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bloompompom · 1 year

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Playthings

One Shot

Pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader

Summary: okay, maybe you could admit you were a little sexually frustrated after a long semester, but it wasn’t your fault that you accidentally walked into the wrong room. and you’d only take some of the blame after you shamelessly came crawling back for more.

Word Count: ~6.8k

Content: explicit sexual content, explicit language, caught masturbating, casual sex, rough sex, dirty talk, porn watching, face fucking, some degradation and objectification, praise kink, quiet sex, panties as a gag, mentions of spit

all that to say, reader discretion advised. this is just a porno. if you were looking for plot, we don’t know her here

It started out normal, just like you had anticipated. Why wouldn’t it be normal? After all, it was just a regular, old Tuesday afternoon. The only thing that made it any more remarkable was that you didn’t have class today. Your professor was gracious enough—in her words, not yours—to cancel today’s session.

Her email included a not-so-gentle reminder, in bold lettering, that your presentations were due on Thursday. She hoped you’d all be smart enough to use this ‘found time’ to make any last-minute adjustments.

You would have much preferred to be dumb, at least by her standards, and squeeze in a nap, just like the rest of your classmates. But, no. You had to use this time to scramble to the finish line because just maybe you thought you had another week before it was due.

You weren’t entirely at fault, though. You were absolutely swamped with school with the end of the semester drawing near. It wasn’t just you, either. The other members of your group—four of you in total—were scraping the bottom of their reserves to try and finish this presentation. You all had other classes that called for more of your limited time and energy—you know, ones that actually pertained to your majors, none of which had anything to do with literature.

Who would have guessed that an introduction—extra emphasis on that word—to fiction class could be so much work? So much for your supposedly guaranteed easy A. It was a general elective, damn it! It served no other purpose than to tick that little box next to your degree requirement. Yes, I have three literature credits, and I read the books to prove it.

Well, half-read. Skimming, to put it nicely. Sorry, Wuthering Heights, for the bastardized synopsis that you were about to present.

All of which was to say, that was how you found yourself here, huddled together on this Tuesday afternoon, noses buried deep into your respective laptops, as you tried to put together a halfway decent presentation.

It was a warm day. You could tell even from inside. It was the kind of day where the sun clung to your body like a sheet, begging you to stay just a little longer to enjoy the afterglow. You wanted to listen, but you were forced to take turns lounging in front of the fan, stuttering as it only pretended to cool the room.

Your patience grew thinner by the minute, with every cramp and crack of your fingers and bead of sweat that threatened to drip down your back.

This semester, though almost over, was starting to feel like one of those classic scenes you’d find in horror movies. You know the scene: when the protagonist gets trapped in a closet-sized room that slowly fills with water. It was sort of like that, in which this dumb literature class had you gasping for your final breaths of air. And to top it all off, you had another group book report due. How old were you again?

“Sasha!”

You heard Jean hiss just across from you, interrupting the furious sound of clicking keyboards. You turned to look at him, past the coffee table that was decorated with empty energy drink cans and loose chips.

Sasha poked her head up from her laptop, looking innocent as Jean continued, “All your slides say, ‘Weathering Heights.’ Did you even read the book?”

“No, I didn’t! You know that!” she defended, sounding only slightly panicked.

You could see her edits as she made them, your eyes following across the screen. She corrected her slides to ‘Wuthered Heights,’ and you swore you could see the steam pouring from Jean’s ears. The only thing Sasha knew about any of your assigned readings was what she could find on Wikipedia—maybe less than that.

To your other side, Armin let out a lengthy sigh. “Let’s leave the editing to those that read the book. Okay, Sasha?” She looked defeated, even when he kept his voice soft, so he chipped in again. “Maybe you can… get us more snacks?”

That seemed to cheer her up enough. She offered him a salute and an, “On it, boss,” as she skittered off to the kitchen.

You had been sitting on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, for the last two hours, and your legs were starting to feel every minute of it. You extended them, one at a time, and listened to the embarrassingly-loud pop of your knees.

On that note, you planted your palms into the rug, pushing yourself to your feet as you asked Armin where to find the bathroom. He pointed you in the right direction, just down the hallway. With each step, you felt the stretch of your legs, and from behind, you heard Jean yelling again.

“You’re seriously ordering pizza?”

Even though you had only met them this semester, it was easy to guess he was scolding Sasha again. It was nothing more than happenstance that you sat next to them that day, the trio that seemed to know each other outside of class. When you were instructed to find groups of four, you were roped in with them in the chaos that was partnering up, always comparable to flocking birds.

You did well enough on that assignment, even with Sasha barely skating by, so you figured you might as well work on the next project together. They were the sort of people you could laugh—loud and hard—with, which probably explained why you were fussing over this presentation now, less than forty-eight hours before its due date.

First door on your right. That’s what Armin said, right?

No, that wasn’t what he said, actually. And you learned your mistake the hard way, too, immediately after opening the door.

Context clues alone, it was easy to guess that you didn’t walk into the bathroom. Of course, you didn’t walk into the bathroom. That would have been too easy, wouldn’t it? No, you walked into Armin’s roommate's room. You didn’t even know he had a roommate, let alone one you could walk in on, phone in one hand, his thing in the other. It didn't feel right to say it if you weren't supposed to see it.

“Oh my God, I’m—” You were so flustered you didn’t even utter the word ‘sorry’ before slamming the door shut again, which was probably for the best.

Your heart was pounding—you felt it echoing hard in your throat—when you looked just across the hall. The door was open and, lo and behold, it was the bathroom.Empty and dark.

You hid inside it, your back pressed against the door. You were mortified—hot with it, too. The apartment was already balmy with sticky spring air, leaving you flushed in all the wrong places as you debated running from the apartment, never to return.

You still had to pee, so you did that, spinning through every emotion all the while—like one of those ridiculously-large gameshow wheels you had to spin with both hands. Tick, tick, tick… tick. Suddenly, you were berating yourself. First door on the left. You’re such an idiot! Spin again. Tick, tick, tick… tick. The wheel stopped, and you shifted the blame. Shouldn’t he have known Armin had company over?

You stayed put on the toilet like there weren’t people waiting on you back in the living room. You were still thinking about him. That guy across the hall. What else were you supposed to think about? It wasn’t like you could go back out there as if it were still some regular, old Tuesday.

For obvious reasons, you didn’t see much of him. The image in your head was more like a photograph captured by a shaky hand. He was a blur of brown hair. White on top, black bottoms, cut in half by a tanned midsection that you only caught a glimpse of—right before he grabbed his blanket and you retreated to the bathroom.

If you thought hard enough—and embarrassingly, you did—you could see it again. See him again, with his hand wrapped around himself.

It was so wrong to think of him, a stranger, like that. There was a burning pit in your stomach when you thought of the indecency of it, fantasizing about someone in their most vulnerable state, without their permission.

You couldn’t help it, though. Just like how you couldn’t help the way your thighs clenched together the longer you thought about it.

The image you created in your mind was much lewder than what you had actually witnessed. While you couldn’t even pick his face out of a line-up, you still imagined his lips, how he’d bite into them as he pumped his cock through his climax. Toned legs, revealed by his pants that he had only tugged to his knees because, in the heat of it, he couldn’t be bothered to take them off fully.

You wiped again because you were getting shamefully wetter with every passing second. Then, for some insane reason, you felt the urge to apologize to him. Surely, that was the only solution to make this less awkward; you had yourself fully convinced of it for a split second.

You still didn’t know what came over you, but you pocketed your underwear before pulling your shorts back up. They almost didn’t fit, what with how small your shorts were, but you made it work.

You washed your hands, thinking that, admittedly, this wasn’t one of your brightest ideas. Your cotton shorts would unavoidably slip to the side if you were to return to your spot on the rug. But if this went the way you were hoping it would, you wanted to be thoughtful enough to grant easy access.

