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#and I can’t talk to either of them. I can’t understand them talking to each other. it’s isolating.
luveline · 1 day
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i would absolutely love a Hotch and stripper reader, him taking care of her after some kind of incident at her club or something? maybe a bit of angry hotch at the beginning, some angst? 💗💗💗
Your throat burns by the time his car pulls up. 
You take the butt of the cigarette from between your lips and ash it next to the first. Your hand is sore between the index finger and thumb from a bad stretch, aching as you press into your pocket for your stolen box of Marlboro golds. You’ll apologise for taking them some other time. 
You press the third between your lips and flick the lighter. You’re not good at lighting them, worse at the first inhale, your throat an agony that rivals the sting of your battered cheek. 
Shoes on the sidewalk, a scratch of loose gravel. Your eyes well with another line of tears that you work hard to hold in, taking another quick, cruel drag. They don’t make cigarettes long enough, in your opinion. They don’t last. 
He stops in front of you. Quiet, Agent Hotchner looks down at you where you’re sitting on the low wall, expression as steely as ever. You meet his eyes, worried your wobbly lip is giving you away, not sure calling him was the right thing to do after all. 
When he raises his hand to the cigarette you let him take it. His fingers wrap carefully around the butt of it, the side of his thumb brushing your lips. 
He flicks it to the ground and steps on it flat. 
You don’t say hello. It’s obvious you’ll cry, he can tell too, and he doesn’t make you. You wince as he raises his hand again, your eyes squinting closed, but he isn’t going to hurt you. His palm is warm where it cups your cheek, turning your face to the light emanating off of the club neons. 
“Do you know his name?” he asks. 
“No.” 
He raises your chin higher still. His frown turns to a glare, the brunt of which is directed elsewhere but intimidating all the same. His touching is gentle at least. 
“What happened?” 
“I told him no.” 
His jaw ticks. “Can I take you home?” 
You sniffle, turning your face out of his hand and down to your lap. He’s kissed you, he’s done more than that, but he knows you’d felt like you had no choice and so he’s giving it to you now. It’s exactly why you’d called him. It’s the man he is, and he should never have ended up looking after you. 
“Sorry I called you,” you say, hiding your face in one hand. Pain flickers behind your eyes as tears mount for the tenth time tonight. 
Hotch gives a sigh, sitting on the wall beside you. He wraps his arm behind your back and with a familiarity you need desperately. You press yourself into his side, sew your arm hesitantly over his stomach, the starch of a pressed shirt crisp on your clammy skin. 
“It’s cold out here,” he murmurs, bringing both hands to your arm, one to hold you tight, the other to rub your cool skin. 
“I think I want to quit.” 
He nods into the side of your head. “I think you should,” he says, “if that’s what you want… honey, you can do whatever you want.” 
“I don’t think I can. I’m trapped and it’s my fault.” 
“It’s not your fault.” He encourages your head under his, your face to his neck. When he talks, it’s a quiet, lulling promise. “You’re not trapped. I’ll do anything you need me to do. If you want an apartment, I’ll get it for you. If you want to shut this place down, I will. The last thing either of us want is for you to work here when you don’t want to.” 
“You don’t have to say work here like I’m not a glorified prostitute,” you say hotly, anger turned in rather than out. 
“You don’t really think that.”
Being a sex worker is complicated. You don’t know how you feel about it, and you can’t ever understand why Hotch would bother with you. You’d worried at first that your vulnerability is what attracted him, like a kid with a broken bird, but he’s proved a hundred times that your job is pretty much separate from why he likes you. He thinks you're pretty. He loves your voice. You make each other laugh, and somehow inexplicably he’s the first person you call when things go wrong. 
“Quit your job,” he says. “Even if it’s just to dance somewhere else.” 
“You can say strip.”
He nods. “You shouldn’t have to worry whether your ‘no’ will be met with a backhand. You know that breaks my heart?” 
You blink and pull away from him. He isn’t unemotional, but it’s a surprise nonetheless to hear him talk like this. “Aaron–” 
“Please,” he says. “I shouldn’t ask you to. But there are better places for you. You deserve more.” 
If it were anyone else you might get defensive. Only people who do your job could understand why you do it, it’s a hundred different things to you, but you do deserve more. You’re sick of leery men, sick of wolf whistles and bad tips and other people's hands. Hotch has never asked you to stop, but now he is, it’s to keep you safe. 
You can’t begrudge him. 
“I’m sorry,” you say. 
“No.” He rubs your arm. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. And I’ll make it right.” 
“It’s not your fault.” 
“I’ll make it right,” he promises. “No matter what. No one gets to hurt you.” 
You could quit. You want to. Even if it’s just for a couple of weeks, just so you don’t have to pretend you know what you’re doing. You’ll think about it in the morning. “Could I stay with you for a bit?” you whisper. “Just tonight. Please.” 
Hotch taps your back for you to stand. He stands with you, brushing down your coat, his eyes impassive where they look over your face, your purpling bruise. 
“You can wait in the car,” he says quietly. “I’m going to ask a few questions inside before we leave.” 
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mrs-snape5984 · 2 days
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„I hope, I’ll always have you in my mind, so that I know to find you every time.“
„Put your head on my chest, that’s your safe place. We‘ll fall deeper in love every day. From life unto life and for always.“ („Soul Mate“ by Flora Cash)
There’s something in my current life, that came hand in hand with my disease ME/CFS…slowly creeping into my fibres…infecting my mind with sadness. It’s loneliness, that I’m talking about. Overwhelming, crushing, suffocating loneliness.
Before this cruel bitch of a disease put a stopper in my life, as I knew it from before, I haven’t been healthy, either. But neither my severe Colitis Ulcerosa, nor the other few sicknesses and disabilities had achieved to break me the way, ME/CFS broke me!
What’s left, is only a shell of myself…a sad shadow of the woman, I’ve been prior to today. Where did the intelligent, sassy, witty and caring person go to, when she disappeared so insidiously from my personality? On some days, I still get a little glimpse of her, when I’m talking to my beloved friends @vulnus-sanare, @preciousthelmadonna or my bestie Miri, who often just “enjoys” sitting beside me in my dark room…embraced by silence and darkness. These tiny jiffies, when I’m recognising my previous character…my true nature, even though it’s only for a brief time, I’m feeling a little less anxious…a little less worthless.
But sadly, these moments become more rare with each new PEM crash of my disease (PEM = Post-exertional malaise = worsening of symptoms after certain activities). It feels as if I’m fading away from life…I’m fading away from other people’s lives as well as from my own.
Since I can’t leave my dark room - and most of the time even my bed - I’m not capable of joining social gatherings anymore. It’s impossible for me to endure listening to more than one person at once, so even my three kids have to “visit” me one after the other in my chamber. There are days, when I can’t even reply to messages from others, just because screen time is killing me.
All the more, I’m grateful for these few friends, who stay with me, no matter how silent I am, because they make me feel worthier and loved. And yet, I’m afraid of not being able to give them the same amount of support in return…due to the restrictions of my cruel reality, which are confining me.
So, there are many days, which I’m spending in total gloominess and silence with nothing but solitude surrounding me. And even if I’d be capable of sending text or audio messages (since I can’t type them out properly sometimes), I often hold myself back from reaching out to these understanding friends…only because I don’t want to be a burden to them.
I commissioned the lovely artist @hannisimp for this beautiful piece of art. Lin, you gave me exactly, what I needed with this tender artwork of yours. You gave me the feeling of being less alone. Severus accompanies me for 21 years now. He’s the safe haven, the comfort blanket, which I’m clinging to so desperately! My dear, I can’t stress enough, how grateful I am for your fine art. You made the love and the trust between Severus and my - oh, so self-inserted - OC Jules become palpable. There are no words to express my gratitude, so I just stay with these: Thank you for everything, my friend! Thank you for your talent, your kindness and each of your messages. I won’t ever take these things for granted.
🖤Severus & Julia🖤
🖤Sevy & Jules🖤
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lost-inthe-v0id · 1 day
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Young Snape x Reader prompt/idea? Idk
I can’t really right so this is a scenario I made up that I just word vomited
I’ve always had a crush on snapes young actor since I was like 8 so this is js something I made up when I would daydream
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Student!Reader is a ravenclaw pure blood with no strong opinions on wizards/witches with no magic parents and a lot of ravenclaw and slytherin friends
Student!Reader and Student!Snape meet on the train and click right away but don’t hang out at school as much because Lily told Snape she didn’t like reader. They’re still acquaintances until that changes due to Lily getting closer to James and Severus getting a class with Reader. Little by little they slowly start getting closer together.
Reader would like to spend more time with him but he feels a responsibility to stay with Lily all the time since she was the only one who cared to stick around with him. Reader doesn’t like the way Lily treats him and the fact she’s all buddy buddy with his bullies
Finally it’s all solidified when Severus and Lily have an argument their 4th or 5th and he calls her a mudblood. Lily starts to ignore Severus not only everytime he goes to apologize but anytime he comes near her at all. She starts to stand by and just watch James and his gang bully Snape and sometimes laughs.
Reader finds Severus crying and comforts him. Gives him a pep talk about how wonderful he is and how people make mistakes and no one deserves to be treated like he is. Finally after that they start hanging out everyday. Severus becomes good friends with Readers friends but they still usually only hang out with each other.
Reader tells people in Ravenclaw and slytherine how Lily treated Severus and people stopped talking to her, gossiping about her even. Since Reader is a pure blood that’s part of an affluent family she grew up around other affluent family kids. Overall reader was not only friends with higher influence kids but also very respected among them due to her kind and understanding nature. So a lot of these people started to look down on Lily.
Finally it all comes together when Snape and Reader are near a tree talking one day when he starts telling Reader how much he doesn’t deserve her and kind of confessing and rambling when Reader kisses him. After that they start dating, the don’t try to hide it either. They hold hands ALL the time, sometimes you find the pair snogging, other times you find Reader laying her head on his shoulder.
Lily doesn’t like this, she liked the fact Severus liked her and the attention she would get from him on top of that people she use to talk to won’t even look at her now. She tries to talk to him saying she’s ready to hear him out but by then Severus couldn’t really give a shit.
Idrk about the rest
I know not a lot of people like Snape like that so I’m just posting this for myself not really expecting anyone to see this lol
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floral-hex · 10 months
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I’m fucking disabled
#I had this conversation with my therapist last week. I’ll give you the secret HIPAA breaking rundown#I HATE calling myself disabled#I don’t know why. there’s no shame in it. it’s just ya know it’s just what I am#but I still can’t get it into my head that yes I’m kinda fucking disabled#because here I am sitting on this creaky futon unable to understand anything anyone is saying to me bc my hearing is so bad#it’s a bad hearing day! it happens! some days are good! today is very much not so good!#so I told my therapist I’m way cool with telling people I have mental health issues#but when it comes to hearing it’s ‘oh no I’m not REALLY disabled. I just uhhhhh can’t uhhh fuckin hear sometimes 🤷🏻‍♂️ that’s normal right?’#and he’s like no my sweet boy you are disabled you need to own that shit#okay… he didn’t say it like that but this is my flashback please let me have this#let me be a sweetie boy in my own mind#he said it’s usually the reverse: people don’t like to admit mental health issues but will mention physical disabilities#I just… I spent 30 something years with great hearing and then it all just got taken from me out of the blue and no one knows why#and I hate that. I’m so angry. I’m so fucking angry and scared and alone#and I hate admitting that yes I am disabled. like really disabled. it feels like defeat.#and it shouldn’t. like I said it’s just kinda what I am now. It’s like saying I breathe or I’m allergic to birds. it just is me.#sorry I’m just having a rough day#I got about an hour of sleep and now I’m holding down the fort while a home inspector and the new buyer look through the house#and I can’t talk to either of them. I can’t understand them talking to each other. it’s isolating.#I have therapy later and I’m hoping I’ll be able to communicate and hear during it. I really just need someone to talk to#I miss talking to people in person. I can still do that it just can take a bit of work and I hate subjecting people to putting up with me#I feel so needy. I just want some human connection. I want to know I can still make this work.#gosh this is whiny. sorry about that. just needed a quick vent to get me through the next few hours#anyway I love you. probably. maybe… ehhh#you can ignore this#text
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ms-demeanor · 3 days
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You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?
This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.
Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.
I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.
I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?
I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."
For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.
(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )
But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.
There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?
Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.
If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.
(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)
Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.
For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:
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That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)
Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.
Talk about this shit
Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.
Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."
Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.
Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.
Reduce friction for cleaning
Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:
Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.
Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)
Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).
This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:
Create Dump Zones
One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.
We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.
HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.
A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.
Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."
I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.
AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:
Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)
Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.
Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.
To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.
Landing Zones
Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.
To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.
I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.
Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.
Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.
Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).
People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.
If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.
It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.
It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?
IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?
anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.
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6gumi · 9 months
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breathless.
synopsis ﹒jjk men giving you surprise kisses gone wrong (GONE SEXUAL!) that’s it. that’s the fic
pairings ﹒toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, yuuji itadori, satoru gojo x f!reader
cw ﹒a little suggestive. not proofread (oops), makeout sessions kinda?, yuuji + yuuta aged up! slight vaginal fingering involved, dirty talk, petnames used ! (princess, baby, etc etc) you guys literally just make out n it goes wrong . . . do i need to say more ? <3
note ﹒sm thoughts sm thoughts sm thoughts !!! yuuji’s is the only fluff n innocent one LMFAO feel free 2 interact w me by sending an ask ! i’m still trying 2 finish up my requests so please be patient and know that only thirsts r open for now <3 — millie ! ♡
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୨୧ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
toji always loved teasing you, especially during makeout sessions you both would have occasionally. he does a lot and i mean a lot of things to tease you during them too, it’s unfair! he loved it whenever you had your arms crossed infront of him, eyebrows furrowed while you lectured him for his laziness. he merely just chuckled at your attempts to tell him off for being such a lazy jerk, slowly closing the distance between both of you. you can’t blame him, can you? it’s not like you wanted him to stop either.. it’s crazy how your voice and that irritated look in your eyes left him feeling light-headed. before he knew it, toji you in his arms, holding you just a little too tight. “hey! let go of me, toji. ‘m not finished saying what i wanna say—“ and.. there he goes again. a deep groan left him as his lips traced each inch of your neck, his entire body clenched as he grabbed your wrist. toji’s other hand buried itself in your hair, caressing and pulling at it from the back, interlocking his lips with yours..
god.. your makeout sessions always begin this way, but honestly you didn’t really complain. toji ran his hand up your body, wrapping it around your neck as she squeezed it lightly.. careful not to hurt you too much. his lips on yours was the sweetest torture you had ever felt in your whole life, your heart pounding against your chest at a furious pace as he held you closer to him, not letting go of you anytime soon. “sorry, doll. what’d ya say earlier? too busy kissin’ these pretty lips of yours.” “oh great, and you weren’t even listening too?” the raven just shrugged, a smug expression painted on his face. “dunno, just wanted t’kiss your lips, you talk too much princess.. needed to shut you up.” gosh, you could’ve sworn you felt a vein popping out of your forehead out of frustration, is this guy for real? “mm.. can i continue kissing your lips?” was all he said, a low sigh leaving your lips before you waited for him to kiss you again. “oh no baby, not these lips. i mean the other ones.” oh yeah, expect yourself to be breathless after this.. kisses or not!
୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐔
yuuta can’t help it! he couldn’t help but admire you the whole time you rambled about a weird first interaction you had with his companion toge inumaki and how hard it was to understand him! thank the lord you didn’t even notice just how intensely his eyes stared at you, as if they were digging daggers into your soul. this is probably a constant thing for him, i feel like yuuta likes giving you shy surprise kisses out of nowhere! and sometimes, he can’t even control his body and they just smooooch your lips, atleast.. that’s what he says! he can’t help but grin every single time he sees that flustered expression on your face after he catches you off guard with his surprise kisses, he’s just trying to have after all. though sometimes he’s aware that, these “small yet shy surprise kisses” will turn into much more than what they seem. and you wanna know what they turn into? heated makeout sessions of course!
yuuta’s large hands rest on the nape of your neck, the other on your waist as he pushes you down the mattress with his weight, trying his best not to crush you completely with his body as his kisses were slow.. slow and passionate yet you knew that was gonna change in a few minutes or so, and you were right! in the blink of an eye, yuuta wraps his two hands beneath your thighs, lifting you up slightly so your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling the both of you closer and into a more passionate yet lustful embrace and kiss. the special grade sorcerer pulled away, chuckling when you puckered your lips a tiiny bit to taste his sweet lips on yours again, yuuta gave your jaw a small peck. “may i?..” the raven muttered under his breath.. lifting your skirt and tugging at the hem of your panties. just know that.. if you nod and say yes, oh boy. be prepared to stay up all night! those surprise kisses were a trap to kiss you until you were breathless!
୨୧ 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
let’s see here.. to sum things up, yuuji loves giving you surprises kisses! and i mean loves it! he likes catching you off guard whenever he presses a kiss against you, your boyfriend gives you small little surprise kisses literally anywhere and everywhere, so much that you even have to tell him to tone down a bit because of how flustered you were! “but why, babe? i like kissing you..” he knew you liked it whenever he was affectionate so he would plant many many love kisses all over you nonstop! usually sometimes he even just gives you one when it’s unnecessary or so, kissing you on the cheek while you scroll on your phone.. kissing the nape of your neck from behind whenever you were in the kitchen, sneakily kissing your inner thigh from beneath the bedsheets, you name it! yuuji yawned as he wrapped an arm around your waist, scooting you even closer against him. “babe, can i kiss you?” no answer, you were too focused on that stupid movie you wanted to watch, he didn’t think you’d get this invested. the male gently put a hand on your thigh, surprise-kissing the blade of your shoulder with much desire and love.
anndd.. here you both go again.. on the couch as the room was filled with sharp heavy panting and lewd noises. yuuji’s hands grabbed onto your waist and moved you back and forth on his gap, feeling a bulge press against you as your cunt pulsed around nothing.. you prayed he didn’t feel anything. you always wondered how he’s so sweet and delicate with your kisses as if you were some kind of gentle flower you needed to protect, his touches were so soft.. so gentle and yet a little hesitant.. not wanting to hurt you in anyway. his mouth moved towards your jaw and then your hands. “you should kiss me more babe, i like how soft your lips feel on mine.” “i already allow you to give me surprises kisses in private and public, what more do you need, hm?” “.. another kiss, maybe? or maybe.. more kisses? more than the amount i give you in one day?” ahh.. you know you can’t say no to him, you knew just how much he wanted to kiss you breathless.
