copying you, that’s adorable!”

Taehyun gushed, “They both were so flustered! Too cute.”

You both spent the next go-around giggling, conversing about nothing, and sharing sweet, longing gazes. The carnival beneath you slowly began shutting down, each area turning their lighting off one by one. You kept your hand laced with his and while you glanced down the dying fair, he lovingly gazed at you.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” You gestured below. He trained his gaze to the lack of vivid lighting around the carnival and sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.”

He squeezed your hand tighter. You didn’t want to part from him so soon and he shared your exact sentiment.

· ──────────────────── ·

As Taehyun pulled into your driveway, you instantly spotted Kai’s silhouette lurking in your bedroom window.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumbled.

Kai had spent his night waiting for you to come home, eager to hear your nightmarish tale. He planned to head to his house and simply wait for your inevitable call, but when he left to grab takeout, he found himself straying back to your house. Your mother must’ve let him in, granted he was also gifted a key and he used it regularly. Your mind suddenly short-circuited by the feeling of Taehyun’s hand atop your own. If you noticed his tremble and clamminess, you didn’t mention it.

He cleared his throat, “Let me walk you to your door.”

You sheepishly nodded, anxious to speak. If yesterday, someone had told you you would be this shy at the end of the night, you would’ve laughed in their face. He rushed to open your door and you let him, much to his surprise, without any snarky remark. The short distance to your front door didn’t stop him from holding your hand, leaving you a giggly, flustered mess.

You could practically feel Kai’s smirk.

Taehyun stood awkwardly, frequently shifting his weight, while you nervously picked at your fingernail, both waiting for the other to break the silence. He took the first leap of faith, “I had a great time tonight, I hope you did too.”

You were too focused on his calloused thumb tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand, making you lose your train of thought, “Yeah! Yes! So fun!”

You winced at your overly enthusiastic response. The luminous light, hanging haphazardly above you did little to hide your anxiousness. He chuckled softly, glad he wasn’t the only nervous one, “That’s good to hear.”

“I’m sorry you nearly threw up.” You both cringed at the recent memory. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Don’t worry. Weirdly, that’s not the worst thing to happen to me on a date.”

You tilted your head curiously, you wished to hear his story. Frankly, you found yourself wishing to hear everything about him, but before anything, you needed to get some stuff off your own chest. “I’m also sorry about other stuff. I have more to apologize than you, even before the incident, I was always so abrasive and mean, and I want to apologize for that. And, I, uh, also kind of broke into your house… so obviously I’m sorry about that too. Not to mention, I thin—”

He placed his hand on your cheek and caressed softly, making you quiet. “It’s water under the bridge.”

You shyly smiled, looking away from his adoring gaze. He tried mustering up a cheesy line but he found himself losing focus, his eyes constantly straying to your lips; he couldn’t help it, he really wanted to kiss you. He sucked in a deep breath, gathering the courage to just do it, even though he knew you’d likely reject his advance. After all, it was just the first date and you only forgave him three hours ago.

Not to mention, Kai stole your phone to get Taehyun’s number just to inform him of your strict no-kiss policy.

He hesitantly brushed your hair behind your ear before leaning in slowly, his plush, attractive lips easily tempting you. Unfortunately for him, you kept to your rule. You splayed your hand across his chest before pushing him back gently, “Nice try, Romeo.”

He wasn’t surprised, it was a long shot anyways. He’d just regret it if he didn’t try. He nodded understandingly before leaning in once more, this time to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. You couldn’t hide the obvious blush that dusted your cheeks, making him grin. Maybe you weren’t as tough as you liked to seem.

He felt hopeful.

“So for our next date, I was thinking mini golf,” he said enthusiastically. His eyes sparkled with excitement; he seemed thrilled, you couldn’t help but giggle, “Easy there tiger, I don’t recall ever saying anything about a second date.”

He leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek, pulling away only slightly to whisper, “I think I’ll be getting another date.”

He was right. He was definitely getting another date… and maybe, just maybe, you’d break your no-kiss rule.

#will sell my soul for these tags to work ahaha tumblr ur so sexy #taehyun x reader #taehyun imagines #taehyun scenarios #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin #yeonjun #beomgyu #taehyun #hueningkai #choi soobin #choi yeonjun #choi beomgyu #kang taehyun #huening kai #txt x you

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ciggylungz · 4 years

Text

She’s such an actress

Bestfriend!harry grinding on yn while spooning. / bestfriend!harry you guys casually hookup and can’t get enough of each other (smut, smut and more smut)

3.1k words

“stop being a fuckin’ blanket hog!”