Then, if he needed a helping hand—pun intended—you would slip him your underwear, as if that were any less shameless than saying the words, ‘I would like you to fuck me now. If you’re interested, of course.’

It was in that same split second that you knocked on the door. The one just across the hall. The first door on the right. His door.

You wouldn’t call yourself naive, even in the slightest. You knew that by knocking on his door, you were risking the chance of something happening. What exactly, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t just have your panties shoved into your pocket for no good reason.

Your confidence started to wane, and it was quickly replaced by a sinking feeling. The timing was rather unfortunate, wasn’t it? It was as if the sound of your knuckles against the wood dragged you back to reality.

The door opened before you could even think of something to say. You should have had it planned out more, considering you spent the last five minutes contemplating your existence on the toilet. You were immediately consumed with how weird this was—how weird you had made it, just by showing your face again.

You found him a bit dazzling, looking up at him gave you the same feeling as when you stared into a bright light for too long. You blinked just the same, too, as if he had you seeing stars. Or you were going to pass out from humiliation.

It wasn’t like you were meeting under normal circumstances. You didn’t casually run into him at a bar, though you would have much preferred spilling your drink on him to whatever this was. You were only reminded of what happened when you noted that his cheeks were still stained pink. Whether it was from embarrassment or something else—like the telling blush of arousal—you weren’t sure.

All the same, he reduced you to nothing more than a moony teenage girl. You were fixed on his eyes. Green, but you were unable to distinguish the shade because you were lost in him again—the version of him you created in your head. You wanted to see if that version truly existed; how he’d look when he came from your touch instead of his own.

Your voice was mangled and lost in your throat. Like an opossum, it was just as if you had summoned him only to play dead at his feet. You tried not to crumble—swallowing your saliva that ran thick—even when he stuck his head out into the hallway, looking around as if he were on an episode of Punk’d.

He asked, “Is this some kind of joke?” to no one in particular, but he spoke like he really wanted to ask, ‘Where the fuck did this chick come from?’

“No, no!” you tried to assure him with the frantic wave of your hands. The flightiness in your voice only made you more nervous because now he knew you were nervous. You found just enough sense to introduce yourself, slowing your voice as you explained, “I’m working on a project with Armin.”

You could see it in his eyes, the fleeting second that it clicked for him. It didn’t last long, though. His brows were quick to furrow again because that still didn’t explain why you were here. Why you had just walked in on him—

“Can I come in?” you asked. You were looking for any sliver of reassurance in his answer. Something to help you decide whether or not you were going to hand him your panties.

This all sounded so absurd, didn’t it? Like something out of a bad porno—probably no different than the one you caught him watching.

He didn’t look sold on the idea, still eyeing you like this was all part of an elaborate prank. Even so, you could tell that, at the very least, his curiosity was piqued. He eventually stepped aside, holding the door open for you, like he had no other choice but to entertain the idea.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you said as you made your way inside. You heard him close the door behind you, and you tried not to infer any meaning from it. He walked past you, placing himself between you and the bed. “For earlier.”

“Okay.”

There was a prickle of awkwardness. You felt yourself shrinking when you muttered, “And for this, I guess.”

You couldn’t read his expression. It was like he wanted you to get out but also… not? He looked at you the way one would look at an abstract painting. Like he was trying to get you, as if you were open to his interpretation.

Then again, you did just show up at his door, practically begging for more after stealing only a glimpse at his cock. He probably found you desperate and, right now, you weren’t above admitting that you were.

He looked at you like he was still trying to figure you out, as if it were possible from just a single look. His eyes didn’t carry the same boredom they did when he first opened the door, and the pink sheen on his cheeks had disappeared, too, telling you embarrassment must have been its cause.

He surely didn’t look embarrassed anymore. He sat on the corner of his bed, one leg bent at the knee and resting beside him, and the other hanging off the side. It was like you were sharpening the image you had in your head the longer you looked at him. You could see now that he was dressed in a white tee—covering his midsection this time—and a pair of black basketball shorts. His brunette hair was messily tied back in a way that had you wondering if it was ever neat to begin with.

Something about the sight didn’t sit right with you, even if all the parts you wanted to see were covered and forbidden. It was the sort of look that was too intimate to be shared between strangers, and more like something that had to wait for a second date, at least.

But you weren’t sure why you were thinking like that in the first place.

Much to your dismay, you were still fidgeting. It made you sound even more squirrely as you said, “That’s it, I guess.”

You didn’t need to say it. You could have just excused yourself after your flimsy apology. But you were still interested—and only because you knew he was still interested. It was apparent to you because, from this angle, you could see he was still hard. There was no way he was wearing any boxers.

And just as poorly as he tried to hide it, you failed to hide the way you let your eyes linger there. It was hard—no pun intended this time—not to. There was a lot going through your head, but the most blaring sign, flashing in big lights, told you this was about to become the best mistake you had ever made.

It was only confirmed when he said, “I don’t know if you are.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t look very sorry to me.” His eyes, now darkened, looked you up and down, only once, like he was sizing you up. “How about you come here and show me just how sorry you really are.”

There was a newfound gravel to his voice. You could feel it in your chest, thumping just around your racing heart. It lured you to him.

He talked like he knew how to fuck, and you really, really needed a good fuck—as if it could unburden you from a semester’s worth of stress. Where else were you going to find such a sinfully hot guy, hard and already riled up, like he was put here just to (fingers crossed) fuck you senselessly into his mattress.

You thought of the underwear that was still in your pocket. Before you could decide what to do with it, he beat you to it, like he knew it was there all along. He gave you a smile, one that said he had only let you think you were in control.

'How silly of you,' was what it sounded like when he said, “That’s what I thought.”

He balled the dainty fabric in his hand before tossing it aside. He seemed much more interested in you—taking you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap. He was strong. You could tell just by the way he held onto you, like he could bend and break you if he pleased.

The strength in his hands alone was enough for you to brush off the cockiness in his voice. But even more, you felt how badly he wanted this—perhaps even more than you did—in his touch, like fire underneath his fingertips. Not that it surprised you, of course. He was the one fisting his cock not even ten minutes ago.

But now, it was like you had dropped straight from heaven and right into his lap, quite literally. And as you lowered yourself onto him, the heat between your legs pressed up against his cock, you caught the beautiful groan he let slip.

You ground against him helplessly, letting yourself feel every inch of him through his shorts. His hands, resting on the tops of your thighs, dug into the plush of them as he dragged you over him. It was enough to pull a whine from you—even louder once he placed a hand on your back, flattening against it to pull you into him. You collided, his mouth on your neck. He made quick work of the delicate skin like he knew exactly where you liked to be kissed and where he should bite.

He didn’t shush you, but it lurked in your mind that his friends were just on the other side of his bedroom wall. But he didn’t seem to care, even with all your whimpers as he continued kissing your neck. He stayed there for a long time before ever kissing your mouth. Not that you could complain. You were lost in the delirious feeling of his lips, hot and wet, trailing down the side of your throat, dipping down to the spot near your collarbone that had you squirming already.

You wanted your shorts off, but you knew it would be difficult from this position. He knew it, too, which was why he told you, “Stand up,” between his nibbles at your ear lobe.

You did as you were told and stood just between his legs. His hands smoothed over your hips, taking your shirt along with him. He was at eye level with your bare stomach, leaving kisses there. One at a time, he replaced his hands with yours, having you hold your shirt up for him. You watched as he slowly inched off your shorts, kissing everywhere—your stomach, your hip bones, your thighs—but the place you needed him most. When you felt your shorts at your ankles, he pulled you right back onto his lap, like he thought you belonged there.