୨୧ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
surprise kisses with him are a must (atleast 2 him!) he loves sneaking small little pecks on your cheek and lips, though.. his surprise kisses are rather bold and lead to more intimate moments between the both of you. heated and long messy makeout sessions to more.. bolder ones, though you aren’t complaining really, he isn’t either.. in-fact he loves the faces you make whenever he plunges his tongue inside your mouth with no warning at all, grabbing at your ass.. your waist, you name it! scolding him about his “surprise” kisses won’t help either, he just knows how to rile you up in no time! the special grade groaned into the kiss as he pulled you onto his lap, grabbing your hips and squeezing at it with his hands. satoru sighs lowly, struggling against the heat and lust that was now flowing through his body like hot lava, he wanted more and he craved more.. he didn’t even care that it was supposed to be a “small” surprise kiss, he wanted you and he wanted you now. you sure do have that effect on him.
“you’re such a cute little angel for me, mhm? stay still for me a bit, yeah?” oh you knew what he was gonna do. you hear him spit on the top of his fingers for a second, body jolting as you felt his fingers rubbing your clit. “i’m sorry. i can’t get enough of you. look at this, you’re so wet already, angel. all this for me? all because of the kissing, hm?” he rubbed the slit of your pussy with two fingers at a harsher pace.. feeling your wetness on his fingers. “c’mon, keep kissing me pretty. don’t let these fingers distract you, yeah?” was all he said before the sweetness of his lips returned on your own, his kisses were sloppy and messy but yet he didn’t show any signs of stopping anytime soon.. his digits curling in your cunt, forcing a muffled moan from your lips. adding another finger in, he could feel how tight his pants felt.. getting all hard just from fingering you and kissing you alone was crazy enough, he wasn’t playing around.. he wanted more.. and he’ll get more. satoru will do this over and over again until you’re absolutely breathless.
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lemonlover1110 · 2 months
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𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃
Choso
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Pairing: Bass Guitarist!Choso x f!Reader
Summary: You usually hang out with Choso after his concerts, only this time he wants to talk about your relationship. Luckily for you, you know how to distract him from important matters.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Friends with Benefits, Car Sex, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Squirting, Creampie, Angst if you squint
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
This art was sent in my server and I was forced to write about him in this AU, anyway I hope you lovelies enjoy!! likes and reblog always appreciated❤️
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There’s a whole crowd that screams Choso’s name from the top of their lungs as his fingers strum against the strings of his bass. Choso, a very reserved man, someone who is not even the star of the band but the most beloved amongst fans. Is it because they barely know anything about him? Or is it because he looks too hot while he really gets into the song? For you, it’s the latter. 
Choso lets himself loose as his mind, body and soul embrace the song. It becomes an issue for him to stay close to the microphone, until he realizes his vocals come up. He’s sweaty, his eyeshadow smudged and running down his cheeks; it’s a look that drives the fangirls wild, and you can’t exactly blame them for it.
They get louder when they hear Choso’s voice, and you wonder if it drives Suguru insane that even though he’s the lead vocalist, he doesn’t get as much attention as Choso. There’s just something about Choso that has everyone in a trance. He looks so seductive even when he barely tries.
The song ends, and the crowd cheers, wanting more from the band. For a moment the only thing you hear is the crowd chanting Choso’s name. You don’t understand why they go wild over him, but then again, you guess that the lack of knowledge about him makes him intriguing. However, you know all you need to know about him. 
“I really don’t get why they go so crazy over him! I’d argue that Getou is hotter.” You yell to your friend, and she rolls her eyes. She knows you’re just talking to talk because given the option, you always choose Choso.
The noise dies as the sound of the bass begins again. All eyes are on Choso until Suguru begins to sing. Your eyes stay on Choso, and his eyes scan the crowd until they land on you. A smile comes onto his face as you maintain eye contact. His eyes finally look away, looking down at his guitar. You know you’ll be seeing each other later.
Just to tease you, he does something that he rarely does. Something that makes the crowd get louder, his tongue running up the neck of his guitar. You roll your eyes as your cheeks get hot. You fucking hate him. 
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You have no issue getting backstage after the show. The security guard looks at your friend funny, but he knows you so he assumes that she’s okay to pass. He doubts that anyone will have a problem since you’re beloved among the band members.
“Hi, Lexi.” You wave at the woman who talks with her boyfriend. Suguru’s arm is thrown over her shoulders while they head to the door that you just walked through. She waves at you, blowing a kiss your way before focusing on her boyfriend again. 
“Where’s Gojo?” Your friend asks, her eyes searching for the white haired man, after all, she joined you just because she knew you could get her the opportunity to talk to Satoru. You were going to come either way since Choso sent you a message, it didn’t hurt for her to tag along. 
You’re about to help her, but your eyes land on Choso. There’s a subtle smile on his face when he notices you. He walks toward you, and you completely ignore your friend as she continues asking about Satoru. She rolls her eyes, knowing damn well that you were acting tough and annoyed as everyone chanted Choso’s name because according to you he isn’t a big deal. It’s clear jealousy.
From what she knows, you and Choso have an unusual friendship– Which is another way of saying that you’re friends with benefits. You both came to an agreement where you could use each other’s bodies with no strings attached, however, tonight it might all come to an end. Whether you like it or not. 
“I’m glad to see you here.” Choso says as you give him a side hug. You don’t like to get too touchy while others are around. He still kisses the top of your head, before he looks at your friend. “Who did you bring with you tonight?”
“Just my friend. She wants to meet Gojo.” You tell him, as his fingers intertwine with yours. Choso calls out for Satoru, hoping that the sooner your friend meets Satoru, the sooner you’ll get out of the place. Although getting out of the place so soon isn’t the best idea since there’s still an army of fans outside that will do just about anything to get a picture with Choso. 
The band’s popularity has increased over the past couple of months, and suddenly Choso always has someone throwing themselves at him. It ticks you off more than you’d like to admit. 
“What?” Satoru asks, clear annoyance in his voice. He notices you and he begins to approach you to give you a hug, but it earns a glare from Choso. All the members know you well and they consider you a good friend, which means they all know your situation with Choso. When Satoru notices the look, he sticks with a simple greeting. “Hey.”
“Hi, Gojo.” You smile at him. You then point to your friend, informing him, “She’s here to meet you.”
“Are you her ride home?” Choso questions, and you shake your head in response. She brought you here knowing that you would go your separate ways after the concert. She saw the message that Choso had left on your phone, and she urged you to come. “Does that mean we can leave?”
“I think so.�� You answer. You still check to see if she’s okay being left alone with Satoru before leaving. When she says yes, you lead Choso out of the building. Your eyes stare at the case of his guitar and you ask, “Do you need help? I’m really strong, just so you know.”
He laughs, “No doubt about it, but I can handle it.”
“You’re in a hurry.” Choso comments when you step outside. He takes the lead, dragging you to his car. 
“Weren’t you the one that was asking if we could leave?” You chuckle, and he laughs as well. He opens the trunk to put the case in before walking to the passenger door and opening it for you. He watches you get inside before he shuts the door for you. He nearly runs to the driver’s side, embarrassingly impatient.
“Do you want to join Lexi and Suguru tonight? Or what do you want to do?” Choso isn’t exactly the person to go hang out with his friends after a concert, especially at a bar. But he knows that you like that sort of stuff, so he sticks with you until you’re ready to go back home– Or back to his apartment, whichever place is closest to the place you’re hanging out in.
“Can we just go back to your place?” You respond, your eyes focused on his side profile. You were too jealous earlier to admire just how good he looks tonight.
“Can we talk about–” He begins, but you grab the collar of his shirt and put your lips on his before he can finish his sentence. You know he wants to talk about the message that he sent, something that made you want to stay home tonight. Can we talk about us? Or something along those lines, you just know that you don’t want to change this perfect arrangement.
Your tongue enters his mouth, pressing against his while your hands go to his belt. He doesn’t know why you’re so eager tonight, it doesn’t click in his head. Maybe the little trick from earlier worked to rile you up, and he’s certain that it was that when you unbutton his pants and begin to pull them down. 
“Here? Aren’t you scared–” He begins when you pull away from the kiss but you begin to kiss his neck. Your lips go to that one sweet spot that makes him weak, sucking on it. You aren’t scared that you’ll get caught, that’s good to know. He’s the one that should be worried about getting caught since he’s the one that has to hold a public image. 
The parking lot is private, and it’s pretty much empty. He isn’t too worried about that. 
“Don’t you want to go somewhere more private?” He still asks but he doesn’t bother to stop you as you spit on his cock, your hand wrapping around the base and slowly stroking it. 
“We can talk later. Right now, I need your cock in my mouth.” You kiss his shaft before your tongue drags on his length and begins to circle on his tip. You begin to kiss the tip, causing Choso to bite down his lip. He’s certainly not going to stop now.
Your mouth wraps around his cock, hearing the moan whimper just at the feeling of your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick. Everything you do drives him wild. It’s why he can’t stop you when he wants to talk about more serious issues– Issues that concern your relationship and what you’re doing. 
He doesn’t like it like this though. He loves the sight of your pretty face as your mouth is wrapped around his cock. He still loves the feeling though. He praises you, “You’re doing so good, baby.” 
You take all of him in your mouth, gagging on his length which causes the tears to build up in your eyes. It’s a sight that usually drives the man wild, although he doesn’t like to admit it; unluckily for him, he only sees the back of your head. 
His head is thrown back as his eyes roll to the back of his head. You have complete control over him, and he hates it. But he certainly loves the way he feels at the moment. When the tears fall from your eyes, you lift up your head, detaching yourself from his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his cock.
“Can we do it here?” You ask him as your thighs rub against one another, the heat between your legs getting too unbearable. Your libido is too high, you can’t wait to go back to his place. You need him now.
Choso’s cheeks are flushed, and the man’s brain goes a thousand miles per minute. What you’re thinking of is riskier, and if anyone walks by, you’ll get caught. But he doesn’t care. He needs you too. 
“Yeah, let’s do it here.” He agrees, and you crawl over to his side. You lift up your skirt, moving your panties to the side. Two of his fingers run through your folds, noting just how wet you are when he’s done nothing to you. The mere thought of him drives you insane.
You align his cock with your entrance before slowly sitting on it. His lips land on yours, feeling your moans vibrate through your tongue as you move on his cock. 
You move back and forth on his cock. You feel euphoric as his cock repeatedly hits your g-spot. 
Choso pulls away, grabbing the back of your neck to pull your face away. He needs to admire your beautiful face, taking in every single detail about it. You look so alluring with your messed up makeup. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, and he gets a sense of satisfaction knowing that he caused it. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moans, his nose burying in the crook of your neck. He takes in your scent, getting more intoxicated by you. You’re controlling all of his thoughts lately, even though you’re not even trying.
“You’re so big.” You say, your back arching as Choso begins to thrust his hips instead of leaving it to you to handle it all. Your hand goes down to play with your clit, giving you more stimulation so your high approaches sooner. The faster you finish, the faster you can go again. “Oh– Choso!”
“Fuck–” He can’t help but curse. He’s getting so lost inside of you. In more ways than one. 
His hand pulls down your tank top, and the man gets upset at the bra that gets in the way of what he wants. He pulls down the cups of your bra so his tongue circles around your nipples. He greedily kisses and licks before his mouth finally wraps around one of your tits. 
His other hand begins to toy with the nipple that isn’t in his mouth, teasing it and pinching it. All the stimulation makes your brain foggy as your climax begins to get the best of you. You continue to chant his name, getting louder and louder. 
“Oh, fuck!” You yell as you come around his cock. You make a mess all over him, squirting on him. You’d be embarrassed with someone else, but Choso has seen you do so much worse– It helps that you know he absolutely loves it. Choso bites down on your nipple before unlatching.
“You’re such a good girl. Making a mess all over me.” His hands move to your hips, his nails digging into your flesh. 
“You always take me so well.” He’s kissing your neck, his thrusts getting sloppy. His warm cum fills you up not too long after, and you bite down your bottom lip to not moan. You fucking love it when he fills you up, but he rarely does it. He got too caught up in the moment. 
He stays buried inside of you, continuing kissing your neck, going up to your face. He almost whispers, “Can we talk?”
“Your dick is buried inside of me, might as well.” You chuckle, and he awkwardly returns the gesture. His soft eyes look into yours, and the look tells you all you need to know. You were suspecting it since lately Choso has been more… Romantic than what you had agreed upon. Getting flowers weekly isn’t what your friend is supposed to do.
“I want you.” He can’t put it any other way. Choso’s written what feels like hundreds of songs but he can’t find the right words to express himself. You don’t want to have this conversation now, or any time soon for that matter.
You take advantage of his indistinct way of expressing himself. It's not that you don't want him the same way, it's just easier to keep what you have going on. Choso is getting too big so fast, you don't want to start something that'll end up badly. Which is simply ironic.
You reach to the side of the seat, reclining the seat, pushing his back down. Your lips go to his ear, whispering, “You have me.”
It’s not the way he means it, not one bit. But he’ll take it until he can express himself properly.
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satoruhour · 10 months
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toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃‍♀️
PAYBACK
a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!
wc: 2.1k
warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut
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there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn. 
and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.
it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.
it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.
the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.
with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—
“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.
“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.
you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”
bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.
and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.
“use your words, sweetheart.”
“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.
you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”
“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”
toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.
toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.
but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”
you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.
“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”
“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”
“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.
“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.
“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.
“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”
“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”
by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.
“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck. 
“that’s— okay,” you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”
and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”
you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.
“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.
your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.
your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.
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thirsts and drabble requests are open!
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hazbinwhoree · 3 months
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BRO?$!&?& OAAA I SAW YOU WERE OPEN TO ADAM REQUESTS AND OHHH. MY SNAP.
i am in desperate need. of adam smut.
NOW, WOULD IT BE OKAY FOR ME TO ASK FOR ADAM SMUT WITH A SUBMISSIVE FEMALE SINNER READER WHO IS:
usually shy nervous as fuck but absolutely watches him when he thinks he isn't looking
likes to compliment him in general (at the most random times too, despite the dickmaster being the FUCKING WORST, and she would get that but he IS kinda fine so)
touch-starved, incredibly easy to fluster and tease (bro has a thing for his voices and looks too, one word or look and she'd be on her knees)
pretty insecure in general (and is a sucker for being praised in bed)
I'd also specifically like to hear what he would say to the reader ESPECIALLY THAT IDFK AAA GO CRAZY
Adam’s Sinner
Part 1/3 Part 2
A/N: I was so fucking happy to get a request you don’t even understand. Anyway here it is, I hope I did it justice and you enjoy it!
Warnings: Smut
Adam had been aware of (Name) for about ten years. They met during the extermination, Adam cornering her in an alley. Something compelled him to spare her, and yes he realized what a hypocrite that made him. Poor Vaggie. “Fucking run, bitch.” She bolted. Adam looked around to make sure no one had seen.
The next year, Adam noticed (Name) watching him, hiding behind corners and in shadows. She did this during every extermination for about five years before Adam decided during one extermination to confront her.
(Name) peered around the corner of the dark alley she was hiding in, watching Adam kill a fellow sinner. It should disgust her, but ever since he spared her life she had a strange sort of attraction towards him. Adam looked up and (Name) ducked back behind the wall. When she peered out again, Adam was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s up, sugar tits?”
(Name) yelped, jumping when Adam appeared behind her. He put his hands on the wall on either side of her head, effectively caging her in. (Name) could feel her face heating up. Adam seemed to find it amusing. “Flustered?” (Name) swallowed.
“You know I’ve seen you watching me for the last few exterminations. What’s up with that, hm?”
(Name) had no answer.
“What’s your name?” Adam asked.
“(Name),” she answered quietly. Adam had to bend down to hear her. His proximity made her blush worse, and he snickered. “I think I figured out why. No surprise really, of course you’d want a piece of the first man in existence. I’m the fucking Dickmaster.”
He let her go shortly after their exchange, but confronted her again the next year. As years passed, Adam would spare thirty minutes every extermination to talk to (Name). He found himself becoming fond of the sinner. Her story of how she ended up in hell was interesting, and it definitely helped that she stroked his ego with compliments.
Adam found himself looking forward to seeing (Name) even more than he looked forward to the exterminations. He was grateful Lute hadn’t caught on.
A few years later, and Adam noticed (Name) wasn’t following him as she normally would. So he sought her out. She’d told him a few years ago where she lived, so that was the first place Adam checked. Sure enough, he found her there.
“Sup.”
(Name) jumped. “Adam!”
“What the fuck, babe, not interested in seeing me this year?” Adam placed his hand over his heart in mock hurt, although while he’d never admit it, it actually did hurt him.
“We can’t see each other anymore,” (Name) announced, looking away.
“Bitch why?”
“Because one of these days we’re going to get caught. I know what happened to Vaggie. What would happen if the exterminators found out their leader was socializing with a sinner?”
“You’re not like the other sinners,” Adam argued. “I’d show them that.”
“How?”
Adam was quiet.
“Exactly. And to be honest, I can’t take the emotional torture anymore.”
“The fuck are you on about, ‘emotional torture’? Come on babe-”
“Adam no. I can’t let myself get any closer to you. We only see each other once a year and I got attached, and dealing with only seeing you once a year has gotten too painful.”
Adam was rather taken aback by the confession. He felt the same way but had been gaslighting himself to believe he didn’t. For once in his life, Adam couldn’t find anything to say. He decided the best course was the course of action rather than talking.
He leaned down and abruptly pressed his lips to (Name)’s. Her eyes widened and her body stiffened. When Adam received no response on her end, he pulled back, worried he’d fucked up. She stared up at him with this look on her face that Adam couldn’t place. He didn’t know if it was positive or negative.
“Again,” she finally spoke in a small voice. A smirk stretched across Adam’s face, and he bent down once more to press his lips to hers. She kissed him back this time, almost desperately, and Adam’s arms wrapped around her waist. She shuddered and he pulled back.
“Are you okay?” No teasing or cursing.
“Yeah I just… I haven’t had anyone touch me like this in a long time.”
Adam couldn’t say the same, but this was the first time in a long time emotions had been involved. He kissed her again and snuck his tongue into her mouth as she kissed back. “I want to fuck you,” Adam mumbled against her lips. “Okay.”
Adam pushed her down on her bed, crawling on top of her. He reconnected their lips and slid a hand under her shirt. “Damn,” he commented when his wandering hand reached her chest. “Nice rack.” (Name) rolled her eyes. Adam began kissing down her neck, sucking and biting to leave his mark. (Name) moaned and grabbed onto his horns.