Y/n gave Harry a glare as she tugged the fluffy fabric farther up her body. The two best friends were on a month-long holiday with their group of friends in Italy. They’d been there six days already and Y/n was already becoming a bit snippy with Harry because the extra people in the house kept her from being able to fuck her best friend whenever she wanted to. They had a bit of an unconventional friendship, they’ve been friends since they were teens and they’re as close as two friends can be- yet one thing that separates their relationship from the relationships they have with their other friends is well, they like to fuck like rabbits. They had been doing that frequent banging since they were in secondary school, anytime Harry would be back from tour for a while from his one direction days they’d usually spend that time getting absurdly drunk and pleasuring each other.

Not having been able to really touch Harry like she’s used to for the last week, she’s starting to get needy which makes her act moody and on edge. Harry gave the girl a sideways glance, raising his eyebrows as a sort of ‘quit it’ reaction to her behavior only getting a huff from her in return. Harry had been met with this huffy puffy version of his best friend many times, whenever he’d annoy her or she didn’t get her way she’d turn on her snarky side. It didn’t phase him anymore. He of course knew why she was acting like this, but he was a little limited in how he can fix it seeing as they’re in a house with 8 of their closest friends- who would never let them hear the end of it if they got caught and he didn’t want to deal with their prying- so he was aware he’d have to deal with this attitude till he could take care of her properly.

y/n laid herself down on the couch, putting her feet in Harry’s lap under the blanket, prompting him to softly massage them for her to get on her good side at least while they watched a movie with their friends and all had a few beers after a day at the beach. The man absentmindedly ran his thumbs on the arch of her right foot, eyes on the screen as he gave her soothing touches smiling soft when he felt her twitch a little. He knew she was ticklish yet she liked when he’d give her massages, so it was an odd combination of her twitching and giggling while letting out relaxed sighs. He didn’t mind though; she had soft skin and always kept her toes manicured so he had no problem with it. He once tried to get her to do the same for him and she pretended to gag before smacking his feet off her lap which he laughed at.

His gaze averted from the screen down to his own blanket covered lap when he felt her left foot starting to nudge at his sweatpants covered crotch. Harry let out a sigh through his nose, while of course he wanted to fuck her brains out he also didn’t want to get a stiffy while sitting with their friends. Plus, knowing he got the girl so needy even her mood was affected gave him a bit of cocky pride- no pun intended. The man pinched her foot giving her a warming glance whilst shaking his head and pushing her feet from his lap, opting to go grab another beer from the fridge knowing he was driving her up the fucking wall.

Y/n was anything but pleased with his antics, so with a scowl she threw the blanket off herself and declared she was going to go shower and go to bed making sure she gave Harry a good side eye and middle finger as she pasted him in the kitchen which made the man chuckle before doing the same just to piss her off further.

Y/n changed into some sleep shorts and one of Harrys old sweatshirts he gave her years ago, she had been left to make herself cum in the shower since Harry was being a little shit and now she was even more annoyed because even after 2 shower head on clit fueled orgasms she still was dying to touch him, smell him, kiss him anything! She needed to feel his big callused hands on her skin, smell his natural musk and hint of cologne and the mint gum he chewed with a lingering bitterness of beer on the corners of his mouth. She needed her bitch of a best friend to stop starving her of the touches she’s used to getting before she threatens to put out applications for a new best friend. (she never claimed to not be dramatic afterall), even if they couldn’t get away with banging regularly here, she needed something or her head was going to explode.

Laying back on her bed she started thinking about how good he looked at the beach earlier that day. Tanned skin complimenting his tattoos, his thick thighs she loves to kiss, mark with hickeys and hump looking extra inviting covered in a sheen of sea water drying onto him under the hot sun. His back muscles imprinted through his exterior whenever he’d lift one of their friends up to toss into the water or punt a volleyball, she almost drooled at the sight of him playing the sport. And god, she could easily make out the lump of his meat through the pale pink swim shorts he was wearing. Even his soft cock could make her knees weak, she’s proved that many times when she’d ask him if she could kiss his soft length, or proposed cock warming. She had no idea how Harry could control himself enough to stay soft when he let her kiss his cock or cuddle with it inside her, but it made it undoubtably sexier to her. she had a love for his manhood, soft, hard, she didn’t care she loved it in every state. It made her feel like a two-dollar hooker, yet she didn’t care because it was her Harry. Best friends over everything.