The only thing separating you was his thin basketball shorts. You wanted to undress him next, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry, with his fingertips tickling up your thighs. He only stopped to slip a teasing finger along the crease. You giggled at it, and it was the first time he heard your laugh. The sound was swallowed up by him, the unexpected plush of his lips now on yours. You liked them better here—on your mouth.

He kissed with just as much passion as you imagined, with his hand—the one that wasn’t tickling between your legs—cupping your jaw. He held you close, his tongue brushing past your lips to meet yours. You were really lost in him now, your hips aimlessly searching for his fingers—for anything.

You separated an inch, just for him to whisper to you, “I want you to get yourself off on my fingers first.” He tilted his chin down with unspoken gentleness. In the same cadence one would use to ask for permission, he asked, “Can you do that for me?”

He waited for you to nod, looking more like a bobblehead because if he didn’t touch you soon you might die. He rubbed your clit with languid circles, watching how you twitched when he grazed over a certain spot. When he quickened his touch, you collapsed your weight into his chest. It left you in the prime position to bite down on his shoulder, just to stifle your moans, as he dipped a finger inside you.

Already, there was a bubble, as hot as an iron, brewing low in your stomach. You rolled your hips in rhythm with the pumping of his fingers—now a second one inside you—with the heel of his palm adding pressure perfectly against your clit.

You tossed your head back when you came, another cry escaping past your lips. It was loud enough that he finally reacted to it, silencing it only by shoving something soft into your mouth. When you opened your eyes again, you recognized the black fabric of your underwear.

You were still riding out your orgasm—drool soaking through your panties—or else you would have taken them from your mouth. Instead, you kept your hands occupied by digging the blunt of your nails into his arms, looking for any sense of stability before you went limp in his arms.

“You gotta be quieter than that if you want to come again,” he told you. You only acknowledged it with another needy whimper.

He held you upright in his lap before laying you on the mattress beside him, like you were nothing more than a plaything. But you were fine with that. You wanted to be his plaything, just for now.

You went to take the underwear from your mouth, but he stopped you just before with his hand around your wrist.

“Promise you’ll be quiet for me?” he asked, his voice dulcet. You nodded, again like a bobblehead, and he took the panties from your mouth. He let his thumb caress over your cheek as he said, “Good.”

He tugged his shirt over his head. You ogled at what you could before he crawled over you, placing a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up.

His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, following yours as you trailed your hand down the length of his body. You let them dawdle over his toned stomach before palming over his cock, which you hoped to see again very soon. You felt him twitch from just your hand alone, and it had you wondering how sensitive he’d be to your tongue.

When your fingers met the waistband of his shorts, you began shimming lower so you could take him into your mouth. He stopped you just short of freeing his length. You looked up at him, big-eyed and curiously, because what guy could possibly turn down a blow job?

He was back on his feet, towering over you as he stood at the side of the bed. He was quick to find his phone, and when he unlocked it, you heard the muffled sounds of whatever porn he had been watching.

You propped yourself onto your elbows to see whatever it was he wanted to show you. He took your interest as an okay to show you the screen. On it was a woman, stretched on her back, with her head dangling from the bed. There was a man fucking her throat, garbling her wanton moans as he fingered her.

“I want you to do it for me just like this,” he told you before throwing his phone aside. It was useless to him now; he had the real thing. His hands found you again, the warmth of your stomach. His fingers slipped higher underneath your shirt. “Think you can handle that?”

You were beyond turned on by the thought of him stroking himself to this video earlier. Now, here you were—once again, straight out of heaven—like you were made just to fulfill his fantasies. But, God, the thought of him ruining you had you aching.

You answered him by stripping from your shirt. Your bra next, undoing its clasp and tossing it aside, all in one swift motion. You would gift him with the lovely sight—your body in its entirety—as you sucked him off.

But before that, he wanted you. Just a little taste.

He leaned over you, kissing between your breasts and everywhere else that he could. You felt the heat of his breath on your nipple, just before he took it into his mouth. His tongue was hot as he flicked at it, sucking until he had your back arching, with mewls spilling from your lips.

He kept you there, only for a moment, and only long enough that he could leave his mark on you. When he was finally satisfied with the number of love bites he had decorated you with, he rolled you around until you mimicked the woman in the video, your mouth gaping for him and everything. You even lolled your tongue out, eager to please a man you had just met—more importantly, a man that just made you come and planned to do so again very soon.

One of his hands was at your face, his fingers gently caressing the soft skin beneath your chin. He ran his thumb over your tongue, letting you give it a coquettish lick. He used his other hand to yank down his shorts, all the way off this time.

You were right when you guessed he wasn't wearing boxers. His cock sprung out, nearly slapping his abdomen, before he took it in his hands. He pumped himself twice, and when he lined himself up with your mouth, you wondered if it was the angle or if you were truly going to struggle to take him fully.

He ran the tip over your lips. You wetted them for him, making it easy for him to slip into your mouth. He groaned at the feeling—even sharper when you hollowed your cheeks around him, and that was only the head. He was just as sensitive as you had hoped.

You could feel his restraint when he pushed deeper into your throat, like he was painfully aware of the fact that you were completely at his mercy. You encouraged him, offering a few moans with every thrust. He used the first few as a test, like he wanted to make sure you could really take it, then he pulled out of your mouth with a conspicuous popping sound. There was even a cliche string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“Fuck—that’s so hot,” he muttered, his voice so raspy that it was almost missing. It was the first break in his composure, along with the shudder he let rip through his body.

You met his eyes again, staring up at him as you patiently wait for him to give you more. He rewarded your obediency by ramming his cock back into your mouth, gaining speed with every rock of his hips. It only took a couple more before you felt him at the back of your throat.

“I knew you could—ah—do it for me, pretty girl.” His voice was encouraging, like you could hear the swell of his heart. It was sweeter than any sonnet, having you melt even as he fucked your face until you felt tears pool at the corners of your eyes.

It was clear he was loving it, with how his hands went heavy as he slid them down your stomach. How his abs went tight every time you gagged on his cock. Even from upside down, with loose hairs casting over his lidded eyes, you still found him beautiful.

What a strange thing to say, considering he continued to brutalize your swollen mouth. All the same, he had you rubbing your legs together as if you were in heat, but it only left your thighs sticky with your slick.

He leaned over you, helping you out by reaching between your legs in search of your clit again. You heard him curse again, just under his breath. Whether it was from your cries—suffocated by his cock—or just how wet you were for him, you weren’t sure. The only thing you knew was that if he kept this up, you were bound to come undone again any second.

He must have felt it, too, because all at once, he pulled out from your mouth. It left you coughing like you suddenly remembered how to breathe again. Still, you mourned the loss of his fingers.

He caught the pout on your lips. It shouldn’t have made him smile, but it did, even as he teased, “Such a needy one, aren’t you?” He ran his fingers over your mouth like he could wipe away the frown. “You’re far too precious to suffocate.”

You whined at that, and you would have found it embarrassing if you weren’t so desperate, practically begging him to fuck you—now—with the kittenish way you rolled around until you were on your back.

Your eyes followed his hand as it reached into the drawer of his nightstand. He retrieved a condom and tore open its package, his attention never leaving you once. He looked pleased by it—your eagerness—how you spread your thighs only to keep him caged between, with your legs draped over the side of the bed. The smile at the corner of his lips still hadn’t faded.

You could only watch him, mesmerized as he rolled the condom over his length—impressive enough that you felt proud to have had all of it down your throat just a moment ago.

He knew you were there to give him exactly what he wanted. And when he cajoled you with, “Hold them for me—like this,” he knew you’d listen.

He lifted each of your thighs and pressed them into your chest. With your knees nearing your shoulders, you knew what to do next. You wrapped your hands around the backs of your legs and held them in place for him.

“That’s it,” he cooed, taking you by the waist and setting you farther back onto the bed. “Look how pretty.”