Adam pulled back to shed his robe, and (Name) yanked her shirt over her head. Now that Adam actually had eyes on her chest, he stared for a moment. “So pretty~” he cooed. (Name) blushed and swallowed.
“Oh~” Adam realized. “You like that, don’t you? You like being praised?”
(Name) looked away. Adam grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, babe, it’s cute.” He returned to her neck, kissing down and down, her shoulder, her collarbone. Then he slid down slightly to press his face between her breasts. He laid more kisses on her chest before taking a nipple into his mouth.
Sensitive, (Name) arched her back and whimpered. “I like that noise,” Adam said, moving to the other breast. “Make it again.” He sucked and she whimpered.
Adam was aware he had a short window of time to make this work, so he pulled back and pulled down (Name)’s pants and panties in one swift motion. (Name) got embarrassed being so exposed, so Adam quickly shed his own pants and boxers to level the playing field.
He noticed (Name) staring at his dick and smirked. He took it in his hand, pumping it a few times for show. “You like what you see, baby? Of course you do. Can’t beat the original dick.”
He crawled on top of her again, nudging her thighs apart with his knee to settle between them. He reconnected their lips while his hand traveled down to the place she wanted it the most. “So wet for me, good girl,” Adam teased. Flustered, (Name) shut him up with another kiss.
They made out while Adam experimentally slid one slender finger into her. Met with no resistance, he added another one, and began languidly pumping them in and out. (Name) was shaking. Eager to hurry this along, Adam added another finger. Three stretched her out and she moaned against his lips at the sensation. It made Adam’s dick throb.
He fingered her, with his thumb circling her clit, until he decided she was well enough prepared, pulling his hand away. (Name) whined at the loss but was quickly shut up by Adam grabbing her legs and throwing them over his shoulders. She gasped. Adam lined himself up with her entrance and sunk in slowly, giving her time to adjust. She squirmed, his girth proving to be a little painful to take.
Adam reached between them to give her clit attention, and that loosened her up right away. He bottomed out with a groan, closing his eyes. “Fuck, babe, you’re so tight.” Adam kissed her again, basically bending her in half as he began thrusting. He swallowed her whimpers and moans while his pace picked up in speed and intensity.
He had tried to be slow and gentle, he really had.
Adam set a brutal pace, and (Name) clawed at his back as he pounded into her. “Fuck, yeah, you’re so good for me, tits. Such a good girl, all mine,” Adam talked as he fucked her, and his every word brought (Name) closer to the edge. “You feel so fucking good.”
Adam’s thrusts were getting sloppy as he neared his own climax. “Cum for me,” he murmured. “Fucking cum for me, baby.” (Name) did, her back arching off the bed, her head thrown back and mouth open in slack pleasure. Her tightening around him pushed Adam over the edge, and he buried himself as deep as he could, cumming inside her.
They both panted, holding onto one another as they came down from their highs. Adam pulled out and rolled off of (Name), collapsing onto the bed next to her. He pulled her into his chest and covered her with one of his wings, nuzzling his face into her hair.
“I’ll find a way to see each other more,” he muttered. “I’ll figure something out.” (Name) buried her face in his chest. “Promise?” Her voice was muffled.
“Promise.”
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moonstruckme · 4 months
Note
“Wow,” Morgan sighs happily, “I don’t know which one of you is more whipped.” 
i'm so obsessed with this line from one of your recent spencer reid works and i would loooove to see more of this dynamic if you're interested in doing it 💗 maybe more moments of them being soft/whipped for each other and the team noticing it? thank youuu!!
Thank you lovely!
cw: mention of kidnapping (more a backdrop than anything)
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 1k words
Spencer really wishes he’d remembered his gloves. The air is biting, fresh powder glistening on the deep green spruces whose boughs stoop under its weight. It’s picturesque, and yet the snowfall couldn’t have come at a worse time. It’s impeded their search party by hours, potentially dooming the kidnapping victim they’re all braving the weather for. Spencer keeps his hands stowed in his coat pockets. 
“Hey.” 
He turns as you and Emily come up behind him. You’re both dressed better than he is, actual winter wear as opposed to the tweed coat he’d worn into the police station that morning. Even so, your cheek and nose are look chilled as you smile at him. You carry a disposable coffee cup in each hand. 
“Hi,” Spencer says, taking the one you extend to him. His numb fingers are grateful for the warmth of it. “I thought you guys were interviewing the uncle?” 
Emily’s shaking her head before he’s finished speaking, mouth pulling in discontent. “That was a dead end. He and his sister have been estranged for years. He doesn’t know anything.” 
A frown tugs at your features as Emily talks but you perk up quickly when you feel your boyfriend’s gaze. “We figured we’d be more helpful here,” you say brightly, “and also that you might want some liquid reinforcement.” 
“Thanks.” He does a little toast with his disposable cup and regrets it immediately, but thankfully you smile. Spencer isn’t sure how he got so lucky; it seems like he can get away with any number of weird things and you’ll find them endearing every time. “There hasn’t been much progress here either. If they left any sort of tracks, the snow covered it up. I’m not…” he lowers his voice, angling his head away from the others in his group. “I’m not sure we’ll find her alive in this.” 
“We’ve still got eight hours,” Emily points out. 
She’s right, he tells himself. There are eight hours left in the forty-eight hour window. But that’s also just a statistic. And as someone whose brain is packed full of statistics, Spencer knows that they’re not always reflective of reality. The eight hours his team has left might be more for hope than anything else. 
Emily drifts ahead of you in the group and you bump your shoulder lightly into his, forcibly derailing his train of thought. He looks over at you. Your lips are tipped up, just a little. Not faking anything, but understanding, a quiet promise that regardless of how today turns out, you’ll be in it together. He finds it easier than expected to return your smile. 
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Your hair curtains your face as you look down, unzipping your jacket to dig something out of the interior pocket. “You left your gloves at the station.” 
“Yes.” You laugh at his eagerness as he takes them from you. “I can’t believe I forgot them, thanks so much for bringing them.” 
“Of course, it was no problem.” Your eyes skim the trees. Spencer suspects that if your face weren’t already so pink it’d be coloring now. “I figured you might need them, so.” 
“You were right.” 
Your gaze flits to his as you grin, then falls to where he has his gloves held bunched with his coffee cup. “Oh, do you want me to take that so you can put them on?” 
“That’d be great,” he says, relieved. 
He holds the cup out to you. You reach for it, but when your fingers brush his in the transfer, you gasp, covering his hand with yours. 
“Spence,” you say softly, remonstrance gentled. “Your hands are freezing!” 
“They’re not as bad as they were before. What are you doing?” 
You’ve taken one of his hands in yours and appear to be inspecting it closely. “Checking if your fingernails are blue.” 
“They’re not,” he laughs, though he lets you finish your perusal until you’re satisfied. “I would know if I had frostbite. I’d be able to identify the symptoms early on.” 
“They’re just so cold,” you fret. “I’ve never felt skin that cold before.” 
The tops of his hands are still freezing, but his palms and the pads his fingers have warmed from the coffee cup. “I’m not sure they’re colder than your face,” he says, pressing his free hand to one of your cheeks. 
Unsurprisingly, your skin is cool to the touch, but you smile warmly as you push your cheek into his palm. 
“Okay, you two,” Emily says without turning around, “less fraternizing on the job. 
You straighten immediately. “We were just—”
“Being cute and coupley?” Uncannily, Morgan appears on Spencer’s other side. He has no idea when his nosiest coworker had drifted back from the front of the group. “We know. But could you save it for the hotel later? Even all the sparks flying off you two can’t melt all this snow, and I want to get out of here sometime before dark.” 
Spencer suspects his face is about as red as yours as he looks down to pull on his gloves. Morgan relishes in it, raising an eyebrow at you. 
“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you brought pretty boy here a coffee and not me.” He tsks. “I didn’t expect such blatant favoritism from you, sweetheart. I’m disappointed.” 
“I was carrying yours,” Emily says, her tone conveying an eyeroll so effectively she doesn’t need to follow through with the action. She pushes a disposable coffee cup into Morgan’s chest. 
He doesn’t look one bit sheepish as he takes it, though Spencer notices you trying to repress a grin that’s bordering upon smug. 
“This has lipstick on the lid.” 
Emily shrugs. “I finished mine in the car.” 
“So you started on mine?” 
“I sampled.” 
“You’re lucky I exhibit such blatant favoritism,” you say quietly to Spencer under their bickering. “I finished mine in the car too.” 
He raises his eyebrows, and you shake your empty cup as proof. Spencer takes your hand, wrapping it around his coffee cup. “We’ll share.”
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levshany · 4 months
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about the Mindscape in Tandem AU
I really want to talk about Colibri, but I have to be careful because I can’t spoil too much. spoilers for Tandem are spoilers for "The Dawn". Therefore, I cannot yet explain some moments. But it's fine for the mindscape I guess. After all this is one of the most delicious parts of the story >:3
those of you who have read "At The Dawn Of The Light" know that Philip had the same dream for ten years in a row, where he is small and lives in his old house with Caleb. and Philip convinced himself that this was true reality, and the Boiling Islands were a nightmare
but then Philip, carelessly, without thinking it over, allowed Collie to come to him in his dreams. and at the same time he opened access to his mind, which later ended with Collie possessing Philips body in order to prevent him from “falling asleep forever”
In Mindscape, Collie set himself the following goals: to restore Philip's mind, make him stop considering his dream to be reality and make him want to return to the REAL reality
Both tasks turned out to be much more difficult than Collie thought. First, in Philip's mind he was completely powerless. he cannot in any way influence the surrounding space, and therefore he's not able to simply restore the forest of memories with a snap of his fingers. And secondly, Pip (surprisingly) doesn't want to be dissuaded of the falsity of his little world! No matter what cool logical arguments Collie puts forward, Philip just ignores or parries everything he says! The most offensive thing is that Pip actually understands perfectly well where the dream is and where the reality is, but for some reason he refuses to admit it. And and every time he runs away from answering, either disappearing into thin air in the middle of a conversation, or distracting Collie with something stupid. For example, he snatches his hat and starts a battle over it
Collie thought he could drag the surviving memories from the basement into the forest by hand, but Caleb wouldn’t let him. “How did Caleb end up here?”, those who have not read "The Dawn" will ask. and I will say that this is a part of Philip’s mind that performs a protective function and protects little Pip from unpleasant thoughts and gives advice on how to behave in situations. and the local Caleb regards Collie as a real threat, who with his mere presence breaks the “realness” of their little cozy reality, and even tries to make Pip remember some things that are unpleasant for both of them. each time Caleb caught Collie near the basement and drove him away. the only memory he allowed to return to the forest was Philip's first meeting with Collie
So it turns out that so far Collie can’t figure out how to help Philip. the only thing he can do now is get him out of the Boiling Isles. Replace this “nightmare” with some more pleasant dream, so that Philip is no longer afraid to at least wake up in this reality
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lomlhwa · 2 months
Text
twin bitches (j.yh + c.jh)
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pairing: roommate!yunho x roommate!reader x roommate!jongho
preview: your roommates are so sick and tired of hearing about your lack of sexual activity. so, they fix it for you.
tags/warnings: fem reader, threesome, oral (f+m.receiving), monster cocks for both of them, use of the color system, two cocks in one hole can i get a wahoo, praise, degrading, mean dom jongho + sweet dom yunho, mating press, so much dirty talk, slapping, some voyeurism, hand kink, fingering, breath play, pet names (slut, good girl, whore, our girl, baby, pretty girl), yunho likes to be called yuyu thank you, spanking, vibrator torture, edging, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), a couple creampies
trigger warnings: n/a
wc: 2.6k
song recs for this fic: topia twins by travis scott, soaked by shy smith
a/n: hnnngrggnn
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It's late at night when you finally press your key into your front door. you can hear your roommates yelling at each other. you automatically assume that they're gaming. and you’re right. you find them sitting on opposite sides of the couch, screaming about their game and pounding on the buttons of their controllers. you can’t help but find it at least a little cute.
jongho looks up from the game for a split second to acknowledge you before nudging yunho. “oh y/n! you’re home!” yunho throws his headset off and runs over to you. your big golden retriever roommate loves to hug you when you get home. it’s endearing. you wrap your arms around his waist as he crashes your face into his chest. you can hear jongho press the power button on their console and get up from the couch. 
“how did your date go?” jongho asks with a stoic look on his face. it’s your 3rd date this week. you sigh, your shoulders dropping. you hate admitting that it’s yet another date that’s gone south. “he said he didn't see me as anything more than a friend.” jongho rolls his eyes, scoffing at your response. “that’s such bullshit,” he says, his tone highly unimpressed by your response. “i don’t understand how all of these men are treating you like this.”
you shrug, walking over to the couch where the two of them had originally been sitting. you throw your head back and cross your arms over your chest. your roommates plop themselves down on either side of you, watching to see what your next move will be. “yanno, i’m not even upset about not having a boyfriend,” you admit, turning your head to the left to look at jongho. “then what are you upset about?” yunho asks from the right side of you. the tone of his voice gives you an inkling that he knows what you’re gonna say. you grow a mischievous look on your face before turning to look at him. “i’m upset that i’m not getting fucked. like at all.”
as soon as those words leave your mouth, both your roommates collectively sigh. “what?! it’s a valid complaint!” you exclaim, looking at the both of them in disbelief. you watch as they share a secretive look. confusion spreads across your face. “what the fuck was that?” you ask, wondering what they could be planning. before you can ask anymore questions, jongho throws you over his shoulder. 
“genuinely what is happening right now?” you exclaim, kicking your legs, almost making jongho falter. yunho grabs your ankles tightly, forcing you to stop kicking. “stop being a fucking brat,” yunho demands. you halt every movement so quickly you could’ve sworn your heart stopped too. you can feel heat pooling between your legs at the tone of yunho’s voice. finally, jongho throws you down onto your bed. they both stand above you, arms crossed. they look at each other and then back down at you.
“alright, this is what’s gonna happen since you’re such a whore,” yunho starts. you open your mouth to protest the vulgar name and jongho slaps you straight across the face. “you don’t speak unless spoken to.” you can’t even deny how wet this is making you. yunho gives jongho a smile before continuing. “we’re gonna use you however we see fit and you’re gonna fucking like it.” you squeeze your legs together, your core begging for attention. jongho takes notice of this and forces your knees apart. 
“color?” yunho asks. “very green,” you respond. you almost smile before they both move closer to you and then your face drops. yunho collapses to his knees between your legs and jongho moves towards your upper half. yunho removes your pants so gently, you can barely even tell he’s between your legs. the way he looks up at you, almost desperately, could make you cum on the spot. jongho on the other hand, rips your shirt in half with ease before throwing it somewhere. he grips your jaw, squeezing your face with one hand to force your mouth open. “you’re gonna look so pretty with a face full of cock, baby,” jongho says as he opens his belt with his other free hand. 
you’re so focused on jongho’s words and movements that you had forgotten about where yunho was. that is until you feel his tongue lick a stripe up your thigh. you shoot your eyes in his direction, watching as his mouth inches closer to where you need him most. “she’s so wet, jongho. she’s into this,” yunho says, pulling your underwear off. “i think she really wants us to use her.” you can hear the smirk in his voice. jongho shoves his pants and boxers mid-way down his thighs as he laughs. “of course she is. she’s our little slut,” he says as he shoves his cock down your throat. you gag around him almost immediately, despite only being able to take just under half into your mouth. simultaneously, yunho shoves his face into your core, lapping up the slick that had been leaking out of you. 
the mix of the sensation of your throat being abused and your cunt being cared for so gently sends your brain into a frenzy. you buck your hips up against yunho’s mouth, searching for more intense pleasure. jongho holds your face tightly, making sure you’re watching him while he fucks your mouth. he looks at you with dark, focused eyes, keeping a steady pace in your throat. you feel a loss of heat as yunho pulls away from your core, leaving your throbbing. you wonder where he’s going but you physically can’t look away from jongho. you don’t have to wonder for long when you hear the familiar buzzing of your vibrator. panic sets into your chest, knowing you have no escape. “dirty girl keeping her vibrator in the most obvious place,” yunho says. you can hear him click through the different vibration settings before settling on the basic one. 
jongho pulls out from your mouth before removing his pants and boxers completely. he settles behind you, resting his legs on either side of your waist. yunho gets back down between your legs, running the vibrator up your thigh. “this is gonna feel so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles before pressing it directly to your clit. your hips jolt at the high vibration setting he has on, sending electricty through your veins. you dig your nails into jongho’s thighs, throwing your head back against his shoulder. yunho presses the vibrator into your clit harder, making you borderline stop breathing. your vision becomes fuzzy as your orgasm comes racing towards you like a train. “gonna-” is all you can get out before cumming harder than you probably ever have in your life. yunho never lets the vibrator falter, keeping it pressed on your most sensitive spot.
jongho wraps a strong hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to have you gasping for air. yunho digs his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thigh, watching as you clench around nothing, searching for some distraction from the immense pleasure. “plea-ah-se” you stutter, trying to get words out through jongho’s grip on your airway. “please what, whore?” jongho says against your ear, demanding more words out of you. “need your fingers yuyu,” you plead, your voice cracking. you’re desperate for anything to fill your hole, and yunho knows how much you love his hands. he smiles, obliging to your request. he shoves two fingers knuckles-deep into your sopping cunt. he drills them in an out of you at an unfathomable pace, sending another orgasm crashing into you. your legs tremble at the sensation of everything continuing despite your obvious orgasm.
in fact, yunho adds a third finger and sets the vibrator to the next highest setting. you let out a strangled scream, your nerves lighting themselves on fire. your knees slam together painfully, trapping yunho between your legs. you hear a sinister laugh behind you before your legs are pried apart by a pair of strong hands. you gasp at the sudden rush of air to your lungs and also being splayed open perfectly for your roommates. “please, i can’t do it anymore. it’s too much,” you plead, another orgasm creeping up on you already. “oh, you don’t wanna cum again? okay, baby,” yunho says as he takes his fingers and the vibrator away right before you can cum. you whine, your failed orgasm leaving behind a painful sting. jongho leans forward slightly to kiss your jawline; the sweetest gesture he’s shown so far. while your focus on him, yunho presses the vibrator against you again. your eyes roll into your skull, your previously failure orgasm rushing towards you again. “i’m gonna-” you’re cut off once again by yunho halting all movement. “yuyuuu~,” you whine, your legs begging to close.