She let out a pitiful huff, opting to scroll through her phone as she lounged in bed. In the midst of her falling down the Instagram black hole of soap cutting videos she got a text from the man that’s been driving her insane the last six days.

‘you gonna come finish the movie with us or are you gonna pout like a child?’

The young woman felt her attitude flare back up, sending him a snotty text just to get a reaction out of him, wanting to make him mad like she was- which she knew was proving his point that she was being childish.

‘I’m on tinder finding someone to fuck, finish the movie without me’

When the man read the text he knew what she was doing, and yet it still gave him a little tingle of possessiveness and irritation. Of course, he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him, but he also didn’t feed into her bratty behavior. He knew he was making it worse, and she’d give him a wack to the dick if he kept up his antics yet he took his chances wanting to see how worked up he could actually get the girl.

‘have fun, be safe call someone if you need a ride home’

To say Y/n was shocked to see him respond with that, was accurate. Her mouth went slack slightly and her chest shook a little. She was pissed, needy, and sad that he was acting like he really didn’t care about how she felt. She was sensitive, she knew her period was coming next week so her hormones were causing her sex drive and emotions to skyrocket. In her pissed off state she decided she’d really do it, just to piss him off as much as he did to her. two can play at this game.

When the girl was slipping a skimpy dress over her figure, Harry finally decided to make an appearance. He’d heard an awful lot of thumping and shuffling from her room and decided to investigate yet he was surprised to see her now in a dress that left very little to the imagination. He raised an eyebrow as he loomed in the doorway, his shoulder pressed into it while he casually leaned against the wood using his finger to motion to her body. “What are yeh doin’?”, his question made her meet his glance in the mirror a rather unamused glare coming from her eyes. “I’m going out, told y’ that didn’t i? gon’ go find someone to fuck me.”

Harry met tsked the girl slightly, walking further into the room. “No yer’ not, take that dress off and put your pj’s back on.” The man pointed a finger to her disregarded prior clothing, Y/n of course challenged this with a hand on her hip. “Yes, I am. You’re not in charge of me, I’m an adult.” Harry shrugged, not giving into the temptation to argue. “Never said you weren’t grown, I said yer not goin’ out and you’re gonna put your clothes back on. Now, get to it.” His stare seemed to have some sort of power over her, seeing as Y/n found herself quickly caving and shimmying out of the dress.

Harry took a step into the room, closing the door behind him to give her a bit more privacy incase one of their friends walked by and caught a glimpse of her in the process of changing. The girl gave him a pouty face when she stepped out of the material that now was pooled around her ankles, her tits spilling out of her bra as she stood before him in only her undergarments. He watched her carefully as she switched back into her former outfit and slowly stalked towards him, standing about a foot away from his body before tilting her head up to look at him.

Harry noticed how frustrated she was in a simple glance, a small frown forming on his own face when her waterline became a darker shade of red and tears glossed over her pretty eyes. Damp eyelashes sticking together slightly as she blew out a breath, “You’re being mean t’ me Haz, I don’t like it..” she knew she sounded pathetic but she didn’t care. She was touch and attention starved by her best friend and favorite boy and her period was on it’s way so she had a right to get emotional if she wanted to. Harry pouted at her, opening his arms for her to press herself into him which she did gladly, face smooshed into his chest while her fists bunched up his shirt. “Don’t need to cry, it’s alright bug. Everything is okay, here can cuddle yea? Will that work?” and because Y/n was so desperate at this point, she was willing to compromise for a cuddle.

The pair laid together, Y/n in her little spoon position and Harry behind her as they stared at the television that was playing on the wall. She held his large hand in hers, rings being toyed with by her fingers while she let herself be soothed by the beating of his heart against her back.

Even though Harry was plagued by thoughts of their friends catching them in a compromising position, he couldn’t help but notice his cock plumping up with Y/ns bum pressed into him. He knew it wasn’t like she was being intentionally teasing now, she’d settled for a cuddle because she just needed any touch from him but now- he was becoming the needy one. He decided to keep it subtle, acting as if he was repositioning himself yet angling his hips so his now semi hard cock could grind against the flesh of her ass. Grinding was something they did often, it was one of their favorite sexual acts. Her grinding on his thigh, cock, hips, or tummy. Harry grinding himself on her ass, clothed cunt or sometimes fucking himself with her thighs. Grinding was something they were very much into, and only after a few moments of him jutting his hips into her flesh she turned her head to see him.