He walked his hands up either side of you until crawled onto the bed, hovering just above you with his weight shifted back to his knees. He guided himself to your entrance with one hand, letting the tip of the condom slip between you, teasing your clit just enough to have you pull in a harsh breath through your nose.

“So fucking pretty—” He pushed himself inside you. There was little resistance, like you had turned to putty and were somehow able to mold yourself to take him perfectly. Your head pressed deeper into the mattress, with him kissing up the expanse of your leg, just above your ankle. “—and all for me.”

You felt him flush against you, his pelvis grinding against your clit in just the right way. You fought the urge to lock your legs around him to keep him there, your voice nothing more than a whisper when you begged, “Fuck—don’t stop.”

He took you then. Madly, recklessly, agonizingly—whatever you wanted to call it—it was a frenzied mess of limbs and lips, sweat and sheets, flesh and groans. It was all of the best parts of being tangled up in someone. You wanted him, every bit of him, to taste and to touch, as if he wasn’t already as close to you as humanly possible.

He groaned in your ear, his breath fanning the side of your face. Like he could read your thoughts, he told you, “I want to feel you.” He dragged his cock from you, slowly, then punctuated his next statement with the snap of his hips, forcing you even higher onto the bed. “I want to fuck you raw.”

The words alone were enough to have you teetering over the edge again, but you were practically a babbling mess at the sound of his voice—all strangled as he nearly begged for it. The only thing you could manage now was a breathless chant of please, please, please.

After the third one, he looked at you more seriously. You found it cute, how his brows hung pensively over his eyes. It was much more boyish and suited his face more. “Birth control?”

You still didn’t have enough oxygen in your lungs to form anything more than, “The pill.”

“Clean?” he asked next. He sat back on his knees, waiting until you nodded. “Me too.”

Only then did he roll off of you. He moved to sit on the bed with his back to the headboard. Even after all that, his arms were still steady as he lifted you. In one swoop, you were back on his lap—so effortlessly that he had you believing you belonged there now, too.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you pulled him to your chest because you missed having his lips there. He didn’t fight it, letting his tongue and lips and teeth explore every inch of you, his face smushed in your tits.

You let him continue long enough for him to ditch the condom. You reached down, stroking him a few times with your hand. He reacted to it—what a gift it was that there was nothing separating you again—with a hard inhale just through his nose.

You held him at the base to guide his cock inside you. As leisurely as one would stroll through the park—as if you had all the time in the world to stop and smell the roses, wait for every groan that bubbled at the back of his throat—you sank onto his cock. It gave way for another break in his cool composure.

You watched it as it happened—the very look, right as it skipped across his irises. It was followed by a breathless sound, one that lived somewhere between a chuckle and gasp, that slipped past his slack-jaw smile.

You couldn’t help but smile, too, thinking he looked drunk off the feeling—even more once you sat high again only to crash back onto him. Then again, and again. Quicker and quicker, until you were bouncing on his cock with your hands flattened against the headboard for support.

He reached a different angle in this position, deeper, and it had you almost trembling above him. He let you continue to use him, anyway you wanted, admiring where he disappeared inside you.

As if you weren’t the one controlling your fingers, you let your hand slip between your legs to aid your release. You felt all your blood rush to your face, flooding you with sweltering heat, and it became a challenge to keep your hips from sputtering.

Your only focus was on your high—like you had become dumb to anything else—and it was quickly approaching. Your shaky breaths melted into choked sobs just as he pushed two fingers, index and middle, into your mouth.

He pressed down on your tongue. “You don’t want them to hear you like this, do you?”

You looked at him, eyes wide and dedicated only to him, as you sucked his fingers instinctively. He smirked at you when he said, “Pathetic, little thing.”

You came again. Your orgasm crashed over you, with every muscle shaking and tensing before you could barely even hold yourself up anymore.

His finger left your mouth. They were wet, dribbling spit along your cheek, as he held your face in his hand. He turned you to look at him when he said, “What do you say?”

Almost like you had said it a million times before, you didn’t hesitate to murmur, “T-thank you.”

He hummed, “You’re such a good toy.”

He sunk down into the bed, his head now on the pillows. He grabbed your hips with bruising force, just before you could fall pliant over him. As if to say, ‘Now it’s my turn,’ he held you still while he fucked up into you, his feet planted firmly into the mattress.

He couldn’t stop your sounds this time. They spilled freely from you, even as you bit your lip so hard you must have drawn blood, still sensitive from your orgasm as he pounded into you. It nearly had you seeing stars, like you were blind from the pleasure of letting him have you.

He was close, you could hear it in his erratic breaths just before he grunted, “You gonna let me come in you? Shit—you want me to fill you up?”

“Yes—” you whined.

“Yes, what?”

“I want you to come in me—please!”

He didn’t let up. His thrusts were still just as unrelenting as he looked up at you sardonically. “You wanna go back out there with my come dripping from you?”

All you could too was give him a slurred, ‘hmmph!’

“So dirty. You’re gonna make a mess of yourself.” He snapped his hips a few times like he could bury even deeper into you. It brought out a certain gruff in his voice as he told you, “Don’t think that I’m giving back those panties.”

It took just one more buck of his hips, hitting just the right spot, for him to nearly knock out your last breath. You collapsed onto him, your bodies sticky with sweat, as you nestled your face into the crook of his shoulder. You were within perfect earshot of listening to his sharp grunts as he came.

His last few thrusts were languid. Long and slow strokes like he wanted to draw out the feeling. You couldn’t even open your eyes, let alone hold onto a single coherent thought, before you whispered, “Thank you.”

The thought of you thanking him for his come pulled another groan from him. You felt his cock jolt inside you. If he hadn’t just given you everything he had, you were sure he’d be hard again.

You didn’t know where your clothes were, and you couldn’t be bothered to care. You laid beside him, each of you on your backs, with chests as heavy as anvils as you gathered your tattered breaths.

You looked over at him, and he was already looking back at you. It was a moment of stillness. His eyes weren’t as dark as they once were—sort of like he was a different person. You couldn’t help but think he looked perfect like that.

He sounded different, too. Almost embarrassed. You heard it in the hint of a chuckle he offered, just at the end, when he asked, “What did you say your name was again?” You gave him your name, and he repeated it once to himself. “Got it. I’ll remember that for next time.”

“Next time?”

“You think I’m gonna fuck you like that then just let walk out of my life? No fucking way.” That smile was back—the big one he showed you when you learned he liked when you sat on his cock slowly.

You laughed a little, mirroring some of his bashfulness, as reality started to sink in. You finally confessed, “I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s Eren.”

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut

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mulberrysilk · 1 year

Text

Lavender Haze

Urahara Kisuke x f!succubusreader

Summary: The vacant house next to Urahara's shop no longer remained empty as a pretty girl moves in. Was he obsessed with the girl next door? Maybe. But how could anyone blame him when you looked so delectable? Plus, he made sure to keep an eye on you, something about your reiatsu was different too...He's just being a good neighbor, that's it! He didn't expect to find out that you were more than just his beautiful neigbour...

cw: eventual smut, inspired by that line in the Chainsaw Man scene, low-key Urahara is stalkery, reader is a succubus, unprotected seggs, reader has succubus form which is small horns, wings and tail, oral(male receiving), creampie, Urahara is in love with his succubus lover, talks of reiatsu you know bleach stuff

wc: 8.2k ( she’s a long one y’all)

a/n: thought this was gonna be normal nasty smut with the normal girl next door. Turns out I made she's a succubus. ADHD brain go bRRRr.

Easily he recalled the Summer when he first met you. He had woken up past the eleventh morning hour, just in time for Tessai to return with items to stock in the store. It was the 4th Sunday of the month. The date where they routinely stocked the store with not only shinigami goods but snacks, drinks, and other convenience store items. He had wondered why there was a moving truck parked in front of the small humble house that neighbored his shop. For years it has been empty. The last owner was this little old lady who sadly passed some time ago. He was used to it being empty so it was only normal that he got curious about who would be living right beside him and his dear employees.