“color?” yunho asks once more, placing the now off and very wet vibrator on the floor. through heaving breaths you reply; “yellow.” yunho coos at you, kissing your thighs. “okay, baby. we’ll give you the main event now,” he says as pulls his shirt over his head. jongho slips out from behind you to follow suit. you can’t help but get lost in the sudden lack of body heat. it doesn’t last for long when jongho slots himself between your legs. “i’m gonna get you started, slut. yunho will be all nice, treat your pussy with respect and let you cum, but i won’t. i can’t even be bothered to wear a condom while fucking you.” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off by shoving his cock completely inside your hole. his length is impressive as it is but the girth is what has your eyes crossing. the stretch stings and it takes over your senses for at least 10 seconds before you come to. 
jongho starts thrusting into you at an almost inhuman pace, loud skin-slapping sounds filling the room. you can’t help but wonder where yunho has run off to. your eyes search the room before finding him sitting on your computer chair, pumping himself while he watches jongho fuck you. your eyes trail down to his cock and you can almost swear your eyes fall out of your head. is it even humanly possible for it to be that long? you can’t wonder for long when you feel another sharp slap come across your face. “look at me, you whore. i know you’re our girl but i’m the one balls deep inside you right now.” your eyes dart back to him, making fierce eye contact. his black hair is sticking to his forehead as he looks down between you. he watches as his cock appears and disappears inside you. “ah fuck, g-gonna cum jongho,” you grip his forearm and wrap your legs around his waist. “i don’t fucking think so,” he says as he pulls out of you, ripping yet another orgasm away from you.
yunho tuts as jongho pulls away from you. “you’re treating her so unfairly. we’ve taken 2 orgasms from her already.” yunho looks at you with such pity that you could almost cry. jongho looks at you like you’re nothing more than a talkative sex doll. “she’s so tight, yunho. i don’t know if she can take both of us at once.” your eyes dart between them, hearing them talk about you taking both at once. “both? what are you talking about? in one hole?” you ramble. they both collectively laugh at your visible panic. “of course. you wanna cum, it has to be on our cocks. that’s your only option, pretty girl,” yunho says to you, followed by the sweetest golden retriever smile. you clench around nothing at the stark contrast between his words and his smile. 
“i can do it!” you cry out, crawling towards them. you grab their arms and look at them with eyes full of desperation. “at least let me try.” yunho caresses the top of your head, making kissy faces at you. “of course you can try. you’re such a good girl, i’m sure you can do it,” he encourages you. jongho scoffs, rolling his eyes. “yeah she can try, but i don’t think it’ll work.” before you can reply with a snarky comment, jongho lifts you bridal style. “your precious yuyu is gonna lay under you, okay?” he explains as yunho lays down on your bed. jongho spins you around and places you chest to chest with yunho. “hi, pretty girl. are you ready?” you nod, still feeling unsure. you feel him reach down between the two of you to align his throbbing cock up with your cunt. he slides in with ease, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. he’s much longer than jongho but jongho’s girth stretched you out enough for yunho to slide in comfortably.
you shiver as you feel a pair of hands run up your ass. “you’re gonna look so fucking slutty with both our cocks inside you, baby.” a sharp smack lands on your ass cheek and you’re almost 100% sure it left a handprint. you feel the tip of jongho’s cock brush your already full hole. as he starts to push into you, yunho brings his lips to yours. he kisses you with soft passion, trying to keep you distracted. the stretch is unbearable, to say the least. you let out strangled moans against yunho’s mouth, scraping your nails into his shoulders. once they’re both bottomed out, they freeze. your walls pulse as you try to adjust. “mmf please move,” you mutter, hoping they could hear you. 
they both pull out simultaneously, emptiness flooding you. they both slam back into you so hard that your whole body jolts forward. your senses are on overdrive, trying to understand the pain and pleasure that fill your abdomen. you’re scared that if you dig your nails into yunho’s shoulders any harder you’ll draw blood. “color?” yunho says, his voice sounding strained. “green, green, oh my god,” you respond. finally, they move in sync with each other, emptying you and refilling you at the same time. “i can’t, i can’t, too much,” you babble, your legs trembling. “yes you can. you were made for this,” jongho replies, slamming into you extra hard. yunho strokes your hair as he thrusts up into you. “i’m so close, please let me cum, i need it, please,” you beg, your eyes watering. yunho and jongho look at each other, as if trying to decide your fate. you know jongho wants to deny you, but yunho just wants your pleasure. “you can cum, you’ve been such a good girl,” yunho encourages. they keep up their unrelenting pace, even as you’re thrown over the edge. “gonna cum inside you, baby. you deserve it,” yunho says, throwing his head back. both him and jongho are close and you can feel it. 
jongho digs his fingers into your hips as his thrusts stutter to a halt, being the first one to blow his load inside you. it coats your abused walls and yunho’s still moving cock. yunho’s orgasm follows soon after, high pitched whines coming from his throat. you feel so full, both loads slowly seeping out of you. they stay inside you for a moment before emptying you. “i’ll go get a towel,” jongho says before rushing into the bathroom across the hall. you stay laying on yunho’s chest as he whispers sweet nothings to you. you feel the rough texture of the towel on your sensitive core, making you flinch. “sorry,” jongho apologizes. 
eventually, you’re falling asleep. you’re still unmoving from yunho’s hold, feeling the most safe there. you can hear your roommates talking to each other but your brain has gone numb. everything buzzes around you as you fall asleep, your body finally giving out.
“sleep well, pretty girl.”
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© lomlhwa 2024
883 notes · View notes
shibaraki · 19 days
Text
OUT OF MY HEAD, HALF BURSTING ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU
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synopsis: japan’s sweetheart and saviour is in a quirk induced coma. you’re the only one that can bring him back.
tags: GN reader, post canon au, pro hero deku, quirk accidents, fluff + angst, hospitalisation, mutual pining, intimacy, technically doctor/patient but they know each other, friends to lovers, reader has quirk (‘dream walker’), memory/dream sharing, referenced depression, getting together, kissing, cheesy idc idc
wc: 5.2K
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In your years wading through patients' memories, you’ve found that people have the most uncanny ability to resign themselves to their fate. You’ve wondered time and time again whether it’s instinctive to ruin things—if humans couldn’t help but stumble and make a mess of the things around them.
You recall that thought process now with a weary sigh, as your eyes skim over the patient's name for the tenth time in as many seconds. Midoriya Izuku.
“Well? Are you gonna do it or not?”
You’ve been staring at the medical file for long enough that an uncomfortable silence has dawned upon your office. Two weeks prior, a villain named Catatonic used her quirk to force Deku into a comatose state, that which he has yet to wake from. Even after the liberal use of quirk inhibitors, countless visits from Eraserhead and the administration of various stimulants, Deku would not stir. Realistically he should’ve roused from the coma naturally as soon as the quirk was cancelled. But he hadn’t, and his doctors can only assume it’s because he can’t, or refuses to.
Thus the case in your lap. A last resort.
“I’ll do it,” you intoned, thumb flicking at the corner of the manila folder. There’s already a deep crease there. The file itself is the heaviest you’ve ever had in your hands. Dense in a way that makes you ache. You and Deku are good friends—the kind of friendship that forms mainly because you frequent the same places. That place in particular being the hospital, except you were there to work, and he was often wandering the hallways listlessly to burn off the dregs of whatever sedatives he’d taken or visiting with patients.
Awkward small talk eventually blossomed into real, fulfilling conversations, and you started to like him, a lot more than you should. You kept the memory of his small, sincere smile close to your chest; nothing like that dazzling grin he wore on duty, it was softer, something private, and you relished being on the receiving end of it.
He was skilled at talking around his injuries. Sometimes if you felt especially bone-weary after a shift you’d be so relieved to see him that you forgot to ask. That sits with you. Deku is a hero. A good one, the best one. He’s brilliant at what he does—keeping people safe, protecting them from harm. In the entirety of his career, it appears he rarely, if ever, turned that care and consideration onto himself. You’re not a licensed therapist, and barely a doctor. Still you contemplate his medical history with a cold sense of regret.
“You realise there’s a large possibility I’ll end up seeing a lot of confidential stuff while I’m in there”.
“Don’t care. S’not like you can tell anyone”.
“I don’t think you understand how invasive this will be. I’ll see personal things. Private things, Bakugo. He won’t be happy”.
“Don’t care. If he doesn’t like it then maybe he should fuckin’ wake up”.
“This might not work, you know,” you finish tiredly.
Bakugo arches his brow at that. Despite the shadows under his eyes there’s no defeated slope to his shoulders, only a fierce scowl. “Either you can do it or you can’t,” he says, voice unsteady as if reeling between rationality and outright aggression. “You’re supposed to be the best at what you do”.
“I am the best at what I do, Bakugo. I can promise you I’ll find him”.
“Then what’s the damn problem?”
The file feels heavier. It feels like a foregone conclusion. You swallow, your throat dry. You don’t bother attempting a smile. You’ve lost the will to maintain your professional veneer.
“I can’t promise he’ll want to come back”.
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Dream walker.
At twelve years old you thought it made your quirk sound whimsical, and gentle, and not at all the invasive thing that it actually is. After all, your reach didn’t end only at dreams. You were able to project your consciousness into another’s mind if it pleased you, parse through every memory, ambition, fantasy, trauma and fear, and manipulate them however you liked. Back when your control was non-existent you would drift into people’s heads whenever you slept like some wayward soul and saw far too much far too young.
The need to understand yourself and your quirk is what drove you to studying medicine. Neuropsychology, mainly. You carved meditative techniques into the very recesses of your own brain and learned to keep your consciousness tightly moored but had no real ambition beyond that. After the war and the complete upheaval and reform of hero society, it was difficult to find your place.
Until Okumura Yukiko.
At the small age of eight, Yukiko fell under the effects of a severe nightmare quirk, and despite the quirk being canceled she couldn’t wake up naturally. You had carefully walked through the delicate threads that made up her young mindscape—quirk-infested by formless shadows with knife-sharp teeth and worse, eerie figures that wore the appearance of her father—you found her trembling inside her mothers figmental wardrobe, took her hand, and guided her out.
When you came to she was curled up in the swaddle of your arms, trembling still, but awake. Her timid incantations ring true in your ears even now. Those tiny little thank you, thank you, thank you’s inspired the person you are today. Not quite a doctor, or a therapist. A specialist for special cases.
Something in your gut told you that traipsing into Midoriya Izuku’s mind wouldn’t be simple. That it would permanently change things. This isn’t some stranger, or a patient you’d never cross paths with again. He’s important to you in a way others aren’t.
Your hand hovers over his face, fingertips brushing his temple. You push your fingers into his thick green hair, rich in colour and soft, no knots to catch on your knuckles. His friends have been visiting in shifts, keeping him comfortable and presentable.
Bakugo had managed to keep the Hero Commission at bay for the time being, but if you came back without Midoriya tomorrow there would be far more than one scowling man looming in your office. Though the possibility left a bad taste in your mouth you can admit, in the privacy of your thoughts, that you’ve contemplated prolonging his recovery for the sake of allowing Midoriya rest. There must be something keeping him under, his genuine reluctance or worse; you’ve been reassured repeatedly of All for One’s death and the absence of the previous quirk holders but it’s best to exercise vigilance.
Midoriya does not react, not even a twitch of his nose, but there’s a flutter beneath his eyelids and a sleepy-sweet warmth to him that has you smiling, fond. Tucking your feet around the legs of your chair, you scoot it forward and bend closer, elbows resting on the edge of the hospital bed. “I’m not sure you can hear me in there. Maybe not. But I hope you won’t hate me for this,” you tell him.
Midoriya’s face remains serene as ever—more so than you can remember. It makes you wonder how much pain and discomfort he’s been hiding throughout your interactions. The tension has been sapped from his expression, lashes fanning over his cheeks. You’re close enough to count each individual freckle. Lightly, your thumb taps the space between his brows. “There are a lot of people out here that love you. They’re waiting for you to wake up, so I’ll have to have a look around your head a bit. Okay?”
Nothing. Heartbeat monitor pulsing a healthy rhythm, broad chest rising and falling, Midoriya continues to sleep. You sigh and cast a final glance around the private hospital room. The clock reads 18:22. Outside the window you see a single cloud, wispy as a dandelion, slowly disintegrate across the dusky sky. You make a cradle with your arm, head resting in the crook while you take Midoriya’s hand and try to relax. Anticipation turns in your gut. Years of experience aside, you’ve never really acclimated to the feeling of that first step into another’s subconscious.
Pressure gathers inside your skull as your quirk activates. You inhale a quick, wounded breath at the sensation. Your eyes roll back, vision swallowed by abrupt darkness, and you jerk against the distinct sensation of falling as your stomach roils. You’re overwhelmed by a cacophony of images and sounds—a determination that happiness would come, then moored to the burden of expectation, any optimism muffled under exhaustion and pain, replaced swiftly by a sense of discontent, grief and regret that swelled over time.
And then everything stops.
Your arms feel empty. Your chest feels hungry. You ache with it, the disquieting loneliness. Fog leaks into the memory, surroundings concealed beneath a thick mist. Behind you is a small pond. There’s a notebook soaking in the water. The koi are mouthing curiously at the weathered corners, faint black tendrils of ink curling off the charred pages. Scrawled boldly across the top is ‘Hero Analysis for The Future: No. 13’. Your strikingly young reflection ripples as you plunge your hand in and fish it out, holding it at arm's length as you shake the excess away.
Sufficiently less soaked, you draw the notebook to your front and carefully turn the cover to read the first page. You can feel the slight indentations on the back where a pen has been pressed hard enough to score the words through the page. Written inside, smudged but undeniable, is Midoriya Izuku’s name.
“Uh—excuse me…” a shaky, pitched voice comes from behind you, belonging to a very familiar pair of teary eyes. Midoriya is not just small, he’s scrawny. His hair is longer, unable to decide on which direction it wants to grow, and his middle school uniform is slightly ill-fitting, as though his mother bought it a size bigger for longevity. He ducks into the higher collar to hide his reddened face when you look at him.
The urge to bundle him up and hide him from the world is fierce. The situation is odd, but you offer a smile and his blush worsens. “Is this yours?” you ask, holding up the notebook. You try not to grimace at your own childlike voice. Midoriya nods frantically. His hands flex around the straps of his backpack. Smaller than the broad palms you’re familiar with, neither scarred nor crooked, trembling where they motion to clasp around the notebook. Your fingers brush and he attempts to swallow the yelp that bubbles in his throat.
“Thank you,” he stammers, pressing the notebook flat to his own chest. Midoriya swallows. His gaze never strays from you, growing brighter with each passing second as the idea in his head takes shape.
“Do you go to school here?”
“Oh,” you blink and the shadows have elongated. The pond is now hugging a school building. You recognise it despite never having seen it before. Aldera Junior High. “I don't,” you answer, sounding sorry. He predictably deflates. “I live close by, though!”
Midoriya perks up again. He shifts his weight between each foot. Red faced and unsteady, he quietly asks, “Do you think we could be friends?”
Your mouth slacks a bit, answers dying in your throat. You look down at your hands, palms upturned and unblemished. The dappled sunlight passes through your incorporeal form. Interaction with anything aside from the true patient during your work is incredibly rare though not entirely unfounded; people who daydream in vivid detail or ruminate chronically on old regrets usually had false memories in excess. Their minds seem to naturally meld around your intrusion, but they never went so far as to seamlessly incorporate you. Which can only mean one thing.
You fit because Midoriya has imagined this numerous times before—befriending you as a child.
Before you can respond you’re being dragged abruptly into a memory, the echo of a blinding flash of pain rippling through you. A reflexive gasp has your chest heaving and you curse at your lack of control. There’s barely a shard of light. Behind you is a hard, jagged surface but below is loose, uprooted. Attempts to move are futile, and agonising. You slump into the displaced rubble, silt and icy embrace, and listen. From above there is only a haunting silence but only a few feet ahead you hear muffled crying and Bakugo’s strangely tinny voice.
Your vision adjusts in increments, from pure darkness to a soft outlined blob to a comfortingly familiar silhouette. Midoriya is poised like an Atlantean statue, holding up the creaking structure and keeping it from crushing the young girl cowered in front of him.
Another wave of pain washes over you as the rubble groans. Midoriya bites back a whimper. His body is sinew and bone pulled taut, skin stretched over a drum. Everything seemed to swell dramatically around him.
“We’re almost there, kid. Two minutes,” Bakugo’s voice spills jarringly from the bulky earpiece hugging Midoriya’s ear. “Now look at Deku for me. You lookin’?” the young girl does as he commands. You see her trepidation falter at the easy smile Deku is wearing. “Bet he’s got a big dumb grin on his face right now, yeah?”
“Y—yeah,” she echoes, clutching the dirtied hem of her dress.
“You think he’d be smiling if there was anythin’ to be scared of?”
Her shoulders slant, the tension released, and she offers a tremulous smile of her own, “No”.
But you can feel, quite viscerally, how scared Deku was in that moment. The nauseating pain in his arms has dwindled into numbness and he daren’t spare himself more than the occasional shallow breath, as if the bloating of his lungs alone might disrupt his balance. Not once does his smile falter.
The surroundings warp again. You struggle against the whiplash, flung unwillingly into another memory. Breath forced from your lungs, the echo of Izuku’s pain dissipates in a blink and you land on unsteady feet, coughing and spluttering in the middle of an eclectic café covered in tinsel.
A sign written in cursive above the chalkboard menu reads ‘Mean Mug’. Melodious Christmas music plays quietly overhead, and the bell above the door is soft enough to get lost in the smooth notes. You’re cocooned by heat and met with bold patterned wallpaper. The unifying palette seems to be warm-toned colours; red, orange and brown come together amidst the mismatched decor to create a cosy atmosphere.
A half heartedly disguised Midoriya shuffles awkwardly by the counter, looking up at the door with trepidation every time the bell chimes to signal another customer. He grins once Uravity arrives in a casual disguise of her own, eyes still bright beneath the shadow of his cap.
They order and settle in a quaint alcove away from the windows and any prying eyes. Neither hero notices your presence as you seat yourself at their table and listen to their conversation. There are things you don’t understand. Code words to be used when discussing sensitive matters outside of their agencies. Inside jokes that you weren’t there for. But most curious of all is the knowing look on Uraraka’s face when Midoriya mentions that he saw you at the hospital that day.
“You’re hopeless, Deku-kun,” she says, as fond as she is amused. “What was your excuse this time?”
Midoriya clears his throat. He grips his cup, pressing until his knuckles turn white. It draws your attention to the thin cast splinting his ring and middle fingers together. “I broke my fingers sparring with Kirishima”.
You remember that, though too entrenched in his memory to attempt receding into yours for details.