“What are you doin’?” the man let out a long sigh, pulling her to roll over to face him by her hip nudging his nose with her being rewarded with a trembling breath blowing out of her lips to fan over his own. “I know you’ve been missin’ me huh? Had to keep m’ hands off yeh, ‘m sorry doll. Never meant to have my girl in tears, look I miss yeh too.” He gently grabbed her hand to migrate towards his swelling crotch letting her cup him through the material her eyes moving to look down at her moving hand, “no no, doll look at me. eyes on mine, gonna play with yeh okay? Gotta be quiet, think you can be quiet for me?”

Her nodding was so frantic she could hear the ticking noise of her brain moving inside her skull, making herself slightly dizzy for a second before Harry grabbed her attention again. “What do yeh wanna do sweetheart? Can you stay quiet if I fuck yeh or do we gotta settle for something else?” a quiet pleading whimper passed through her vocal cords almost in physical pain from the anticipation, Harry hadn’t given in yet he hadn’t let her press their lips together, pulling away to only brush noses every time she tried. “Need an answer then yeh can have a kiss.”

Y/n swallowed thickly, labored breaths coming from her body. “I can be quiet H, promise please I n-need you” her voice cracked with the weight of need, a whimper clawing its way out of her when he stood up to lock her door before shuffling back to the bed. Harry knew Y/n like the back of his hand, he could tell by the small dots of acne starting to present on her chin and the way she’s acting that her period was coming and that let him know she’d cum fast due to sensitivity, which was perfect for this risky scenario. The girl took it upon herself to start stripping herself down, bra coming off as fast as her sweatshirt did showing her slightly swollen tits and nipples a shade darker than usual confirming his previous realization.

She slipped her underwear off herself harry worked to push his sweats off as his free arm held up the duvet as an emergency shield incase the lock didn’t work watching the girl scramble to get under the blanket as she waited anxiously for Harry to join her.

His body was heavy on top of hers, chests pressed together while he guided his tip into her. Y/n instinctively wrapped around his waist, his other hand covering her mouth while he sunk himself inside the girl. Her wet warmth never failed to make his breath hitch, she felt so goddamn good every fucking time. the vibrations of her noises of pleasure tickled his palm, her drool wetting his palm whilst she struggled to keep herself together. She was always a sensitive little thing, but after a week without being touched she could hardly contain herself. Harry moved his hips in quick succession refusing to move his hand because he didn’t trust her to be quiet and honestly, he was struggling to stay quiet himself.

Harry used his free hand to anchor her thighs apart so he can get a good swivel into her, his pubic hair tickling her clit every time he circled his hips flush into her, both her cunt lips and the insides of her thighs getting stimulated with every thrust he gave her. He was well aware of how obsessed Y/n was with his lower half, including his happy trail, collection of curls sat above his cock and of course his previously fawned over thighs and every time he’d let her give him kisses down there she’d nuzzle her nose and lips into the hair. Often licking up the stripe of hair on his stomach, she really had a thing for his junk and she loved when he’d let his lower region tickle at her clit and lips while he fucked her. Y/n was on the verge of passing out, attempting to be quiet while he did everything to her poor cunt that he knew made her twitch and scream under normal circumstance. It felt almost cruel, wishing she could just scream out everything she needed to but she knew better and could focus on nothing else accept her orgasm approaching like a freight train.

Harry could feel how close she was, her g-spot has swelled a considerable amount from the way the crown of his cock massaged it with vigor during every rough thrust inside of her. she was soaking wet, almost so much so he was struggling to not slip out of her and her walls were fluttering. The clenching of her intimate muscles came in 10 second intervals warning him about her approaching climax, her eyes begging him not to stop because his palm was still firmly secured onto her mouth now completely soaked with her drool, her tongue desperately lapping at his hand to taste any part of him periodically as he drove himself deeper into her.

“Fuckin’ Christ, you gonna cum?” Y/n nodded frantically whimpering into his palm while digging her fingers into his arm trying to feel any sense of control while her body spiraled into ecstasy. With a buck of her restrained hips and trembling of her entire body she started to cum, hard .