Opening his fan, he cooled himself from the coming afternoon heat and casually stood by the fence, the branches of the trees and their leaves, concealed his wandering eyes. Fanning himself and keeping his eyes hidden by his bucket hat, he searched for the person who was going to be his neighbor.

Out from the back of the truck in a baby pink tank top, denim shorts, and white sneakers, you appeared like those girls in the movies. The girl next door. He really thought those things were just a thing in the fictional world of movies, he didn't expect it to be happening right in front of his eyes. Was he in a movie right now? He pushed the ridiculous thought away and focused on you. He watched as you unloaded the truck with cardboard boxes that contained your belongings and shamelessly ogled the skin revealed to him due to the summer heat.

From your side profile, he could tell just how pretty you were. Your cheeks were flushed from the heat and your skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, making your tank top cling to your body even more, hugging your curves and reminding him of those models in summer magazines. Was he dreaming?

He didn't even know how long he had been staring but he remembered you went in and out of the front door twice, and the heap of cardboard boxes by the pavement doesn't seem to have lessened.

“You know, if you want to make advances toward her, my tip is for you to offer to help her move the boxes.” Tessai’s deep voice sounded behind him, startling the former shinigami.

“Tessai! When did you—advances? I’m merely…looking.” He brought his fan to cover the lower half of his face, a little flustered to be caught. He was so distracted he didn’t notice his friend’s presence.

“You look like a stalker.” A haughty younger voice commented.

Urahara flicked Jinta on the forehead, who was actually looking at you too.

Meanwhile, little Ururu approached you and politely asked if you needed help. The three males hid behind the safety of the concrete fence watching as she talked to you. You smiled at the young girl and their hearts fluttered. Ururu then pointed in their direction and your eyes followed where she was pointing. Squinting your eyes, you could make out two tall figures and a smaller one.

The three of them froze, caught like a deer in headlights.

You waved prettily in their direction as a short greeting before Ururu and you moved your stuff inside.

“You like her.” Jinta teased Urahara.

“Nonsense. I know nothing about her.” He played it off coolly, fanning himself.

“You know that she’s your neighbor now and that she’s attractive.” Tessai backed up the kid, Urahara mocked an expression of betrayal as his friend took Jinta’s side.

“We shall be good neighbors to her and nothing more.” Urahara snapped his fan shut before returning to the air-conditioned confines of his shop. Although he said what he did, he was sure he was going to see a lot of you, and should the opportunity arise that he could flirt.

Just harmless flirting. He told himself.

If only he could take back his words.

As the summer progressed, you settled into your little home and he caught you most of the time when you were coming home from wherever you’ve been but on the weekends, he would have a full view of you in your backyard, tending to the herbs and vegetables you grew at home. With the heat, you’d be in shorts most of the time and it was paired with either a tank top or a sports bra. The two of you only ever acknowledged one another silently, not having the chance to speak to each other formally but he wasn’t going to rush things. Sometimes he thinks it’s better off this way. To just look and don’t touch. It was painful in certain ways for him because, like other men, he too had his own needs and desires.

One afternoon changed everything.

It had been so hot, the air conditioning in his shop wasn’t enough to fight the heat. He had brought out extra fans to make it better and the more he stared at the frozen items box, the more he wanted to just stick his face inside to feel relief.

The door to his shop slid open and in you came. Your back was against the light that shined as you entered and it made you glow. He felt a hint of warmth collect in his abdomen when you smiled softly at him. Your shoulders and collarbones were exposed as you wore a sundress with thin straps. It was shorter than most sundresses, it came up to your mid-thigh, not that he was complaining. It cinched perfectly at your waist and the fabric of the skirt flowed and swished with every movement. God, you were absolutely delectable today.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my new neighbor. How may I help you?” He plastered on his shopkeeper facade.

“I was hoping to find ice cream.” You clasped your hands behind you and raised your shoulders in a cute way. “It’s too hot these days and I’m working from home, so I thought, ice cream would be nice.”

“Good for you, I do have ice cream and an assortment of sweets if that’s to your fancy.” He gestured to the freezer.

“Thank you.” You grinned before going to make your ice cream selection. “So…um…I know I just moved in. I’ve met Ururu who told me she works here and I feel a little rude that I haven’t introduced myself to you yet.” You made small talk, eying the variety of ice cream flavours.

“Oh?”

You introduced yourself properly, telling him your name, and extended your thanks to him for how Ururu helped you move in.

“She’s really strong for her age.” You said, finally choosing an ice cream flavour. Strawberry.

“That she is. Would you be so kind as to also get me a piece?” He asked before you made your way to the counter.

“Oh, sure. What flavour?”

“Same as yours.”

At the counter, you reached inside your little purse to pay but he spoke. “It’s on the house this time, cutie.”

Your heart jumped at the nickname. Heat collected in your cheeks and you murmured your thanks. Somehow instead of leaving, you found yourself sitting next to him in the air-conditioned living room of his house, eating ice cream and having a pleasant conversation. His company was nice and you had to admit you were proud to have made a friend out of your neighbour….attractive neighbour.

Kisuke felt the same too but he had felt the need to keep you around because he was surprised by the spiritual pressure a human like yourself had. He was curious to know if you were some special being or merely a human who will bait hollows and other entities your way. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were some special being with how endearing and magnetic you were. But if you were merely a human with such energy…well, he felt the need to protect you. It didn’t help that he was so willing because he had developed a crush, obsession? Whatever people these days called it. He just knew he wanted you in every way possible but of course, he had to be a gentleman.

“What brought you to Karakura?”

“Was looking at listings and this place was up for rent at a really good price, plus it’s an easy commute to the city and it’s quiet.” You replied, suckling at the strawberry popsicle.

“Quiet? You running away from a boyfriend or something?” He playfully suggested, sneakily asking if you were taken or not. Not that it would be a problem.

“Something like that.” You murmured and his eyes widened a little but then you broke into a smile. “I’m just kidding!”You laughed. “Have you always been a shop owner?”

“Nope.” He answered you truthfully and you tilted your head.

“Oh?”

“It’s complicated but basically, I was expelled from my past occupation.”

“Expelled? Did you do something bad?” Your gaze never left him.

“To them, yes but in my eyes, I failed at what I had to do. So I came here and decided to be a shopkeeper.” He grinned at you, making light of the topic and you gave him a small smile.

“Quite the interesting man you are.” You giggled before having another taste of your ice cream, unaware of the eyes that clouded like a storm at the way your lips wrapped at the tip of the pink iced treat. Taking a bite of his treat, he couldn’t help but wonder how soft your lips might be against his skin, his lips, or his—

“Oi! Urahara!” The shoji door slid open, the cool air from the air conditioning escaping the confines of the living room. Urahara internally sighed at his disrupted thoughts.

Your head casually turned to the unfamiliar voice and stood by the door was someone you’ve never met before. He stared at you and you stared at him, your brows furrowed as he continued to stare for quite some time. His teddy bear brown eyes looked you up and down, taking in the view of an attractive stranger with an ice lolly between her lips and the pretty summer dress she wore. Pink dusted his cheeks before he turned his attention to the man seated not too far from you.

“I-I need to talk to you!” Orange haired boy demanded, masking his fluster.

“Kurosaki-kun, as you can see I have a visitor,” Kisuke responded and you waved your hand.

“It’s okay. I can go.” You told the two men, the urgency in Kurosaki’s eyes told you that it was important and something not to be shared with others. It’s not your problem nor did you care to know what it was.

“Thanks for the ice cream, Kisuke.” You chimed happily, sending a wink his way, and it felt like an arrow went straight into his heart. “I’ll see you around.”