“So you leapt halfway across the city to have them stuck together despite the fact that your agency has an on-site infirmary,” Uraraka’s hair falls in a gentle swoop beneath her jaw as she laughs. Midoriya shrinks into himself ever so slightly and her eyes soften. She pokes at his forearm. “C’mon Deku—why haven’t you asked yet? Do you really think you’ll get rejected?”
Glancing back and forth between them, your heart beats a tattoo across the inside of your ribs. You feel as if you’ve both missed something quite important and heard too much. You push your chair backwards and fall away from the table, and the memory, before Midoriya can respond.
With renewed determination—and heat rising to your cheeks—you reign in your quirk, steering cautiously through Midoriya’s subconscious mind as you should’ve in the first place. Images flicker in and around your periphery, each as desperate to draw you in as the last.
You see Midoriya crying, bleeding, lashing out in anger. You see him in a sterilised room, lulled by monotonous beeps, flesh stitched back together. You hear the doctor's voices coalesce into white noise. You watch as he’s handed crudely drawn thank you cards, coffee-stained police reports and thick manila envelopes marked as confidential in large red letters.
You turn away as Eraserhead approaches, a solemn expression, a quiet clink accompanying his footsteps, unnaturally heavy to one side, a young girl with silver hair following right behind him.
Your heart leaps to your throat when he screams in agony. You look down. There’s blood running down the street in rivulets, skin coming apart like wet paper.
You close your eyes. Next you risk a glance All Might is there, thinner than ever. He’s sitting in a wheelchair by a large window swaddled in a thick knitted blanket, watching over the city, smiling.
You turn away, feeling a pang of grief. Midoriya is expressionless, examining his battered body in the mirror, condensation still lingering on the glass, tendrils of heat curling upward as the shower drain gurgles.
Then he’s in a dark room bringing a stranger's hand to his mouth, kissing the centre of their palm, drawing the finger into his kiss-bitten mouth and sucking with a hazy gleam in his eyes.
It’s overwhelming. You stumble and suddenly Shouto is eating across from Izuku. He brings his chopsticks to his lips, noodles hung limp between them. “It’s obvious you like each other. You should just confess,” he says before shovelling his food.
Too private. You turn on your heel and find a patient of yours on the bed, unresponsive. Izuku is beside you, muttering under his breath, thumb pressed to the shadow beneath his lip. He reaches back to brush your wrist and offers a tentative touch of reassurance. You watch yourself lean against him for a moment and then retreat, grateful for his consideration, unneeding of it, and desperately wanting it, all at once.
The scene ripples violently. A reporter is staring up at Izuku with sparkling eyes. Her hair cycles through an array of colours as she shakes with excitement. “It’s amazing, Deku-san,” she insists. “For your spirit to be so heroic that it physically steers your body… that’s special!”
Izuku conceded with a strained laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. You feel how his stomach knots. “I used to think so too,” he says, sounding far away.
It’s the middle of the night somewhere when your search finally comes to a halt. You find you’ve landed on an empty street, in that dense, heavy darkness that makes you feel like the only person in the world who’s awake. There’s a tall residential building hugging the pavement. Intuitively, you know this is where Izuku lives.
Your footsteps are made heavy by Izuku’s lingering hurt and exhaustion. It’s disconcerting, the way he feels about his apartment. Coming home should be effortless. People come home in the same way they draw breath. But to Izuku, it's a weary, miserable journey that he must consciously think about and do. His perennial loneliness is overwhelming, a near physical force repelling you from opening the large glass door.
One foot in the lobby and the surroundings undulate. You’re dropped in the middle of his living room. It’s vacant. There’s a large box of case files tucked under the coffee table, an old takeout box left out on the counter, a blanket strewn haphazardly over the couch cushions. You pinch the soft fabric and rub it between your fingers, bringing it to your nose as you’re overcome by the urge to smell it. Izuku’s warm scent floods your senses.
Something thuds outside, followed by a tinkling of keys on a chain. Your blood runs quicker as the front door abruptly opens. Izuku looks harried as he ducks into the genkan, quite visibly frayed. The upper half of his hero suit is unzipped, pushed down to hang over his hips, littered with debris and dry mud. You hold your breath as he kicks off his shoes and lifts his head, meeting your wide-eyed gaze. The air around you is charged. Trepidation prickles at your nape.
Then the shadows over his stormy face recede. Izuku gentles, light returning to his previously empty eyes. “I’m home,” he breathes. “I missed you”. His voice shivers down your spine—you know in your gut that this is him, the real Izuku, but that fact is hard to believe while he’s looking at you like he wants you.
“Welcome home,” you smile back, slipping the blanket around your shoulders as you move toward him. “Hard day at—?”
Your intentions are to sit him down, keep him calm so as not to be ejected, and explain what’s happening, but before you have the chance his larger body crowds you against the wall—the dull impact reverberates through your ribs, knocking the breath from your lungs and he’s kissing you as if it’s something he always does.
Though it’s more of a collision than a kiss. The sensation is indescribable. Information spills into your mouth, your quirk reflexively absorbing his every fantasy, ache and want. Your knees almost buckle. The blanket puddles at your feet. Fingers snake into his thick hair, nails dig into his roots where skin becomes earth as you try to reciprocate his fervour.
Under your tongue you feel the cut on his lip, under your palms the dark swell across his cheek. You shake off the cloud of desire. Too many lines have already been crossed. “Izuku,” you whine. His name comes naturally now; you know him deeply enough. Blunt teeth graze at your jaw, your throat. You lean away for air only to catch a glimpse of another angry ivory-red bruise peeking from beneath his loose collar. “Izuku,” you tried again. Then louder. “Izuku, that’s enough”.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Izuku rasps as he rears up from the crook of your neck with wide, glassy eyes.
“No—I’m,” your heart beats hard in your ears. Dread sinks low in your belly. “It’s me. I’m really here, Izuku. You’ve been away for too long. I had to use my quirk. We need to wake up”.
“Wake up? You’re… oh,” his eyes grow wider, then shutter closed on a shaky exhale. The cut on his bottom lip has started bleeding again. Rivulets seeped into the cracks between his teeth and stained his gums red. You yearn for the searing heat of his hands as he releases you and staggers backwards to scrub at his face. “Oh my god”.
“Wait. Please don’t throw me out,” you say quickly, reaching to clutch at his wrist in case he panicked. Izuku tenses at the contact only to relax a beat later, his fingers spreading over his eyes so he can get a peek at you. “It took me forever to find you here. There’s a lot of stuff in your head”.
“I won’t. I wouldn’t,” he mumbles. You could collapse in relief. He’s not angry, he’s embarrassed.
“Thank you. I promise I tried not to look at anything too private”. Your mind didn’t make it easy, you think. It was almost like he wanted me to see everything.
Izuku groans and lets his hands drop to his sides in defeat, revealing an entirely pink face. You keep your fingers curled around his wrist, his pulse light and fast. “Okay. I’m okay. We should probably sit down for this,” he eventually croaks, a tremulous smile working its way across his lips. “Drink?”
You pick up the blanket and make your way to the couch while he briefly disappears into the kitchen. Around you the apartment takes on a rosy sheen. A dull clink shudders through the silence as Izuku sets a cup on the coffee table in front of you. It’s your favourite work mug down to the smallest details.
“You remembered this old thing?”
Shaped like a cat, the handle curved in and away like a feline’s tail. It’s piping hot, steam already curling up from it like a crooked finger, like the invitation he meant it to be.
Izuku nodded awkwardly, perched so far forward that it stretched credulity to say he was on the couch at all. He tracks your movements with intensity when you lean to pick up the hot drink. The initial sting to your palms quickly dwindles into numbness as you bring it closer and realise what’s inside. Hot chocolate. The surface sprinkled with those small, cube shaped marshmallows that he likes.
You swallow and feel the warmth spread through your body. A smile pulls at the corner of your mouth as the thick, saccharine flavour floods your senses, washing back the bitterness and thawing your anxiety. You can hear the tension in Izuku’s shoulders snap as he slumps forward, arms hung over his knees and head low in relief. His reaction is oddly vindicating, if not contagious.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asks. “Time is weird here”.
“You’ve been comatose for over two weeks,” you reply. “They tried everything they could before Bakugo insisted on bringing me in. You have a lot of people waiting for you”.
Izuku inhales sharply. He makes an aborted motion to scoot closer before thinking better of it. Your attention strays to the nervous wringing of his battle worn hands. Endeared, you put your mug down and close the distance yourself. Pressed thigh to thigh, you envelop his tightly curled fists, bringing them into your lap. The shaky breath he takes is loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“Honestly I’m surprised you’re still working”.
He looks at you with an unsure, watery smile, sunlight caught in glassy eyes. His voice is thick as he asks, “What do you mean?”
You smile sadly and run your thumb over his knuckles. “You’ve been on patrol. I thought you might’ve locked yourself in your head because you needed a proper break—and who could blame you, really. But you’re working yourself thin even in your dreams”.
Izuku huffed a laugh, more breath than humour. “I love being a hero. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he says, his voice tight. You sink into his side and feel his diaphragm stutter. “But it isn’t everything. It felt like I was suffocating and I needed something more. Something to come home to for a little while…”
His red-rimmed eyes quickly return to his lap when you meet them. “I still can’t believe you’re here. Your quirk really is incredible”.
You can feel the shame swatting at you like a summer-born heatwave, reminded of just how deeply you’ve invaded his privacy, and how easily you overstepped your bounds.
“I’m so sorry,” he continues, at the same time that you tell him, “I’m sorry, Izuku”.
“Please. Let me go first,” he murmurs like a question. You nod your assent. “I’m sorry I forced myself on you. I thought you were a part of my imagination, like the rest of this place. I should have realised you weren’t. I’m sorry,” he rambles on. “I wanted to be closer to you but I got carried away and I’m sorry”.
“You couldn’t have known. I should have told you it was me as soon as you walked in,” you firmly interject. Izuku doesn’t look any less stricken in your periphery, cheek sunken where he’s gnawing at the flesh. “And you didn’t force anything. I hardly pushed you away,” your brow wrinkles and you smile despite yourself. “I got a little lost in your head, too. Not my most professional moment I admit. But I wouldn’t want to leave either, if we were cuddled up in here all day”.
“Really?” Izuku blinks. Hope colours his cheeks. He clears his throat and shifts in place as he tries very hard to appear unaffected. “You don’t think it’s creepy—me picturing all this with you?”
You think of that young boy yoked with the burden of expectation and feel your heart crack. You can still taste his desires. They’re insipid, belying their age, as though they’d lingered long enough to stale. Izuku treasured his friends and fans', their love and loyalty; yet he felt guilty for allowing them to foster such a blind faith in his goodness. He was a man with faults like any other, capable of making mistakes, of inflicting harm. More than anything Izuku longed for someone to see the darker, uglier corners of his life, and make room for all of him. And you wanted to be the one to do it.
“I’ve imagined this with you. This and more,” bolstered by everything you’ve seen, the confession spills out with startling ease. Your eyes squint above the curve of your grin. “I like you too,” you coaxed his fist open as you spoke, mapping out the carved furrows, shallows and depths on his palm. “A lot”.
“Oh,” he exhales, slowly entangling your fingers.
You give an emphatic nod.
“How mad is Kacchan?”
“Pretty mad. But when is he not?” you laugh at his grimace. “I’ll be there as a buffer when you wake up. It’s my professional opinion that you need a few more days to recuperate and take me out for crêpes. So will you come home with me?”
There’s a gleam in his eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugs at your chest. His gaze flickers across your face, from your lips to your eyes in askance. You lean in and he kisses you again, sipping gently at your mouth, firm and slightly sticky with congealed blood. Strange. It feels so real. You suppose it is, in all the ways that matter.
“Okay,” he whispers after one last peck to your lips. You get to your feet as he stands and gestures nervously toward the genkan. “I, uh. I don’t really know how to get out of here so… lead the way?”
You laugh and take him by the hand. “Don’t worry. The way home is always a lot faster. It’s a little disorienting—watch your step,” you warn as he follows you through the front door. Rather than the lobby, or a stairwell, both bodies are swallowed up by darkness.
Spat out just as abruptly, your senses return to you piece by piece. Breathing through the vertigo you peel your eyes open to the rapid rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he reorients himself. A crick in your neck, a knot in your spine. The clock reads 07:12. There are already nurses bustling around the hospital bed, likely alerted by the frantic heart monitor; that which does little to hide the way Izuku’s pulse stutters when you lift your head to get a look at him.
“I’m up,” he says, throat rough from disuse. There’s a shaky smile on his face. “I’m home”.
Your hands are still entwined, albeit a little sweaty. You smile, “Welcome home”.
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gggukniverse · 5 months
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self fulfillment needs | myg
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title: self fulfillment needs
pairing: yoongi x reader (+ implied jungkook x reader)
series: basic needs !!!
genre: m, smut, roommates au
summary: two weeks after the kitchen incident where you had sex with your roommate while your other roommate watched you, things seem the same as always but also not the same at all. you try to approach the subject to only cause a fight and another sexual encounter.
warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, yoongi is bi, jungkook is confused my baby :(, sexual tension, dirty talk, she actually tries to dom yoongi at first but... haha, fingering, unprotected sex (pls be safe), a lil edging, hair pulling, teasing, yoongi himself is a warning, choking, face slapping, praising, degradation, he calls reader a slut, begging, spanking, p*ssy slapping, yoongi has a... piercing 🥴, they talk abt jk during sex, mentions of yoongi x jungkook, yoongi is so sweet after sex i'm sad :(
wordcount: 8.8k
note: hi !!! i'm back !! first of all, this is the second part to basic needs so please read that first because you're probably not gonna understand half of this chapter. omg guys this chapter is insane i cant even look at myself in the mirror after writing all of that. i'm still not convinced if it turned out okay, it could've been a lot better, but i hope you enjoy it !!!
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it’s been two weeks since the kitchen incident. and things have been weird.
it’s kind of a tricky situation because yoongi and jungkook act just the same as always towards you, like that night never happened in the first place. you find it troubling at first but you soon realize you wouldn’t even know how to approach them about what you did in that kitchen so you just let things flow. the problem is how they act around each other.
you wouldn’t consider yourself being extremely close to them, but with over two years of living together you’ve obviously come to know their dynamic. and you know they’re friends, you’re pretty sure they have different friend groups but you know they are friends and they get along way better than you do with any of them. that’s why you quickly catch on the weird vibe there seems to be between them now.
you’re used to waking up in the morning and finding them having breakfast in the kitchen together while talking about things you don’t really understand, but these days you walk into the kitchen first thing in the morning and don’t find any of them there. and it’s not just about breakfast, it’s about the weird tension between them when you see them bumping in the corridor, the excuses they make up not to be in the living room with you at the same time and the moments you see yoongi trying to make up conversation and jungkook just hums or gives a cold answer before leaving the room.
the worst thing is that your brain tells you it must be your fault. because it must be, right? before the kitchen incident everything was just fine but now that can barely stay in the same room for more than 2 minutes together.
and you don’t mean to snap at them but you can’t stop yourself from doing it one specific morning.
“what the hell is wrong with you two?”
the initial response you get is jungkook choking on his cereal and yoongi turning away from the coffee machine to look at you with such a surprised expression you guess he didn’t expect you to say that.
“what?” jungkook is the first one to talk as he wipes at his chin with a napkin.
“no, don’t try to act dumb now,” you tell him and hear yoongi snort. “you’ve been acting weird as fuck for the past two weeks and i’m so tired of it.”
“i’m not acting weird.” yoongi mumbles as he goes back to the coffee machine.
“i’m not acting weird either-”
“yes you are.” yoongi cuts jungkook off right away.
“hyung, c’mon...”
“you can’t even look at me since that night.” yoongi says but doesn’t raise his voice, he’s not trying to fight.
“i can look at you just fine.” jungkook replies and yoongi just scoffs.
“okay, jungkook.” yoongi hums completely unbothered.
“you’re communicating like 12 year olds,” you say when you’ve had enough and they both look at you again. “if something happened that night to cause all of this you should at least talk about it instead of avoiding each other.”
“nothing happened that night.” jungkook mutters as he finishes his breakfast.
“it sure looks like something happened.” you cross your arms and lean against the door frame.
“jungkookie is too ashamed of what he did that night.” yoongi says and pours the finished coffee in his mug.
you feel a pang in your chest so you look at jungkook with a cocked eyebrow for an explanation.
he is ashamed of that night?
“no!” jungkook looks panicked. “i don’t- i... it’s not like that.” he keeps stuttering and you don’t know what to say. maybe you should’ve considered the chance of them regretting it.
“she doesn’t need any type of reassurance, jungkook,” yoongi speaks again. “we both know she’s not the one you’re having trouble with.”
“hyung.” jungkook says like he’s warning him about something you don’t really understand.
“jungkook.” yoongi replies with the same tone but he currently looks much more calm than jungkook.
“can any of you explain what is happening?” you say in confusion and jungkook just looks down at his almost empty bowl while yoongi turns around to face you with a hand gripping the counter behind him and grabbing his coffee mug with the other.
“jungkook’s never messed around with another boy and now he’s acting like he’s committed a crime.” yoongi explains and you turn to jungkook when you hear him sigh.
“i’m not gay.” he mutters, still not looking up from his cereal.
“i’m not gay either,” yoongi replies like jungkook has said the most stupid thing he’s ever heard. “do you know what being bi means?”
“i’m not bi either.” jungkook replies.
yoongi snorts. “okay.”
“hyung.”
“i just swallowed your cum, you’re acting like i fucked you in the ass.” yoongi snaps and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to hide the gasp that threatens to slip out.
“you touched me too.” jungkook mumbles.
“and now you’re gonna say that you hated it, right?” yoongi scoffs and jungkook gets quiet. “jungkook, you almost came in my hand.”
“shut the fuck up!” jungkook snaps, finally looking up at yoongi with what you think is supposed to be an angry expression but in your opinion he just looks cute. and you guess yoongi might think the same.
“or what?” yoongi replies with a cocked eyebrow. jungkook doesn’t respond, just grabs his now empty bowl and walks to the sink, leaving it there before walking out of the kitchen.
and thank god because you were gonna drown in the fucking sexual tension if they stayed together in the same room for 5 more seconds.
“sheesh...” you whisper and walk to the counter to grab an apple.
“i don’t even know why you tried to do anything.” yoongi mumbles against his coffee mug before giving it a sip.
“you know it’s not his fault to be a little confused, right?” you tell him and sit on the chair jungkook was just sitting at. “you were kind of an asshole right now.” you admit and he sighs, putting his blue mug down on the counter.