“Oh fuck, cumming hard huh? God y/n baby fuck..where do you want it? ‘m gonna cum baby where do you want it?” his speed started to falter as he felt the pressure in his balls reach it’s breaking point, y/n responded by pointing a trembling hand to her mouth which made the mans eyes roll back and his hand quickly uncover her opening just in time for him to crawl up her body, knees on either side of her head as he spilled his seed into her drooly panting mouth. The sight was filthy, but god he swears she still looks beautiful with a mouth full of his cum and tear stained cheeks.

She swallowed it quickly, sticking her tongue out to swipe at his tip making sure she got the last drop before he rolled off her and dropped beside her. they were coated in sweat, cum and drenched in lust but god there truly was no place they’d rather be.

#harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #bestfriend!harry

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dissociativedaydream · 3 years

Text

Soft - Part 3

Pairing: Bossk x Vertani!reader (read more about Vertani here)

Word Count: ~2.4K

Tags: NSFW (18+), brief mentions of alcohol, a dash of protective!Bossk, talks about family building, illusion to breeding kink, unprotected PiV, double penetration (both in V), brief mention of cum eating

A/N: so I have a headcanon that Trandoshans make noises like some lizards do to indicate their needs/emotions, I bring it up here toward the end so I wanted to address it

<- Part 2

NSFW below the cut

“No, the agreement was you could come but you stay on the ship.”

It had been months since your father kidnapped you from the apartment you had shared with Bossk on Tattoine. With the help of Latts you were able to convince your husband to let you follow along on jobs. He still insisted on continuing to pay rent in case you one day decided that you wanted to stay behind.

So the fact you were starting to ask to actually help with jobs was annoying him.

Latts and Dengar, the human man that joined your pickup, enjoyed the fact that you were annoying the normally stoic Trandoshan. It was evident now as Latts giggled and Dengar smirked while gathering his gear.

“Please. I can be helpful.” You pouted.

He huffed. “This isn’t a discussion about you being helpful. I don’t want you in danger.”

You continued to pout as he nuzzled your hair before following the other two bounty hunters off the ship. Boba hadn’t come on this one, something about them being able to do the job without him. He was sprouting into quite the leader.

To pass the time you took inventory and tidied up the ship. For someone that was a bachelor up until recently, Bossk kept his ship pretty well organized and clean. That meant you quickly ran out of ways to keep yourself busy. You grabbed the datapad that Bossk had gotten you for situations like this.

Settling into the copilot chair you read up on the planet you were currently on, some backwater jungle planet. You lost track of time, only looking up when you heard the group return. They all sounded like they were in good spirits so hopefully, that means the job went well.

“Hey wifey!” Latts Razzi swept into the cockpit with her standard smirk. “We’re going to go get drinks so celebrate, want to come?”

You all but jump out of your seat, “yes please, I’m so bored.”

Latts giggled holding out a hand to you. You wrapped your arms around each other’s shoulders and walked to where the boys were waiting just outside the ship.

Bossk clicked his tongue as you two appeared. “Making a move Latts?”

“It’s tempting,” Latts leaned her head into the side of yours as you two giggled.

Your husband extended an arm to you and you moved to embrace him. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, a rare occurrence for him. While Latts was joking, maybe he was a little nervous. Or the job paid a lot. You didn’t really care, you enjoyed the extra affection. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders as your group walked to the closest bar.

The bar was crowded, only a few seats were open at the bar counter. People stared at your odd group as you walked to the seats, Bossk’s grip on you tightened as someone whistles. There were only the two open seats and Bossk all but pushed you down into one, Latts sitting in the other. He took a territorial stance behind you two, glancing over his shoulder.

You followed his gaze to a group of Trandoshans, surprisingly you recognized one of them as Cradossk, his father.

Leaning in you whisper so that only he and Latts could hear you, “what is he doing here?”

“There was a liiiittle competition for the bounty.” Latts admitted, an uneasy grin on her face. “They’re not super happy about it.”

You grasped Bossk’s shoulder, his muscles were tense. “Maybe we should wait to celebrate until we’re back on Tattoine.”

Dengar snorted behind you, “I doubt they’ll actually try anything. Cradossk wouldn’t stop asking about you when we bumped into him in the middle of the job.”

You quirked your brow at him, “why?”

Before he could respond Bossk growled, effectively cutting him off. You frown, turning to your husband. His face was scrunched, his already intimidating appearance looking downright frightening. Well, frightening to other people.