So cute. He thought to himself, a little disappointed you had to go but he must admit watching you walk past Ichigo on your way out, was a pretty view that made up for your leaving. He thanked whatever designer made your dress at such a perfect length. One that wasn’t too short to explicitly tempt and not too long to bore. It was just the right length that created tension, that made Urahara wonder how pretty it would be to bunch the fabric up to reveal more of your thighs.

Once the front door shut telling them of your departure, Ichigo turned to the man still sitting and halfway done with his ice cream.

“Who was that?”

“My neighbor.” Urahara sighed with a smile that Ichigo couldn’t read but made him narrow his eyes at the playfully crafty man. “So, what is it that you need to tell me so badly that you disturbed my precious time with my pretty neighbor?”

Urahara wouldn't say he was a stalker. Maybe if anyone did see him, they'd think that's what he was doing. But he was merely watching you from the comfort of his home. It wasn't his fault his bedroom upstairs looked directly into your bedroom. He'd like to think fate was tempting him, giving him signs that your paths were meant to constantly cross.

It was definitely a game of fate because there were times the curtains were closed and days when they were left drawn apart. It’s not like he waits for you to show up or anything, there were just some instances where he’d see you going to bed in those cute pyjamas of yours. He liked in particular the pink ones or the white and pink shorts ensemble.

Tonight though, he could see you again. Lying on your stomach with a bunny plushie cradling your chin while you read a book, your legs swung in the air, the air conditioner in full blast with how hot the weather had been. This lovely night's choice of sleepwear was a white cotton tank top paired with white frilly shorts. His eyes ran along the length of your legs, wondering how smooth your thighs might be.

Your presence in his life was constant and honestly was a breath of fresh air from all the hollow and shinigami issues that come and go. He would even say you two had become close friends. Small exchanges became him coming over to fix stuff when you need it or you going over to the shop with sweets or pastries from the city. If you had a watermelon to beat the heat, you’d share it with him.

Despite this blooming friendship, Urahara was plagued with thoughts that made his stomach warm and crave you like a wolf hungry for prey. It didn’t help that you had also become the subject of his wet dreams that had always made him wake up in a mess, sweating and he even felt like he didn’t get enough sleep….was he being a bad neighbour?

And could you blame him for the shock and dumbfounded look on his face when you, one searing hot afternoon, asked him? “So do you wanna do it?”

Your voice was soft as your head lay against the pillow of your bed, the two of you had escaped to your room after he had helped you hook the sound system to the tv. The air conditioner was on full blast and the cold air being pushed out was the only sound in the silence between you two.

Urahara sucked in a breath, and doing so made the overwhelmingly sweet scent of your sheets, of you, too much. Pheromones was it? “Do what?” He calmly grinned, not letting his composure falter.

You shifted in your position, stretching a little then leaned your head on your extended arm, locks of your hair cascading over your face and that delicate curve of your neck. Your eyes appeared sleepy as if you had some sake to drink and had gotten tipsy, it was alluring, it was…seducing. Was he dreaming again?

The summer sun glared at him and his eyes adjusted and searched for your face, finding first your glossed pink lips. “Fuck.”

Now he really was at a loss for words. He felt like who he used to be over a hundred years ago when he had become Captain. Easily flustered, nervous, and unsure of himself. “W-what?”

The sun got into his eyes again.

When they adjusted this time, your hands rested on either side of his head and you were looking down at him, meeting his gaze as your hair fell around you. The warm orange hue of the sun kissed your skin and made you and your hair glow. He could even feel the warmth of your skin as you leaned over him, so close.

“I think you heard what I said.” You purred, throwing a leg over his hip. Urahara swallowed the lump in his throat again. Was he dreaming? Oh, god, was he dreaming?! His dreams even felt as real as this. It was hard to tell.

He didn’t dare move a finger scared that if he touched you, you’d disappear. Even when you straddled him with your cool palms against his chest. He laid still.

Your eyes never left him and he wondered if he had imagined the pink glow that flashed in your irises when you batted your lashes and pushed apart the lapels of his samue.

A finger traced along his center, from the crevice between his two collarbones down his chest and to his abdomen. “What’s wrong?”You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you cooed sickeningly sweet. “Why are you so still?” You toyed with the strings of his pants. He swore to himself. Blood was rushing down to his groin and it didn’t help that your ass was pressed against it. There was no way you couldn’t feel him harden against you.

You raised your head a little, pushing his bucket hat up in the process to remove the shadow he hid behind. His eyes couldn’t stay in one place. It jumped from your eyes, the gentle tempting smile of your lips and the sight of your cleavage as your shirt dipped low, soft breasts in their lacy bra cups,

“Y/N-chan….” He sounded as if he was warning you.

“I’m not playing any games with you, Kisuke.” You said, sliding your hands from his shoulders and then to his hands, guiding them to your waist. “Am I?”

“I think you are playing a dangerous game,” he spoke, feeling your waist, internally groaning at the fact he was touching you, really touching you.

“Awe,” you cooed, pouting your lips mockingly. “Are you nervous?” You were teasing him now, cradling his wrists and sliding them higher til they cupped your breasts.

“Aren’t you?” He managed to say, fighting the urge to squeeze your breasts through your shirt, he could already feel just how soft they were.

You shook your head, your resting smile unfaltering as you continued to splay your fingers on his exposed chest, running them up and down sensually slow you could feel the goosebumps on his skin form.

You cupped his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb. Each contact made a shivering delightful feeling bloom on his skin and the intensity of your gaze melted him further and further as if it was pulling him under a spell.

The feeling intensified when you leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, and god, his neck. Urahara moaned softly, the heat of your lips and the slight nibble of your teeth on his sensitive skin was like another sip of exquisite saké.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He lowered his hands to your hips, grabbing the flesh as he rolled his hips upwards for so much needed friction. The feeling made you giggle. That sound was like a siren song.

“Maybe.” You said with a smile he could feel against his skin before you continued to kiss along his neck. A sensual roll of your hips and his eyes shut momentarily at the feeling. “I can tell you’re enjoying this.”

He was. He was thoroughly enjoying this, the heavy petting, the kissing, and the closeness of your bodies. This experience was different. He felt all too consumed in your aura, your presence, and your touch. It was intoxicating. He wondered if this was normal. If the dreams, the way you took up all his thoughts and now your very touch, were all still of the human world.

Before he could even question and remind himself of your spiritual energy, your lips stopped their delicious kisses and you straightened your back. You reached for the hem of your shirt and peeled it over your head, your hair tousled by the removal. Staring at you felt surreal. It was almost psychedelic. Your body was the only figure that was clear while everything else other than you was fuzzy and blurred.

“I’m gonna ask you again, Kisuke.” Your voice traveled smoothly in both his ears, echoing in his head. He swore there were pink symbols in your irises right now. His eyes were locked on yours, there was no denying it. “Do you…” you pressed your naked breasts against his chest, their softness against his muscles making him painfully hard. “…want…”. You kissed his cheek. “…to…” then the corner of his lips, so dangerously close. He gripped your hips, hard enough to leave marks. You were driving him crazy. You hovered your lips over his, barely touching. “…fuck?”

You didn’t have to ask him again.

A rough hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you down to finally, finally, kiss you.

Oh, he tasted sweet. So sweet. You could feel his beautiful spiritual energy seep under your skin. You were right to have chosen him. Even though you moved here to start anew, you didn’t expect to meet someone like him. You didn’t know what he was exactly but his spiritual energy had you weak in your knees. It flowed bountifully like a waterfall. It was strong too which meant you wouldn’t need much to keep your capabilities base level.

You were giddy and thrilled to have found him.

This was not normal. Urahara thought as he kissed you with such hunger. His lips moved in tandem with yours, fighting for dominance and easily winning it. He thought your touch was intoxicating? Your lips were far more dangerous. They were downright hallucinogenic. It was as if they were laced with a poison that seeped immediately into his system that made the depraved lust he had for you, increase a thousandfold.