“i’m not mad because he’s confused, he has all of the right to go through that, all of us do.” yoongi clarifies and you hum before giving your apple a bite. “what bothers me is that he can’t even look at me since that night.” he says, his voice quieter this time.
“yeah... i know.” you nod because you’ve obviously noticed.
yoongi sighs. “did i ruin everything with him?” you hate how worried he looks. of course yoongi cares about him. after all, jungkook is his friend and you can’t imagine how tough it must be for him to feel like he’s losing his friend.
“you didn’t, yoongi.” you answer his question because you really mean it. “i just think he needs some time to think.”
“thinking is what made him start acting like this, he looked perfectly fine that night.” yoongi tells you. “what he has to do is talk about it, but he won’t because he’s stubborn as shit.”
“yoongi.”
“he’s my friend, i can insult him.” he says and you can’t help but chuckle. “but seriously, he should talk about all of what he’s been bottling up. he’s probably been thinking about that night for all of these past days.”
“he’s not the only one,” you blurt out without even thinking and you can feel your cheeks heat up as soon as you look at yoongi and see a smirk growing on his face. “leave me alone.” you tell him before he can tease you about it.
“i didn’t say anything,” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “but i’ve been thinking about it too so don’t look so embarrassed.” he mumbles like it’s nothing as he puts his mug in the sink.
“you have?” you ask quietly. you don’t really know why but you thought he would’ve already moved on from it, that’s why this is surprising.
“y/n, c’mon.” he chuckles like your question is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, like the answer is obvious.
you’re about to reply, not really know what exactly, but jungkook is on the door again. he’s changed from his pajamas into some black sweatpants and a big hoodie, the hood over his head to probably cover his messy hair.
“where are you going?” you ask him. a stupid question really. at this point of quarantine people can only really leave for specific jobs or to do the groceries, and since the three of you work from home you can only suppose he’s going to do the groceries.
you turn out to be right when he walks into the kitchen and picks the little piece of paper with the list of groceries before putting it in the pocket of his hoodie. “the groceries,” he replies either way and looks at you. “do you need anything else?” he asks and you notice the way he completely ignores if yoongi wants anything too but decide not to say anything.
“not really,” you shake your had and he hums. “thanks, kook.”
jungkook nods in response and leaves the kitchen without saying another word, not even sparing yoongi a glance. just a couple of seconds later you can hear the front door opening and closing.
“he’s so...” yoongi sighs as you give your apple the last bite.
“so what?” you stand up to walk to the trash can and throw the apple. he doesn’t answer. “you wanna fuck him so bad.” you tease him.
“maybe.” he hums and you look at him, he’s just mindlessly scrolling down his phone.
you sigh and hop on the counter, swinging your legs as you think of ways to comfront him about that night. but your mouth ends up being faster than your brain.
“what did you mean?” you ask and see him putting his phone down to pay attention to you.
“what?” it just hits you now how intimidating his gaze is so you look down at your lap before speaking again.
“have you really been thinking about that night?” your voice is a little more quiet now.
“of course.” he replies like it’s the easiest question he’s ever gotten.
“okay, but like... in a good or bad way?”
when you don’t get an answer you look up at yoongi and find him pursing his lips in deep thought, like he’s calculating the words to say.
“so we’re finally talking about this.” he says.
“you don’t want to?”
“i thought you didn’t,” yoongi replies. “you didn’t address it the next morning and both you and jungkook kind of looked mortified so i didn’t pressure you into talking, i thought you wanted to forget about it.”
“i mean,” you start, trying to find the words to explain. “i kinda wanted to forget,” yoongi hums for you to keep talking. “because i felt so... weird? no, not weird. i felt-”
“uncomfortable?”
“no.”
“regretful?”
“no,” you shake your head again. “ugh, i don’t know how to explain it. i just couldn’t believe i did that, i felt a little... dirty.” you admit and god, it is so embarrassing.
“you are,” yoongi replies with a little smirk that makes you want to jump on him. jesus christ, you’re so fucked. “no, but seriously- i understand,” he says, smirk completely gone. “you could’ve talked to me though.”
“i didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it,” you explain with the annoying feeling that your cheeks are heating up again. “and since you didn’t talk about it either i thought you regretted it or something...” you mumble and yoongi’s jaw almost drops to the floor.
“what are you talking about?” he frowns, seemingly offended by what you said.
“you don’t regret it?” you ask shyly.
“the only thing i regret is not fucking you too.”
holy shit.
you could have a gun pressed to the back of your head right now and still wouldn’t admit the way your whole body feels like it’s been set on fire just from one stupid sentence.
“you- you can’t say stuff like that.” you mutter and have the decency to look at him even if you’re red as a tomato because you know he’s gonna know either way. because yoongi is a menace.
“why not?” he cocks an eyebrow. and fuck, he’s so hot you don’t understand how the hell you didn’t realize until now.
“because.” you reply because you don’t know what to say.
“no way you’re getting shy now...” yoongi chuckles as he walks to you.
“leave me alone.” you whine in protest and reach to him with your hand to softly slap his face. you do it in a playful way, your hand barely brushing against his cheek, but yoongi’s smirk completely disappears and something in your stomach twists in fear.
“do that again.” his voice is so fucking low all of the sudden, like he’s challenging you, and you don’t know if you’re scared or turned on.
“i- i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” of course the most stupid question you could’ve asked in a moment like this is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.
yoongi only shakes his head. “i said do that again,” he repeats and takes the final step towards you to stand right in front of you. “harder.”
you gulp. your whole body feels too hot, your clothes are starting to feel uncomfortable. yoongi is too close and you’re sure he’s devouring you with his eyes.
“yoongi.” you try to say something but you don’t know what you can really say.
you’ve never hit anyone. well, maybe one time a couple of years ago when a guy didn’t stop bothering you at a club when you just wanted to dance with your friends. you’ve never hit anyone this way.
does yoongi like this? is he really one of those people?
“i don’t wanna hurt you.” you mumble and feel stupid right after.
“i like it when it hurts,” yoongi replies and you have to bite your lip not to moan. “i’m asking you to do it, so just-”
the sound of the slap echoes in the quiet kitchen and you stare at yoongi with panic growing in your chest and a weird itch on the palm of your hand, the one you haven’t even put down yet from how shocked you are that you just slapped yoongi. his head is turned to the side from the slap and you can see the little reddened skin on his cheek before he turns back to you.
“i’m so sorr-”
you never get to properly apologize because the words die down your throat the second yoongi’s lips collide against yours. you immediately kiss him back and hum against his mouth when he wraps his arms around your body, moving closer to stand between your legs and pulling you as close as he can to his body. your arms are soon wrapping around his neck too and you completely lose yourself in the kiss.
he kisses you like he’s missed you. like he’s been wanting, needing to kiss you again for these past two weeks. and you’re no better, you kiss him back with the same hunger and desperation because you now realize just how bad you needed him.
“fuck,” he mumbles between kisses and you hum in response, not daring to pull away when it feels so good. “can’t stop thinking about you.”
“yoongi...” you whine while one of yoongi’s hands goes up and down your thigh softly, too softly compared to the way he’s kissing you.
“wanted you so fucking bad.” yoongi sighs and starts kissing down your jaw towards your neck.
“fuck,” a little breathy chuckle slips out of your mouth when you realize something. “this fucking counter again.”
yoongi chuckles against your neck and brings his other hand to your other thigh, making you wrap your legs around you before picking you up from the counter.
“what-” you mumble but yoongi gives you just a short kiss to shut you up for a moment as he starts walking out of the kitchen.
“do you wanna get caught again?” he teases and your cheeks burn. you hide your face on the crook of his neck in embarrassment. “i want you to myself today, if that’s okay.” yoongi says and fuck, why does everything he say makes you feel like you’re melting? you’re sure he wasn’t like this before the kitchen incident.
“yeah, that’s okay.” you leave a kiss on his neck that has him letting out a shaky breath as he keeps walking down the corridor.
“good.” he hums and you keep kissing his neck, sucking a little mark on a spot that’s clearly sensitive because as soon as you start sucking on it yoongi’s grip on your thighs tightens significantly.
you’re brought back to reality and forced to stop kissing on his neck when yoongi is suddenly placing you down on a bed, his bed. the covers are extremely soft, that’s the first thing you notice, and the mattress seems super comfortable. in that moment you can understand why yoongi stays in bed until late somedays, his bed is so fucking nice.
“there you go,” yoongi says as he hovers over you and positions himself on his knees between your legs, one of his elbows on the mattress right next to your head to support his body. “pretty.” he smiles before kissing you again.
“you should’ve...” you start between kisses, your hands going up to his long hair while his free hand goes down to your waist. “should’ve talked to me before.”
“could tell you the same.” he replies and stops kissing your lips to go a little lower, kissing your neck again.
“wait.” you squirm under him and try to push him away.
yoongi quickly pulls away, looking down at you with worried eyes. “everything okay?” he asks.
“yeah,” you nod. “just wanna be on top.” you try to push him again and he chuckles.
“okay,” yoongi hums and he suddenly grabs you by your thighs and turns the both of you around so that you’re on top. “good?” he asks, staying sat up with you on his lap.
“yeah.” you smile as you place your hands on his shoulders.
“are you trying to get all dominant on me now?” he teases while his hands find their way under your shirt.
you don’t know what gives you the courage for it but you smirk back. “and what if i was?”
yoongi snorts.
“what?” you frown, clearly offended by his response.
“nothing...” he says but you can see how he’s trying to hold back a smile.
“just so you know, i’m a good dom.”
and it’s not a lie. you’ve been dominant in bed quite many times before, it’s not like it’s your preference but you definitely have. you’re confident even if something inside of you tells you there’s no way you’re gonna be able to dom him, your pride is bigger than that right now because his stupid smirk is making you want to shut him up.
“mh... i’m sure you are.” yoongi speaks with that stupid smirk.
“yoongi.” you whine in protest and feel stupid right after because his smirk only grows bigger.
“you’re such a cute little dom.” he brings his hand to your face and drags his thumb across your lower lip, making you realize you’re pouting.
“you’re pissing me off,” you shake him up a little with your hands on his shoulders. “i can dom you.”
“i had you blabbering like a little bitch the other day and i hadn’t even touched you yet.” yoongi says and gives your waist a light squeeze that makes you flinch.
“it was jungkook,” you say, just because he’s actually getting to you and you need a distraction. “he was the one fucking me.” you clarify and he cocks an eyebrow.
“you think jungkook was the dominant one that night?” he asks. “he completely shut down when i got there.”
you gulp when you remember how jungkook’s dominant demeanor completely disappeared as soon as yoongi walked in the kitchen that night, how he clearly obeyed to everything yoongi told him. and it is so fucking hot. by this point your panties must be ruined, you can’t help but squirm uncomfortably on top of him.
yoongi seems to notice your problem because he looks down at where your bodies are together and moves his hands down to your hips, pulling you closer to him so that you’re sat exactly on top of his crotch. a sigh escapes your mouth before you can stop it when you feel how hard he is under you.
“i bet i can make you cry before you can even begin to try dominating me.” he hums and nuzzles into your neck, making you squirm just with the feeling of his nose on your skin.
“you just caught me in a bad time that night,” you mumble. and you’re kinda right, you were so desperate that night, you’re sure you could’ve done a lot better if your desperation hadn’t been clouding your mind. “don’t be so confident.”
“i went so fucking easy on you both that night,” yoongi says against your skin like it’s a warning. “actually, i didn’t do anything and you two were doing everything i said like you were under a spell.”
“i...” your mind goes blank when he runs his tongue down your neck.
“you should’ve seen your face,” yoongi continues, leaving little kisses down the wet stripe on your neck. “you were fucked out, you looked dumb.” he chuckles a little and you should feel offended but you only moan in response when he bites on your neck, not enough to hurt but enough to get a reaction from you.
“yoongi-”
“it’s okay baby,” he hums, his breath hitting the sensitive skin of your neck and making goosebumps erupt all over your body. “i would love nothing more than to fuck you dumb.”
“that’s-” you surpress the moan that’s threatening to come out of your mouth when yoongi places his hands on your hips and pulls you closer to him just to grind against his clothed crotch. “that’s not the way you talk about a lady.” you manage to say even though your voice breaks halfway through. yoongi has obviously noticed because a dark chuckle hits your neck again.
“oh, i know,” he says. you can definitely feel how your panties are sticking to your pussy now. “but you’re not a lady, you’re just a slut.”
a loud moan slips out of your mouth when he makes you grind your hips again and the friction between you feels just right. “yoongi...” you hold on tight to his shoulders as his lips make their way up to whisper in your ear.
“right?”
“yoongi, i-” by this time your hips are moving on their own, chasing that delicious friction agaist his crotch.
“aren’t you my pretty slut?” the gentle bite to your earlobe does it for you.
you don’t remember the last time you needed someone this bad. well, maybe jungkook a couple of weeks ago, but somehow this feels different. your body is screaming for him, something inside you has been begging you to let go of that pride and just give into him since you kissed.
“please.” you say and feel stupid right after because you’ve already given up and because you don’t know what you’re asking for.
“oh, how i love to hear you say that word.” yoongi smiles wide at you and you can’t help but continue grinding your hips against him.
“fuck, yoongi i-”
“mh, i know.” he gives you a sympathetic nod and looks down at how you’re working your hips. “look at you,” he says and gently slaps your hip. “already begging for it like the slut you are.”
you try to speak but the only sound coming out of your mouth is another pathetic whimper as you keep chasing that friction.
“should i just let you do this until you cum?” yoongi asks, you instantly shake your head.
“no,” you slide your hands down his arms until you’re wrapping them around his wrists. “touch me.”
“i’m touching you.” he fakes a confused expression as he squeezes your hips just a little. you just know he’s having so much fun with this.
“yoongi, you know what i mean,” you grind against him one last time before he lets out a chuckle. “what?” and you almost can’t even recognize your voice anymore from how desperate and whiny you sound, but you know he likes it.
“i find it funny how you were trying to go all dominant and shit just a minute ago and now you’re begging like a slut.”
you don’t say anything in response, you only bite your lip to hold back a sound because you’ve never really enjoyed being talked to like this in bed but now you might be discovering something new about yourself because yoongi makes it so hot.
he smirks at your lack of response and turns the both of you again, making you lay down on your back with him between your legs. and you enjoyed being on top of him for a moment but you can’t lie and say you don’t like this position as well.
“i would love to take my time with you, but i wanna see that pretty pussy again,” yoongi says, completely unaware of how you blush at his words because he’s focused on pulling your sweatpants down your thighs. “maybe i’ll make it longer next time, but i’ve been waiting for two weeks.”
next time. the knowledge that he’s already thinking about a next time makes you a little giddy but you don’t make a comment about it.
you kick your sweatpants off when yoongi pulls them past your ankles and let then fall on the floor.
yoongi makes a disapproving soud when you bend your legs and close them, hiding from him. “c’mon, be good and open those pretty legs for me.” he puts a hand on one of your ankles, trying to make you stretch your legs.
you give in so easily, spreading your legs enough for him to get between them again. his hands go to your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly and leaving goosebumps behind.
but he’s not looking at you yet. well, he is looking at you, he’s looking at you with a pretty smirk but he’s not looking where you want him to look. that alone makes you buck your hips up in an attempt to make him look down. the gesture makes yoongi break in a chuckle but he still doesn’t give you what you want, leaning down and supporting his weight on his elbow next to your head. then he gives you a kiss that leaves you speechless instead.
“what?” you mumble in confusion.
“you’re so cute when you’re horny.” yoongi gives you a smile that successfully distracts you from his hand going up your thigh.
you open your mouth to reply but the only thing that comes out is a loud moan when you suddenly feel yoongi’s hand cupping your pussy over your panties.
“have you been this wet all this time?” yoongi says and your brain can’t even come up with an answer because his fingers start running up and down your clothed folds.
you’re so wet that the feeling of the soaked fabric of your panties against your pussy makes you blush in embarrassment, but it feels so good to finally be touched that you can’t help the sounds coming out of your mouth.
“what a dirty girl,” yoongi hums as your hips buck a little to meet the movements of his hand. “so wet just because of some kissing and some grinding?” he teases you with a chuckle.
“please, take my panties off.” you beg. you need his fingers on you.
“only because you said please.”
he partially listens to you because he doesn’t really take them off but instead pushes them to the side, which you find ten times hotter.
a loud moan slips out of your mouth when his fingers finally touch you with nothing in between. your hand twitches with the urge to cover your mouth but you know yoongi won’t like that so you settle with gripping at the sheets of his bed instead.
“haven’t stopped thinking about this pussy,” yoongi mumbles and gives it a little slap that makes you squeak in surprise. “cute.” he grins and kisses you once again.
you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him to make sure he doesn’t pull away. he swallows all of your moans when he easily slips one of his fingers inside you and starts fucking you with it before quickly adding another one, you’re so wet that his fingers slide in so well.
“mhh… that’s a good pussy.” yoongi hums between kisses and you clench around his fingers.
his fingers feel so good, you can’t wait for his cock.
you moan his name, making him smile against your mouth. “does that feel good?”
“yeah.” you whine and he curls his fingers inside you, easily finding that spot. “fuck, right there…”
it feels so good that you almost forgot you don’t live alone. almost. you remember because you’re suddenly being surprised by the sound of the apartment door opening and closing.
jungkook is back home.
“yoongi,” you mumble against his lips like a warning but he only hums and starts fingering you faster. “fuck... yoon- yoongi, stop.”
“do you really want me to stop?” yoongi breaks away from the kiss with the hottest smirk on his face.
you don’t know what to answer. well, you know you don’t want him to stop, but jungkook is home now and you are loud enough for him to hear.
“yoon...” you try but nothing else comes out when he slips a third finger.
“that’s right,” he smiles and leaves a sweet kiss on your jaw as he keeps finger fucking you at a pace that’s driving you crazy. “say my name.”
you do. you say his name and he slips his fingers out just to give your pussy another spank that makes your whole body twitch under him.
“louder.” yoongi says as he rubs his fingers over your folds to ease the pain from the spank.
you say his name louder, but just a little because you know jungkook must be placing the groceries in the kitchen right now, he could hear you if you said it louder.
but jungkook hearing you must be exactly what yoongi wants because he gives you another spank that has you moaning his name way too loud. yoongi smiles at the sound.
“that’s a good slut.” he praises, his breath hitting your ear, and starts rubbing your pussy with his fingers from side to side so fast that you don’t know what to do with your body, your hips twitching and your cheeks reddening at the wet sound of his hand against your pussy.
god, you’re so wet.
“please…” you beg through a sound that’s close to a sob and it makes yoongi stop the movements of his hand and straighten up a little to look down at you, sitting back on his feet under him.