“If you think I’m not going to get the answer eventually, then you don’t realize who you married.” You grumbled, squeezing his shoulder.

His face relaxed slightly, a breathy chuckle leaving him. “I know. Let’s get a drink then get going.”

“Are you going to tell me what your dad was asking or am I going to have to annoy it out of you?” You mumbled into the collar of your husband’s nightshirt.

You’d made it back to Tattoine that afternoon, the three bounty hunters going to report to Boba while you headed back to your and Bossk’s apartment. He’d stayed away until it was late, no doubt hoping to avoid this very situation. Unfortunately for him, you’re stubborn as hell.

He grumbled in response, the low noise rattling his chest. “Can’t this wait?”

You rolled your eyes before moving so you were face to face with the Trandoshan. He refused to make eye contact, instead opting to stare at the ceiling. Sighing you traced a finger down his chest, with his muscle relaxed he was softer than he looked.

“You’re hoping I’ll forget.” You smirked. “If you don’t want me to keep asking, then you’ll have to just tell me. It can’t be that bad.”

He was quiet and still for a moment, if it wasn’t for his blinking eyes you’d think he fell asleep.

“He wanted to know if you were expecting yet.” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet, obviously not wanting to have this conversation.

“Oh,” you reply.

You weren’t really surprised. Both Trandoshans and Vertani had a heavy focus on families and a baby would solidify your marriage. It was odd that Bossk was so reluctant to tell you something so normal to both your people.

While you wanted answers, you were reluctant to push. You liked to annoy him with little things, this didn’t seem little to him. Instead, you snuggled back into his side.

“That’s it?” Bossk interrupted the silence.

You hummed, “yeah.”

He pushed you back slightly so he could sit up, you propped yourself up on an elbow to watch him stretch.

“What do you think about it?” He asked, standing to gaze out the window blinds.

This was the most fidgety you’d ever seen him in the last year you’d been together. Normally he was the definition of either stoic or angry. It was making you a little nervous.

Nevertheless, you answered. “I would like a family but it’s not the end of the world if we don’t have one.”

Bossk didn’t react for a few minutes. You laid back down, tracing patterns on the blankets, waiting for him to respond. Finally, he moved but instead of speaking, he moved to hover over you, caging you to the bed.

“Pretty relax answer for someone trying to figure out my cycle.” He chuckled.

You felt your cheeks flush. He was half right.

“Sort of,” you admit.

He says nothing as he leans down, tongue lolling out of his mouth before he licks a stripe up your neck.

“Continue.” His voice resumes its relaxed grumble.

You sighed. “I thought maybe my cycle would sync with yours if I was around you more.”

His eyes snap up to yours, a mischievous glint in them.

“You should have told me, little wife,” he clicked his tongue in pretentious chastising. “Pheromones would fix that right up.”

Pheromones, duh, why didn’t you think of that? Bossk often let you know he could tell what emotion you were feeling through your scent, it made sense pheromones would be a factor.

“I didn’t know how you would take it.” Your second admission caused him to look at you skeptically.

“Isn’t communication key my little wife? Why wouldn’t I want to give you exactly what you want?” His voice is almost a purr as a hand moves down your chest, pausing over your breast. “What my girl wants, she gets.”

His words went straight to your core, surprised at his words.

“What about you? What do you want?” You asked.

Bossk’s hand moves down and lingers on your stomach, thumb stroking the fabric of your shirt lightly. He looks up at you pointedly.

“Noted,” you breathe, somewhat surprised.

You guess you shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like either of you had been careful with sex but explicitly saying it changed things, made it real. He shifted, hand moving down to the crotch of his pants to adjust himself and drawing your attention to the straining fabric. Raising one of your brows you smirk at him.

“So pheromones, huh?” You giggled.

He shot you a warning look before pulling his shirt off, discarding it on the floor.

“I won’t be gentle when I fuck you while in rut.” He growled.

You giggle, “you’re usually gentle? Pretty sure the bruises on my hips beg to differ.”

He leaned down, nuzzling your neck before licking it again, this time with his sharp teeth grazing over your pulse point as well.

“That’s nothing little wife,” he murmured against your skin.

“Show me.”

The growl that erupted from your husband’s throat went straight to your core and admittedly startled you momentarily. He grabbed your shirt, the sound of ripping fabric the only sound in the room as his claws tore it easily. His tongue teased across your breasts, his saliva leaving a warm trail across your skin. He trailed his tongue up your neck and chin, nipping your skin lightly as he went. A strong hand trailed down your naked body, grabbing your underwear, nearly ripping it too.