This was definitely not normal.

Your spiritual energy was increasing too, it felt like a weighted velvet blanket on his body, getting heavier and heavier. Not heavy, almost, joining with his? How was this possible?

Thinking wasn’t easy, not when he had the beautiful neighbour he’s been dreaming and fantasising of on top of him. His hands moved on their own, feeling and tracing your curves, cupping your soft breasts, and feeling their weight against his palms. This was better than he imagined you felt. It couldn’t compare.

Urahara pulled away to catch his breath. His chest rose and fell quickly while you kissed the spot on his neck that you had marked before and lowered yourself, leaving kisses along his chest and his abdomen. His breath hitched when he felt your chin brush the hem of his pants. His eyes snapped open to look down and were met with dark clouded eyes staring prettily up at him, lashes fluttering with each blink.

“Watching me from your bedroom isn’t enough is it?”

You knew? Fuck. For how long?

“You caught me,” he chuckled, petting your head adoringly. “No point in lying to you, is there?”

You shook your head with a sly, cheeky smile. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kisuke.” You untie the strings to his pants, the hem loosening easily. “Have you thought about this?”

His breath got caught in his throat. Your hand pressed against his erection through the fabric. “Y-yes. C’mon, sweetheart. Don’t tease me. I thought you weren’t playing any games with me?”

“I’m not.” You shimmied his pants down along with his boxers, cock springing freely from the constraints of the fabric.

Urahara hissed when the cool air kissed the leaking head of his cock. Was he always this sensitive? Before he could say anything, your tongue licked a stripe along his length, dreamy eyes staring up at him with lust. You enjoyed his reactions. He looked so pretty like this, cheeks flushed, eyes droopy with desire, and hair all tousled. You continued your ministrations, running your tongue once more at his perfectly sized length before kissing the cute pink head of his cock, the precum already making your senses vibrate crazily.

Like you had suckled on the strawberry popsicle the first time he had you over, your lips wrapped prettily around him, your tongue hot against his cock as you swirled it over his sensitive head.

“Keep going, sweetheart. F-fuck,” he softly moaned out. His words encouraged you and the gentle brush of his thumb along your brow made you happily take him deeper. His fingers tighten in your hair as he groaned in bliss. He was hot and heavy against your tongue, and the natural condition of your entity enjoyed the musky taste of him.

Urahara’s fantasies were incomparable to this. He was already losing his mind at the hot warmth of your mouth and the rhythmic bobbing of your head along his cock. A sharp delightful shiver ran up and down his spine when he felt his tip touch the back of your throat, you gagged cutely and he looked down at you to make sure you were okay. He was brought immediately closer to the edge when he drank in the sight of your glossy eyes staring up at him with an adorable furrow of your brows. This was far better than he imagined.

His moans left him freely, and his hand on your head continued to pet you as he felt the tension in his spine tighten. You could feel yourself get wetter just at the sight of him. Touching him and finally pleasuring him, was heightening your sensitivity. The ache in your core was painfully sweet and you couldn’t help but moan around his length, completely aware of how the vibrations affected him.

Urahara swore under his breath, unable to hold back the following thrusts of his hips as his orgasm bursts through his body. He felt as if broke through the cottony haze he had been under, only to sink right back in and further down once more. He could feel the way your tongue moved as he remained still inside, and the movement of your throat as you swallowed his cum with your eyes shut in bliss. What an obscene picture.

He felt your spiritual energy increase again. The little clarity he was able to gather after climaxing helped give his brain enough time to form full thoughts and assess the situation.

Watching you pull back, you detached yourself, cock slipping from your lips with a soft pop. You licked along your lips with a satisfied smile, like a cat who just got the cream. Which you kinda …did. The way you glowed intensified, and your aura had completely changed.

“You’re not human aren’t you?” He caught his breath, analysing his senses. It wasn’t a question that he needed an answer to.

“You’re not human too.” You simply answered back, climbing on top of him. His cock, half hard, slotting between your warm slit.

“You’re feeding off my reiatsu.”

“Something like that,” you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his. “I can’t exactly feed off just any kind of reiatsu.” You slowly rocked back and forth, Urahara feeling the wetness of your pussy coating him. His hands gripped yours, his eyes rolling back at the heat of your folds. God, he wanted to be inside you.

“Sexual reiatsu then?”

“Mhm.” You hummed, gasping when the tip of his cock caught at your entrance. You lifted your hips a little higher. “S-something like tha—.” You cut off with a moan as you sunk down a little, taking in the head of his length. He felt better than you could ever imagine.

Urahara felt that at this moment, he had more control than you did. Your fingers were squeezing him, your thighs were quivering with need and your face, your pretty face, was trying so hard to focus. You looked as if you were losing all resolve, completely crumbling apart with lust. He watched you intently, refusing to miss a single thing as you sank down on him, taking him into your tight, velvety heat that‘s got him aching hard again.

Bottomed out, your head fell forward. You took a couple of breaths as you allowed yourself time to adjust. It has been a while since you’ve laid with anyone, you almost hated yourself for tearing away the euphoric feeling of connecting your body to someone. Even so, with him, it was different. You didn’t just want to have him once and leave it at that. You wanted to have him. Completely. God, his reiatsu feeding yours was overwhelming. You could cry at how good he feels.

His voice pierced through the rapturous screaming of your body. He said your name so sweetly. That gentle and teasing coo of your name that had you weak in the knees.

“Look at me.”

Without a second thought, you did as he said. His larger hands squeezed yours in a reassuring manner and you felt as if your heart was going to burst at that action. You met his gaze, the once dwindling remnants of your energy almost fully replenished after months. Urahara was met with the pink pattern in your irises in full glow. Everything but you was a blur of colours. The effect your being had on him was akin to a drug that heightened every pleasurable sensation and kept you and him in a haze of warm lavender.

If his assumptions were correct, then he was one lucky and unfortunate bastard.

“Show me who you really are.” He untangled one hand to caress your cheek, the soft touch making you lean into his palm.

How could you not give him everything he wanted? His reiatsu was sweet, warm, and enveloping. It was delicious. You felt intoxicated by it and ever since your skin touched his, you knew you drew him into your web.

Urahara moaned when you rolled your hips, his cock hugged by your velvety walls, and he cussed when you took his thumb into your pretty little mouth. He blinked a couple of times, fighting the urge to rock into you as he wanted to see your true form. Your kind was rare, very rare. In fact, many shinigami believed your kind to be just a myth and a fantasy of depraved men.

The sun had begun to set and the golden hour illuminated your skin. Its rays glared at his eyes once more and when his eyes adjusted again, he caught the shape of two horns curling by the side of your head like a crown and stretched wide behind you were the most majestic set of wings, a shade of deep purple. Your eyes were shut as his thumb swiped your lower lip. Were you embarrassed?

“Didn’t I tell you to look at me?” He chuckled and you adorably blinked your eyes open, lashes fluttering. God, you were so cute. He can’t hold himself back anymore.

Gently with his strength, he switched your positions. Your back landed on the soft mattress of your bed, taking you by surprise that your wings had contracted into themselves. His hands held your hips as he hoisted them onto his thighs, lifting them up. You stared at him, eyes wide. His thumb spread apart your puffy lips, humming satisfactorily at how it glistened with slick. When he returned his gaze to your face only to find it hidden behind your hands, he found it endearing that you were being shy especially since it was in your nature…

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rubbing his length between your folds, collecting your slick before guiding his head to your entrance, merely kissing with the tip. You whined into your hands at the feeling, hips wriggling for more. “Talk to me, Y/N-channn.”