 “please what?” he finally gives your pussy a break but you miss his hand, the one he’s bringing to his mouth right now. “messy fucking girl, i always have to clean you up, right?”
you hold your breath and your pussy throbs when he slips two of his wet fingers in his mouth and hums like it is the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.
“yoongi please.” you repeat even if you don’t know what you’re asking.
“is that the only word you know how to say now?” yoongi asks, not really paying attention to you but rather to cleaning your juices off his fingers. “i won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me.”
your desperation gives you the courage to sit up, your legs a little bent up on each side of yoongi, and grab at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up until it’s coming off. you throw it on the floor and take the chance to run your hands down his chest, feeling the hot skin under your fingers and getting so lost in it that the words come out of your mouth easily.
“i want your cock.” you blurt out, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes.
“you want it?” yoongi says with that condescending tone again, like he’s talking to a dumb person.
fuck, you want him so bad.
you just nod in reply. he hums and then gets up on his knees, getting so close to you with how you’re sitting. “then pull it out.”
you hold your breath for a second. “can i?”
“of course you can.”
you don’t think about it twice. you hook your fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants again and tug them down, biting your lip at the sight of the outline of his hard cock under the fabric of his boxers.
he’s so big. and you want him so bad.
“c’mon,” yoongi urges you to do something and you finally tug down at his boxers. “there you go.”
you notice two things when you’ve pulled his boxers down to his thighs.
first one, he’s definitely big.
second one, yoongi has a piercing on his dick. right on the underside, under his tip, a barbell on his frenulum.
you have to bite back a moan at how hot you find it and yoongi seems to notice your reaction because he chuckles. “you’ve never seen one?” he says with a teasing tone and you look up at his face.
“can i…” you shift uncomfortably under him because you need your panties off.
“can you what?” you hold your breath when he brings a hand down to his cock, stroking it slowly. he is so close to you in the position you are right now.
“can i suck you off?” you blurt out before you can even worry about looking desperate.
you don’t miss the way he squeezes on the base of his cock as soon as you let the words out, but he shakes his head.
you’re about to complain when yoongi speaks up again. “i would love to fuck that pretty mouth, but i need to fuck that pussy first.” he nods down at your body.
you lean back, supporting yourself against your elbows, and look at him with puppy eyes now that you know they seem to work on him. “then come fuck it.” you know you’re pouting but you couldn’t care less right now. you need him so bad.
“it will be my pleasure,” he grins but then looks down at your chest. “but take that shirt of first.”
you obey instantly and take it off in a second, throwing it somewhere on the bedroom floor and finally laying down on your back. you don’t miss yoongi’s gaze on your bare chest.
“stop doing that.” you throw one arm over your eyes not to see the way he’s devouring you with his eyes.
“i’m not doing anything.”
“you’re looking.”
“am i supposed to look somewhere else?” he responds and you chuckle a little.
“no, but- ah!” a moan escapes your mouth when you feel yoongi’s mouth on one of your nipples. you unconsciously slap your hand over your mouth to muffle any other noise slipping out of it, but yoongi is quickly grabbing your wrist and pushing your arm away.
“none of that shit,” he says before starting to litter kisses all over your chest. your back arches a little when he flicks his tongue on your other nipple and he chuckles in response. “so cute.”
“just fuck me already.” you beg, feeling yourself getting even more wet each second.
“someone’s eager to get fucked, huh?” yoongi straightens up again and wraps his hand around his cock again, stroking it lazily like before. you can’t look away.
then all of the brattiness you have in you slips out your mouth. “no, i just think you’re making me wait longer because you don’t know what to do with that.” you nod towards his cock.
yoongi’s smile is gone when you look back at his face and you know you’re in trouble.
“i wanted to look at your face while i fucked you,” he starts and you can already sense a but coming. “but i want you on all fours now.” you open your mouth to say something but he shakes his head and speaks again. “turn around before you piss me off again.” he talks with such a low voice that you can’t deny him anything.
you turn around and get up on your hands and knees, though your breath hitches when he places a hand on your back and pushes down for you to get down on your elbows, you squish your cheek on his pillow.
yoongi curses behind you and you can sense he’s looking down at your exposed pussy. the reaction gives you the courage to arch your back, pressing your chest to the mattress and spreading your legs a little, just enough for him to see you better.
“if you tell me i can’t fuck you raw i’m gonna be mad.” he curses and you giggle.
“you can do it.”
“really?” yoongi asks. you appreciate that he’s making sure.
“yes, i let jungkook fuck me raw, you should do it too.” you respond and move your ass a little. “c’mon, i’m waiting.”
and you really thought he was gonna make you wait a little more, that’s why you gasp in surprise when yoongi rubs the tip of his cock through your folds.
“oh my god…” you mumble. “please, don’t tease.” you beg when he keeps rubbing it up and down. you can actually feel the piercing and you might go crazy.
“i don’t know, since you said i don’t know what to do with my cock maybe i shouldn’t give it to you.” yoongi says with a low chuckle as he places one of his hands on your hip.
“no, please.” you whine into the pillow, feeling like you could actually cry if he doesn’t slip it in right now.
“look at you, you haven’t stopped saying please since i first touched you.” he presses his tip to your clit and rubs it just right before pulling away and making you whine again.
“i swear to god if you don’t-” a loud moan escapes your mouth when you feel him slip in slowly. “oh fuck…” you mumble and bury your face on the pillow. but yoongi doesn’t seem to like that.
he’s suddenly threading his fingers through your hair so gently but then he tugs hard to lift your head from the pillow as he bottoms out. “wanna hear you.” he says.
“so good.” you manage to say as you support your upper body on your elbows so that the hair pulling doesn’t hurt a lot, just the necessary.
“yeah?” yoongi hums as he starts to pull out just as slowly as he slipped in.
“big…” you sigh and hear a hint of another chuckle before he slips in again.
“you’re so fucking tight, holy shit,” he groans and you can feel his hand on your hair faltering for a second so you clench around him to get a reaction. “oh fuck.” he moans and he sounds so hot that you push your ass back against him to make him bottom out again.
“you feel so good.” you whine and he finally lets go of your hair but you rest your head on your side for him to hear you.
“can i move?” yoongi asks, both hands on your hips now.
“yes please.” you beg.
and he’s not gentle, he fucks you hard right from the start. you can actually feel the cold piercing inside of you and you think you might go crazy. the sound of skin against skin the only thing echoing inside the room because it feels so good that no sound comes out of your mouth.
yoongi doesn’t like that. he gives your ass a hard spank as he bottoms out again and stays there.
“if i don’t hear you i’ll stop,” he warns you and you try to move your hips for him to start moving again, but his hard grip on them doesn’t let you. “did you understand?”
“yes.” you whine and another moan slips out of your mouth when he spanks you again.
“good slut.”
you think you’re gonna cry when he starts fucking you again. this time you allow yourself to let all the sounds out, not caring about how loud you are.
“yoongi...” your voice breaks when he starts hitting that sweet spot that makes your legs shake. your knees hurt but it feels so good you don’t want to change positions.
you’re so fucked out already, you wouldn’t be so gone at this point with anyone else, but somehow it feels different with yoongi.
“that feels good?” yoongi hums and you feel a little bit of pride at how broken his voice sounds too.
“yes!” you moan. “please, don’t stop… please.”
“fuck,” he truly seems to like to hear you beg. “it’s like this pussy was made for me.” and he won’t stop hitting that spot, you’re so fucking close.
“yours.” you mumble, completely fucked out, and clench when you hear him chuckle at the word.
“mine?” he teases, slowing down his thrusts.
you nod uncomfortably against the pillow and cry out when yoongi suddenly pulls out. “no, please…” you beg, desperately pushing your ass back for him to keep fucking you.
“no, turn around.” yoongi says and you have half a mind to obey, turning around on the bed and finally laying on your back with a relief sigh.
you’re quick to wrap your legs around him to push him closer. “please, yoongi, fuck me.” all shame is gone, you need him so bad.
“slut wants my cock?”
you nod.
“then say it.”
“i want your cock.” you bite your lip when he starts rubbing his tip through your folds again.
“who wants my cock?” yoongi asks, acting dumb. you want to cry.
“me.” you sigh, bucking your hips up to grind against his cock.
“who?” yoongi asks again and you get it now.
“your slut.” you answer. yoongi smirks proudly.
“who’s cock do you want?”
god. you will go insane at this point.
“yours.”
“mh, but that’s not enough for you, right?” he hums, looking down at where his cock is rubbing against you. your breath hitches when your dizzy mind is able to get what he means.
“i-”
“one cock is not enough for your, right?”
“yoongi…”
“you got fucked by one of your roommates two weeks ago and now you’re letting your other roommate fuck you too?” yoongi circles the tip of his cock on your clit, the piercing making it feel so good youe eyes roll back. “do you spread your legs for anyone who has a cock?”
“n- no…” you blush, the humilliating words making you feel so good somehow.
“no? just for us?” yoongi asks and leans down a little, the hand he was using to hold the base of his cock wrapping around your neck now.
“yes,” you sigh. everything feels so hot. “just for you.”
“yeah?” he hums. fuck, he’s so hot.
you try to nod but his hand around your neck squeezes a little. “fuck…” you moan, your pussy throbbing now.
“i knew you would like this, dirty girl,” yoongi chuckles and gives your neck another light squeeze as he starts slipping his cock into you again. “that’s a good slut.” he groans as you clench around him again.
yoongi keeps his hand around your neck as he starts fucking you, squeezing just lightly. and he knows what he’s doing, because the second he lets go you let out the loudest moan you’ve ever made. your hand flies to your mouth in embarrassment but yoongi grabs your wrist and pulls it over your head, pinning it right there.
“i wanna fucking hear you.” he says, hips hitting against the back of your thighs so hard as he fucks you at a brutal pace.
“jung- jungkook is home…” you mutter as a warning but he only laughs.
“is that an inconvenient now?” he gives you a deep thrust that makes your eyes roll back. “let him hear. should i ask him to come here too?”
“fuck.” you’re so close, if he keeps talking like that you’re gonna cum.
“i’m sure he’s listening from his room right now,” yoongi says, his thrusts hitting just right, you’re sure you’re creaming his cock by this point. “do you think he’s touching himself as he listens to you?”
“oh my god…” your hand twitches with the urge to cover your mouth again but he keeps it pinned to the mattress over your head, your other hand grips at the sheets tightly.
“i’m sure he wishes he was in my place right now.” he looks down at how your boobs bounce from the thrusts and you’re sure your cheeks are tomato red.
“so close...” you moan, your legs trembling around him.
“i start talking about jungkook and now you’re gonna cum?” yoongi teases, earning another whine from you. “wow, one cock is really not enough for you, isn’t it…”
“yoongi!” you squeak when you feel his free hand on your pussy, he starts rubbing circles on your clit.
“gonna cum around my cock?”
“yes! yes, please!” you’re so fucking loud now but you couldn’t care less.
“you want him to hear you, huh?” yoongi chuckles.
“i’m g- gonna cum…” you mumble, the words almost not coming out.
“say his name,” yoongi says and you open your eyes in shock, pussy clenching around him. “say his name or you’re not coming.” he warns as he slows down his thrusts.
“yoongi, no…” you cry out.
“that’s not his name.” yoongi gives your clit a little lap that makes your body twitch.
“ju… jungkook.” you try and blush right after. it feels so wrong to moan someone else’s name in bed, you know yoongi wants it but it makes you feel so dirty. he wants you to feel like that.
“louder, baby.” he says and the contrast between that petname and the names he was calling you before makes you feel like you’re gonna pass out.
“jungkook!” you finally say, making yoongi grin down at you.
“that’s it, say it again.” he says and resumes the pace he was fucking you with before.
“jungkook!” you moan louder and yoongi’s fingers on your clit is faster. “fuck! oh my- ah! gonna cum!”
“good slut,” yoongi hums. “c’mon, cum for us.”
us.
the stupid word and its implications make you clench impossibly tight around him as the craziest shock waves run through your whole body. your vision goes blurry so you close your eyes while your body goes limp, completely exhausted as you feel yoongi slipping out.
you’re about to complain when you open your eyes and see him stroking his cock and moaning as white stripes of cum land on your sweaty chest.
“oh my god…” you sigh and throw one of your arms over your eyes.
you hum when you feel yoongi’s hand on your cheek. “are you okay?” he speaks so softly you could’ve sworn he’s not the guy who just fucked you.
“yeah.” you reply and something makes you start giggling lazily.
“what are you laughing about now?” yoongi says but yo can hear a smile in his voice.
“i can’t believe that happened.” you mumble and put your arm down to look at him.
“well, it happened.” he leans down and gives your lips a sweet kiss, then he gets down from the bed.
you watch him put his sweatpants and grab a towel from one of the drawers on his closet as your chest keeps going up and down, trying to get your breathing back to normal.
“seriously, are you okay?” he asks when he comes back to bed and sits down next to you, cleaning his cum from your stomach.
“yeah, just… a little sore,” you chuckle, your cheeks burning from how gentle he’s suddenly being with you. “i don’t know if i’m gonna be able to get up.”
“you can stay here for as long as you want.” he says softly and folds the towel, throwing it on a basket where you suppose he puts his dirty clothes.
“i would stay here all day,” you admit. “but i have work and i have to eat first.”
“i can prepare a bath for you,” yoongi says and your heart does something weird in your chest. “for your sore muscles.” he rubs a hand up and down your bare thigh.
“can you do that?” you look at him with big eyes.
“of course i can.”
“how can you be so sweet after everything you just did to me?” you ask and he chuckles, leaning down to kiss you again.
“aftercare is important, i take that really seriously.”
“okay,” you smile sweetly at him. “then go prepare that bath.”
he snorts. “brat.” but he stands up again and walks out of the room, closing the door after.
you stay there for a minute, staring at the ceiling and thinking about everything you just did in this bed. and you feel kinda good and giddy about it until you remember about jungkook.
you moaned his name. you yelled his name. and he for sure heard you. you shake the thoughts away from your head and decide to get up from bed. you need that bath.
your body begs you to lay down when you manage to stand up, your legs are sore and your whole body is so weak that you almost fall down when you grab yoongi’s shirt from the floor. you hum pleasantly when you put the shirt on and notice it covers you perfectly, yoongi always wears big clothes.
your trembling legs guide you out of the room and the smell of food cooking in the kitchen hits your nose and almost makes you moan at how hungry you are, jungkook must be cooking lunch right now. since he must be in the kitchen you take the chance to run to the bathroom, where yoongi is preparing your bath. but you’re proved wrong when you collapse against a hard chest in the middle of the corridor.
jungkook is looking down at you with something you can’t really read in his eyes. he just walked out of his room, he had probably left the food cooking in the kitchen.
“hi!” you say like nothing ever happened because you’re still so embarrassed, your cheeks burning again.
“hey.” jungkook mumbles and separates from you, motioning to walk past you and back to the kitchen.
you are walking past him and to the bathroom when he says your name, making you turn to him. “yes?”
“next time just come to my room instead of thinking about me when you’re with him.”
you freeze. you literally don’t know what to say.
you open your mouth to try and say something, probably something stupid, when yoongi appears right behind you.
“i think you should just join us next time.” he says and the smug expression on jungkook’s face completely disappears. he turns around and walks inside the kitchen again.
your shoulders drop in disappointment because the reaction kind of felt like a rejection but yoongi places his hand on your shoulder.
“he will come around,” he tells you. “he’s just stubborn.”
“yeah…” you mumble and turn around to follow him into the bathroom.
“you really want him, huh?” yoongi teases you but you completely ignore him, standing in front of the mirror and cringing at how messy you look. “my shirt looks good on you.” he adds, standing behind you.
a little smirk grows on your face as you look at him in the mirror. “you fuck me once and you’re already in love with me?” you tease.
“wow, look at how bratty that mouth is,” yoongi mumbles, crossing his arms against his chest. “but then you barely speak a word when you’re getting fucked.” that shuts your mouth completely and he looks proud of it.
“shut up…” you mumble and turn around to push him out of the bathroom. “get out, i wanna enjoy my bath.”
yoongi just chuckles to himself before turning around and leaving. you only notice the dumb smile on your face when you look at yourself in the mirror again.
yoongi has you smiling like that. and you also remember jungkook, how he basically told you to have sex with him again and the invitation actually sparked something inside of you.
you were just roommates a month ago but now you’re starting a dangerous game with the both of them. the thing is that it feels good, you can only hope it turns out alright.
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A/N: askssjdnandkdjas i hope you liked this chapter, please let me know your thoughts !!! it helps a lot to have feedback <3 i'm obviously makind this a series so pls look forward for the next chapter :) 💖 thank you all for reading ! have a nice day babes
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TAGLIST: @m4gg13-g @kooksbunnnn @baechugff @danielle143 @signingsongbird @dontcallmeelle @fancy-cloud @melakrish
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heartsteel-heartbeats · 6 months
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Heartsteel Kayn relationship HCs!
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No warnings for this one, you may proceed.
(( Psst! Hey! It’s not explicitly listed that you are also a performer, but you are free to assume that! I like leaving stuff open for ya. Also I may have gone a bit overboard… Sorry! )) ~ OBBY 💗
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Before Heartsteel
You’ve been with him before he was kicked out of his old band (maybe even well before he started his music career), so of course, Rhaast was no secret to you. He never was, really. You actually liked Rhaast and loved seeing him just go crazy and do what he wanted without much of a care of the consequences. Kayn figured this is why he was initially drawn to you, because you accepted this part of him.
His band was pretty much the opposite. They held him back extensively because of Rhaast. The situation itself and seeing him lash out time to time made you worried on how much more he could stand being with that group. Some days, you just let him rant to you. You don’t know much on the other members in general besides their names and their roles in the band, but seeing him so frustrated because of them felt like maybe it’s best if you didn’t.
When Kayn did get kicked out, you let him stay around for a bit. A bit eventually became a while. Totally weren’t preparing for this, you made sure there was plenty of room for him. An artist needs his own space after all, though he didn’t exactly pick up his guitar for some time.
It’s been rough for Kayn for a while. He was getting easily irritated over the smallest things and seemed to often get into fights online. You’ve had to keep him off social media more than once before he really made things worse for himself. His reputation has taken quite a hit when he was kicked out, so this was for the best if it means he doesn’t damage further by doing something stupid.
Rhaast, on the other hand, was a bit harder. Rhaast liked to leave a mark, mostly in a physical sense. There were times where you had to stop him from actually getting into serious trouble. It was hard to talk him out of it and sometimes you had to keep him from walking out that door. Doing such a thing did make you feel bad since you’re holding him back almost like his old band did with him, so there were times where you hesitated. Don’t get him wrong though, he knows you’re just worried about his wellbeing.