“Uh uh, these are the ones you like.” You interrupted his movement.

He grumbled but conceded, they were his favorite, he carefully moved the fabric over your hips before his tongue was between your legs. Bossk’s tongue pushed inside you, a content grumble in his throat as he tasted you. His claws dragged up your thighs causing you to hiss at the sting. He paused, glancing up at you checking that you were okay. When you nod he acknowledges it with a flick of his tongue, hitting a soft spot inside you.

You moan loudly, his claws digging into the meat of your thighs in response. He’d stated on a few occasions that he enjoyed the variety of noises you made, especially in the bedroom.

“You know,” you murmured. “This isn’t very different from normal.”

His reply chuckle was deep in his throat, “Let me enjoy you little wife, I missed your taste.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes, squeezing his head between your thighs to be a brat. He growled in response, nipping your thigh with sharp teeth.

“Ow!” You recoiled, seeing red pinpricks where his teeth pierced your skin.

“That’s a taste of what you wanted me to show you little wife. Do you still want it?” He murmured before licking across the small wound.

You thought for a moment, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you to the point of genuine pain. Not that you entirely hated the pain either. All you knew right now is his tongue felt really good as it soothed your skin which caused you to whimper.

Bossk groaned, pulling his pants down. He reached down grabbing his cocks in one hand and started stroking himself, groaning at his own touch. You whimpered in disappointment and pouted.

Chuckling Bossk clicked his tongue, “want something?”

You reached down between your legs, touching your neglected clit. He grumbled, watching as you traced tight circles around the sensitive nerve. Pushing your hand away, he lined his cocks up with your entrance.

“Ready to try?” He asked softly.

You nod nervously, up until now you’d only taken one at a time. But you knew during his rut his amped up body would only be satisfied if you could take both.

He rubbed the heads of his cock through your folds, adding your juices to his, “Breathe little wife.”

Bossk eased into you slowly, you winced at the stretch and a whispered chorus of curse words left your lips. He moaned loudly as he bottomed out inside you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

His cocks left no area inside of you untouched, you’d never felt so full. You looked down your abdomen slightly swollen from the intrusion. Bossk was still other than his claws digging into the sheets with an audible tearing noise. His hips rocked slightly, pressing against every sensitive spot inside you.

Bossk groaned something in Dosh as he almost collapsed on you, his hips pulling back slightly before snapping into you again. You gasped loudly, you could feel yourself clench around him though his cocks didn’t allow for much movement.

“You’re so tight little wife,” he moaned before licking up your neck. “I could cum just like this.”

To emphasize his point he pulled hips back nearly all the way, just leaving the heads inside, before pushing back into you. You gasped again, each movement he made pressed pleasure up your core, the growing pressure of your orgasm coiling tightly in your belly.

He grasps your hips, pushing his flush against yours rocking so that his cocks pressed against the one spot he knew would unravel you quickly. You wrapped your legs around him as he pulls back just slightly before snapping hips back to press into just the right spot, hard. Your thighs shake as you feel the tension from your belly spread heat up your spine and down your legs, another thrust hitting just the right spot caused a shockwave of pleasure to flood your body.

Your pussy clenched around his cocks, Bossk swearing before he shuddered, his own orgasm hitting him as his cum flooding your pussy. As he pulled out you could feel the mixture of your juices drip from you and he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

You dropped your head down to the bed, feeling sore and more than exhausted. Bossk spreads your legs, mindful of pushing you too much as you hiss. He dips his head down, tongue running over your slit, tasting the two of you. You’d normally would have made a smart ass comment but his tongue soothed the sting that the stretch of his cocks left you with and you didn’t want him to stop.

He moved again to rest his head on your stomach the rest of his body still resting between your legs. You reached down stroking his face, earning a sleepy but content sounding grumble from your husband.

“You did good little wife,” he mumbled, “now go to sleep.”

You shift slightly, centering his head on your stomach before you stretch and close your eyes. Bossk made a quiet clicking noise, a noise you’d heard a few times when he was overly content, it was a welcomed noise as you drifted off to sleep.

#bossk #bossk x reader #bossk x you #star wars imagine #clone wars imagine #star wars smut #clone wars smut #Bossk'wassak'Cradossk

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