When he finally did pick up his guitar again, the songs he made were quite clearly targeted towards his old band. Rhaast was going all out and you encouraged that. Of course, these songs never went public for obvious reasons (though Rhaast almost argued with you to upload them somewhere). Hearing songs like these from him were really the one and only times where you can hear just how truly angry he was. Still, you were glad he was letting it out in a way that felt natural to him. Artists letting out their frustrations through songs weren’t uncommon, and most of the ones out there needed to have their listeners read between the lines to understand and see the artist. But you? You didn’t have to. It was all right there in front of you.
Approaching Kayn on the topic itself is rather difficult as he tends to get defensive and dismissive over it, so really, the best you could do was get his mind off of it for a little while. Anything works as long as he was doing something, anything. It didn’t matter what it was.
It’d take quite some time for him to actually come to you for comfort on the matter. When he does though, it was a huge weight off of both of your shoulders. It basically just happened one night, and it was one of those nights for him where his thoughts were keeping him awake. He can’t sleep, you can’t sleep either, so you two just kind of talked for a bit to tire each other out. Eventually, the topic shifts and you can feel his hold on you tighten ever so slightly.
Kayn almost never showed a vulnerable side of him, especially around you. He had his own reasons for that. On the rare occasion that he does, know that it means he trusts you more than anything.
He is happy that you stayed and helped him as long as you did (both being his muse and just supporting him). He makes you aware of it during that night and he does continue to show his appreciation in his own way, whether it’s simply some quality time or even writing a song for you.
Things did eventually calm down and Kayn was beginning to just enjoy doing what he wanted to do again just for the fun of it rather than out of spite. As long as he’s happier now. There’s nothing else to say about his old band.
General stuff between you two
Teasing. So much teasing… He loves your flustered and/or slightly annoyed look when he does it. He finds it adorable.
Kayn can drive but for the love of god never actually let him drive. The chances of getting pulled over and arrested for reckless driving is really high up there. Just let him be in charge of the music, he’ll at least he satisfied with that.
You two still text each other on Discord even if you’re in the same room. He just likes hearing you laugh over what he sends. This does include videos he finds online that he thinks (knows) you’ll laugh to.
Matching hair color! It’s fun, a pain in the ass to get done, but fun. There was a bit of a mess in the bathroom though, and that wasn’t fun to clean.
“Hah! It looks like a murder took place in here!” “I murdered your hair, that’s for sure.” “What?! Are you kidding me? This isn’t the first time you did my hair! It’s perfect!” “Well yeah, but your long hair is gone… I really loved your long hair…” “I mean- It’ll grow back eventually.”
Lunch and dinner sometimes include ordering some food and having it delivered, then eating it in your shared room. Is it healthy food? No, but hey, at least you’re both eating food. If it wasn’t that, then one of you was cooking. Kayn’s cooking is not that bad, but it could be better. Don’t say that though.
Doing each other’s makeup. Although, it started with you wanting to do his and him saying he’ll let you do it if you let him do yours. Now it’s routine.
Playing with his hair. Loves it when you do it. Just him laying his head beside you, or on your chest, with your hands running through his hair. It calms him down and makes him sleepy sometimes. He’ll deny it though.
“Sleepy?” “No.” *literally about to fall asleep* “Sureee.” “Shut up.”
Though there are some nights where one of you can’t fall asleep no matter what you do. Whether it’s insomnia or the other just won’t shut the fuck up (Kayn), at least one of you is still awake. If you feel someone brushing your hair in the middle of the night and giving small pecks, it’s totally not Kayn.
Heartsteel
When Heartsteel found one of his songs and sent him a message, you were okay with him eventually moving in with the group. Kayn has been talking about them for some time, and you think this might be good for him. From what he’s been telling you, these people accept Rhaast. Totally not the one reason why you were okay with it in the first place.
He often texts you about what’s going on and teases you by asking if you miss him. Say no. :) Sometimes complains to you about Yone, but it’s just him being assigned a chore (dish duty).
It does get a bit lonely sometimes now, but he’s happy to be around a group of people that doesn’t push Rhaast away so it doesn’t bother you. Kayn does make up for it by calling you and sometimes dropping by. The second one isn’t often though. Again, gotta keep fans and paparazzi from finding out about your relationship. Although speaking of calls, there were times where you two fell asleep while on call. It usually ends with one of your phones running out of battery.
The group seems to know about you. Yone and Sett has heard of you once or twice, but K’Sante is the one that knows about you the most. According to K’Sante, Kayn talks about you a lot. Ezreal only knows about you cause he got a peak at his phone and saw your name thanks to one of your over night phone calls and he won’t stop asking Kayn about you.
“Dude who’s [name]??? Is that who you’re always talking to all night?” “The hell are you looking in my phone for??!”
Ahem… Kayn did get some relationship advice from K’Sante. Honestly this is exactly why he knows a lot about you from him.
Aphelios only knows about you because of Sett, who then tells Alune.
Kayn tried to keep the music video of Paranoia on the down low so it could surprise you, but he needed to tell you about the dog the moment they picked him up. With that aside, seeing the music video definitely put a smile on your face. He looked like he was having a lot of fun with the new band (you totally saw the Discord calls Aphelios leaked).
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penny00dreadful · 3 months
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STWG Prompt: I Couldn't Lose You
Happy birthday @hitlikehammers, you deserve the world!
AO3
“He’s dead.”
Something must have been wrong with his brain. Maybe all those hits to the head had finally caught up with him. Maybe his audio processing was fucked or he was hearing things.
He had to be.
Because there was no way in hell this doctor just told him Eddie was dead.
“He’s what?” Steve asked with a slight shake of the head, like that would dislodge whatever was making him hear this incorrectly.
“He’s dead, Mr. Harrington.” The doctor repeated, his fingers tensing around his clipboard.
Steve could feel the crease in his brow, his confusion was probably plain all over his face. 
It didn’t make any sense.
“How could he be dead? He can’t be dead.” He replied. “I only just saw him.”
There was no devastation, no heartbreak, no clawing grief and no screaming agony. 
Because it didn’t make any sense.
The doctor looked on in sympathy. “Mr. Munson took a very quick turn-”
“A turn of what?” Wayne snapped, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at this ‘doctor’. “How did he turn?”
Steve glanced behind the doctor to look into Eddie’s hospital room again. The empty bed, the crisp sheets, the quiet monitors. Flowers gone. Cards gone. Eddie’s stuff sitting in a chair near the door.
It was almost like he’d never been in there.
When did they have the time?
Steve and Wayne had only left his side for ten minutes. It was the first time Eddie had been left alone since he came into the hospital, half dead and bitten to hell.
And Steve and Wayne had come back to find a doctor waiting for them by the door.
A doctor that Steve didn’t recognise. In a town with less than 5,000 people.
“His fever got quite high-”
Wayne scoffed. “Eddie didn’t have no fever.”
“Sir.” The doctor sighed out, frustrated. “Your nephew was very sick. And gravely injured. Situations like these can turn fast.”
Steve and Wayne glanced at each other, the both of them seeing the same suspicion reflected in each other's face.
There had been no alert over the PA system. The nurses station hadn’t been scrambled. If Eddie had taken a sudden turn, if Eddie had died… a young twenty year old suddenly dropping dead would have had half the floor flooding in trying to save him.
Not to mention Steve was pretty sure that doctor, if he was even really a doctor, was breaking the Hippocratic Oath by telling him this information.
Steve wasn’t family, he had no right to that information. The doctor hadn’t even asked Wayne before he started talking, he just started talking.
Steve could be anybody. 
Something super fucked up was going on. They needed to find Eddie and they needed to find him fast. 
“I understand this must be very hard for you.” The doctor said with a solemn face. It was very convincing. He must have gone to acting school. “Would you like to see him?”
Steve’s mind screeched to a halt again.
“Excuse me?”
“He’s down in the morgue.”
Bullshit he’s down in the morgue. But Wayne’s face was remaining hard and with one curt nod, he began to follow the doctor down the hallway.
It only took a glance back for him to communicate that he wanted Steve to follow him, to come with them. Either as backup or as emotional support if it did turn out that Eddie was dead.
Which it wouldn’t.
Because it couldn’t.
Because he wasn’t fucking dead.
Steve also really didn’t like the idea of leaving this floor unmonitored. He just felt… there was something in the back of his head telling him that he needed to keep eyes up here.
As they approached the nurses station and by extension, the elevators, his saving grace turned the corner.
“Just one second.” Steve said to the two of them. “I need to talk to my girlfriend.” 
Wayne snapped his head over to him and when Steve nodded in Robin’s direction there was a moment of complete and utter bewilderment on his face before he masked it.
With a small nod, he sent Steve off and Steve could see all of the questions running through Wayne’s eyes but he didn’t have time. 
Robin’s eyes got wider and wider as he approached, opening his arms up for a hug and a weary, “Hey baby” before he pulled her into him, turning them so her back was to the doctor.
“Code Red. Eddie’s missing.” He whispered into her hair, keeping his nose buried into her neck to hide the movements of his lips. “They say he’s dead. We’re going down to the morgue. I need eyes up here.”
He just fucking hoped she’d be able to keep a straight face, that she’d get it, that she’d go along. 
Though he should have never doubted. 
Not for one second.
Robin was silent only for a moment before she ran a hand up and down his back with a little sombre nod. “Remember. Will’s body was found in the Quarry.” She whispered back.
Steve didn’t have time to figure that one out, Robin was untangling herself from him with a sad smile.
“I’m so sorry, honey. I’ll tell the kids.” 
She turned his head to kiss him on the cheek and then gave him a light push back towards Wayne.
Steve leaned against the elevator wall and he stared down at the floor. The three of them were carried down in silence, but Steve’s mind was whirring.
Was Robin suggesting there might be a body down there?
A fake Eddie? Made to look dead?
But how could he tell? How would he be able to tell?
From what he’d heard, Will’s fake body was like a clone of him. Hopper had only been able to find out it wasn’t actually him by cutting into him.
There was no way he’d be able to get close enough to cut in. He probably wouldn’t even be allowed to touch. They might try to keep him at a distance. 
And there was no way to warn Wayne about what might be coming. 
The doors dinged open and Steve was out of time. 
Down another hallway and through another set of metal doors, there was already a gurney out in the centre of the room covered in a white sheet, the shape of a body clear as day underneath, like they had been expecting them.
Despite, despite Steve knowing in his bones that that wasn’t Eddie. That that wasn’t his boy under there, the sight still sent his heart lurching.
He could feel the apprehension crawling through his skin and he almost asked them not to show him.
There were two doctors standing by the doors, almost like sentries, big and bulky. Their lab coats were too small on them and they were watching Steve and Wayne like a pair of bouncers.
The doctor they had travelled down with looked to Wayne and with his nod of approval, pulled the top of the sheet back.
Dark curly brown hair spilled over the side of the table. Skin so pale it was almost white in death glared across at them and it was Eddie.
It looked… it looked just like him. 
Wayne took a shuddering breath in, took a step closer and was stopped by a hand on the shoulder.
“Hey man.” Steve snapped, far too loud in the cold metal room, unable to keep his own emotions out of his voice. Because what if he had been wrong? “That’s his family. Get your fucking hands off him.”
The ‘doctor’ holding Wayne back glared at Steve like he was ready to disappear him under a black bag. 
“It’s alright son-”
“No, it is not alright.” If Steve needed to create a scene to get them their way, then Steve was going to create a fucking scene. “Do you know who my father is?” He asked, all but sticking his nose up in the air.
The corner of Wayne’s mouth ticked up ever so slightly. It made Steve’s skin crawl to invoke the status of a man he couldn’t fucking stand, but he needed to do something.
Steve wrenched the doctor's hand from Wayne’s shoulder and he wouldn’t be surprised if he got punched in the face for it, he was almost expecting it but the doctor who had led them down here spoke up.
“It’s- it’s okay, Vince.” He said, a little panicked, like he hadn’t really planned this far ahead and didn’t really know what to do in the face of Steve’s tantrum.
Wayne seized upon the opportunity to take a step closer and Steve followed in his shadow.
He had to know. 
He had to know if that was really his baby lying on that cold and impersonal gurney.
Steve turned his back on the two guards and while the doctor they had come down with watched Wayne like a hawk as he reached a hand out to brush Eddie’s hair away from his face, Steve took his opportunity.
He kept his movements out of sight of the guards behind him, and kept them small enough so they wouldn’t draw the eye of the other doctor in front of him. 
He slipped one of Eddie’s fingers into his hand through the sheet and twisted.
It went easily. Twisting around on itself without any resistance. 
There was no bone in there.
It was like it was just full of cotton.
It wasn’t Eddie.
It wasn’t Eddie.
Steve closed his eyes and felt the tension drain out of him.
But then he heard a sniffle to his left. 
Wayne.
Fuck, how was he gonna tell him?
How was he gonna get him out of this room so they could go find his boy?
They were running out of time.
“I have to go tell the kids.” Steve muttered, with as much sympathy as he could. 
Wayne looked at him, his watery eyes searching, almost offended that Steve wasn’t more upset until it seemed to hit him that there was a reason for it. 
Wayne searched his eyes again, asking a million, million questions, but he must have eventually settled on some kind of trust because he gave Steve a short nod before looking back down at the fake body, his gaze a little angrier than it had been.
Steve didn’t waste a second, couldn’t waste a second.
He turned and left the room as calmly as possible but as soon as he was out of sight of the guards, he ran as fast as possible without creating too much noise.
The ride on the elevator back up to Eddie’s floor was excruciatingly slow, everything was taking too long. Why was everything taking so long?
Eddie had to still be in the building somewhere.
They wouldn’t have had the time to take him out of the hospital completely, they would have needed the people, they would have needed to be sure no one saw them move him down to the ground floor.
The elevator dinged and the doors had barely started to open before Robin threw herself in, furiously jabbing at the button to take them back down.
“Rob, what the-”
“Lucas saw an ambulance pull into the ambulance bay from the wrong direction and it looks brand new, not like any of our usual rust buckets. Jonathan’s got the car running with Argyle standing by. Dustin and Mike think they’ve found the room he’s being held in downstairs but it’s locked.”
“Not for long it’s not.” Steve growled and Robin grinned at him.
“Thought you’d say that.” She plunged her hand into her pocket and pulled out a handful of bobby pins. Steve was forever finding them lying around his car, she always had some on her.
“Perfect,” he said, taking them from her.
“I can’t believe this is how you’re finally gonna use the lockpicking skills Eddie taught you.”
“I can. It sounds like something out of one of his stories.”
Robin snorted and the doors opened. 
The hallway was thankfully deserted, except for Mike, standing at the end and waving them forward.
Steve and Robin followed him through the corridors until they ended up just outside the Ambulance Bay, Dustin hovering next to a closed door.
“In here, in here!”
“How do you know?”
“A nurse was talking to a janitor about why it was locked. He told her there were some chemicals being stored in there but you can’t store chemicals out here, there’s too many temperature variables and the weather-”
“That’s all we have to go off of?” Steve cut him off, but even so he still dropped to his knees and started to fit the pins into the lock.
“He’s in there, Steve. I know it. What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? Stop distracting me.”
“How do you know how to do that?”
“Enough questions, Roast Beef.” Robin pulled the brim of his hat down but then looked around and asked, “Where are the guards? Shouldn’t there be guards?”
“Erica had a seizure.”
“Erica had a what?!” Steve practically shouted, nearly losing his grip.
“Not a real one, obviously.” Mike sniffed. “But the guards were dressed as ambulance guys-”
“Ambulance guys.” Robin muttered.
“Yes. Ambulance guys and so they had to help. We screamed at them to help.”
Steve drowned them out, focusing all his attention on getting this fucking lock open. If it didn’t open in the next five seconds he was gonna break the fucking door down- 
He felt the lock catch and with a quick turn to the side, the door gave a little creak as it opened ever so slightly.
Steve was barely on his feet again before he burst into the room, being met with cold concrete and steel shelves and a hospital bed awkwardly wedged in between them all, no monitors, no tubes, nothing but a pale body lying in a thin hospital gown.
“Eddie.” Steve called, making his way across in less than two steps, bending down to scoop him up. He was fucking freezing and knocked out completely. “Eds?” 
He shook him just a little, hoping to get him to stir but Eddie didn’t stir, his head lolled against Steve’s arm and he was just dead weight. 
At least he was breathing.
“Is he okay?”
“Why isn’t he waking up?”
“Did they sedate him?”
He shoved his way out of the room, ignoring Dustin and Mike’s questions. 
“Where’s Jon parked?” He asked Robin, already heading towards the Ambulance Bay doors. “Can you take care of-” 
“We’ll get Wayne, we’ll get everyone else. He’s just around the corner.” Robin’s eyes went wide at the sound of footsteps running towards them. “Go!”
Steve took off. 
He’d thank Robin later, he owed her his life.
He clutched Eddie tight to him, shielding him, curved over him and nearly tripping over himself when he heard a door slam somewhere behind him and shouting echoing around him.
But then he saw the car.
Jonathan was behind the wheel and as soon as Steve turned the corner he started revving the engine, while Argyle threw the back door open, twisting over the passenger seat to get to it.
It was a little less than graceful, stuffing Eddie into the back seat and practically falling in on top of him as Jonathan took off, tearing out of the hospital with the door still open and Steve’s legs still hanging out. 
But they got away. 
They’d made it away.
For now.
Steve was able to pull himself fully inside, slamming the door closed behind him and cradling Eddie into his lap.
“Where am I going?!” Jonathan shouted back at him, one eye on the road, one eye in the rearview mirror.
There was no one following them so far.
“I don’t know! I don’t- The cabin!” Steve shouted back. “Get us to Hopper's cabin!”
“This is fuckin’ wild, dude.” Argyle whooped. “Born free!”
Eddie let out a soft little noise, rubbing his face into Steve’s shoulder and curling in on himself. His skin still felt like ice under Steve’s fingers.
“Stevie?”
Steve looked down at him, surrounding him as much as he could, rubbing up and down his arms trying to bring some warmth back in. “Yeah, it’s me baby. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”
Eddie hummed against his neck. 
“They stole me.”
“And I stole you back.” He pressed his lips against Eddie’s forehead. “I’m not letting anyone or anything take you from me.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“I don’t care. I couldn’t lose you. Not again. I couldn’t.”
Eddie grinned up at him. “You didn’t.”
“No,” Steve whispered back. “I didn’t.”
AO3
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.
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