“I-I have never shown anyone…” you peaked through your fingers, his ash blonde hair prettily a mess over his eyes as he looked at you with such a gentle look, a contrast to your former lover from a hundred years ago whose face had contorted in horror in a rare blood moon. “…shown anyone at will…”

“You hide this cute form of yours?” He pushed the head of his cock in, turned on by the way your back arched at just him entering you.

He sighed out in bliss, sinking slowly, inch by inch feeling the warmth of your walls hug him. It was heavenly. God, he was never going to get enough of you. There’s so much he wanted to do to you. This was just the tip of the iceberg.

“K-kisuke,” you whimpered, not satisfied with him just remaining still inside you. You needed more.

"What's gotten you so submissive, hm?" He teased, taking his thumb and massaging your clit. The pressure made you moan. "You were the one who started all this." He drew his hip back a little to shallowly rock in and out of you. His own moan accompanied yours, your walls contracting needily around him.

He was right. You were the one who started this but now you were melting in his touch, helplessly needing his touch. You believed it was the strength of his reiatsu. It was stronger than any human you've played with to just get enough energy to keep your powers available to you. His sexual reiatsu, unlike humans, felt as if you had no way of depleting it, it was making your senses and your lustful need increase a thousandfold.

"P-please, I need you." You whimpered, your hands no longer hiding your face. They fell to your side as you gripped your sheets, the slow rocking of his hips, the slow sensation of his cock scraping your walls, was driving you insane. You wanted it in full force, not like this, this was torture. If it had been just another human, you would've maintained full control. He was different.

"You beg just as cute as I thought." He smiled at you, hands gripping your hips tight. "I still have questions." Though he was stalling from giving you what you want, enjoying the obscene sight of your body shivering and aching for pleasure, and your cute lewd face, he was using everything in him to not just fuck you senseless in your bed.

"I'll answer anything you ask after!" You cried out, the burning ache in your core too much. You needed the sweet burst of relief to wrack your body, you needed the vulgar rapture of fucking to ruin you. "Just, please, please, use me as you wish." You never begged any of your victims like this.

The sweet sound of your voice pleading him like that deepened his desire for you. He'll show you just how much he's been wanting you all this time.

He drew his hips back, almost leaving the velvet heat of your walls. You were about to whine, thinking he was going to tease you to no end but no. Like a man starved, like a dog in heat, he drove back into you, fully sheathing himself again, and regulated a rough and fast pace.

Your lips parted in a silent scream, that tingling and electrifying feeling you’ve deprived yourself of in the full flux of your energy for years, sent strong, crashing waves of pleasure throughout your body. It was euphoric. Each deep stroke had your toes curling and your eyes shutting in pure bliss. Every nerve receptor was on overdrive and made the right coiling feeling in your tummy contract further.

You didn’t care about the lewd moans that left your lips or the obscene sound of skin slapping on skin and the wet squelching of your pussy as Urahara pounded into you. That burning ache within you was being scratched and god, why did his cock feel so good.

Urahara was relentless. He drew his hips back and drove them back in in a crazed frenzy, chasing his own high and addicted to the warm plush walls of your pussy squeezing him. His own groans and pleasurable moans melded with yours, the two of you a hot sticky mess of sex.

Even in the daze of carnal lust, he made sure to enjoy the pornographic sight of you on his bed, puffy pussy lips split apart by his cock and tits bouncing with each collision of his hips against yours. You were so out of it too. Your cute little tongue poked out just a bit between your lips and your eyes couldn’t even stay open, you were just spiraling in pure pleasure.

He brought one of your legs over his shoulder, angling himself in a way he could rut in you deeper. “K-Kisuke!” You screamed his name out so sweetly, his cock head kissing your g-spot repeatedly. You were just a mess of arousal. He could feel how wet you were by the way you coat his cock and even drip over his thighs and the bed. It was downright dirty. And it was all for him.

“F-fuck,” he swore to himself, thrusting endlessly, feeling a tightness in the base of his spine. He was dangerously close and it didn’t help that you were too. Your walls were hugging him tighter and you messily continued to get wetter, his cock scraping your walls over and over emitting sloppy wet sounds.

You could feel him get harder inside you and you bit your lip at how delicious that felt. He looked so pretty when he fucked you. His cheeks were pink and his skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Your release was growing nearer and nearer. Sweet refrains of his name continued to leave your lips, begging and pleading for more, and telling him how good he felt which encouraged him to fuck you harder.

His hand caressed your lower tummy, pressing his palm against where his cock was inside of you. The pressure made you keen, your fingers gripping the sheets now.

Urahara was completely focused on the beautiful creature you were, wanting nothing more than to make you his and be the only one to hear your sweet moans. To be the one who would make those cute lewd expressions form on your pretty face. The only one to see just how beautiful you are.

His thumb finds your throbbing pearl and massaged it in circular motions. You cried out in pleasure, the added stimulation making you tip over the edge. Your walls gripped his cock tight making it almost impossible to pull out as your body convulsed. Your lips were parted and your eyes were shut as pleasure shot through you like electricity. Your hips were shaking as you came all over him, your sweet honey spilling forth as he shallowly thrusts, his balls tightening.

“F-fuck, tell me where to cum, sweetheart.” He tried to control the quick rhythm of his hips that was moving desperately to empty himself into you.

Urahara searched for your face through the curtain of his blond hair over his eyes. Your hair was strewn over your face as you panted, hips shaking and soft breasts bouncing with his movement. He needed your answer and he hoped it was the one he wanted.

“I-inside.” You sighed dreamily, watching him through heavy lidded eyes. You moved your leg over his shoulder to join the other in wrapping around his waist, trapping him in place to uphold your answer.

The symbol in your irises was glowing pink. You held out your arms, inviting him into them and he leaned forward, crashing his lips into yours as he did. He kissed you deeply, driving his cock hard and fast, focused on the hot grip of your pussy around his throbbing and aching cock. Your arms were wrapped around him as you kissed him back, moving your lips in perfect tandem with his.

Your body was still electrified from your orgasm and the continuous sensation of his cock rocking in and out of you was sending you into overdrive. You wouldn’t be truly satisfied til you had his seed anywhere on you and even better inside of you.

With a couple more thrusts and giving it all in his final one, the tightness in the base of his spine, exploded. You moaned into his mouth as you felt heat shoot inside of your womb, it made your eyes roll back in ecstasy. Urahara kept himself hoisted up as he emptied his balls, groaning as he felt your walls milk his cock. How salacious your pussy was, he had thought. You were going to drive him crazy. He remained still inside of you, relishing in the sweet victorious sensation of fulfilling one of his dirty fantasies.

He peppered kisses along your neck as your bodies remained pressed against one another. This wasn’t anything he’d experienced before. It was definitely out of this world.

“You feel so good, Kisuke.” You hummed sweetly, petting his head as the two of you laid side by side now on your bed.

He rested his head on the pillow of your breasts, his arms draped over your abdomen as yours and his legs remained tangled with one another. The climax of both your highs lingered longer than expected and you two cuddled as you both recovered from the raw mindless fucking you two indulged in.

“The things you do to me, woman.” He let out a sigh, though a little tired, his cock twitched to life wanting to bury itself inside you once more.

You giggled. “You can ask me anything you like. I did. promise you.” You lovingly pet him, your heart tied to this man.

“You’re no normal cutie neighbor that’s for sure,” he concluded, light-heartedly. He caressed your side. “How long have you starved yourself?”

You didn’t expect that…he almost sounded pained to have asked that.

“A while…”

“Myths say your kind needs semen to survive.” He couldn’t help but think of how he came inside of you as he said that.

“That myth is partially wrong.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “We don’t need it to survive. We feed off sexual reiatsu that is emitted when we engage in any kind of sexual activity with a man. The semen is the most potent form of a man’s sexual reiatsu.”

“Which means?” He was honestly curious. He adjusted his position so he could comfortably look at you as you spoke while still holding you close.

“To put it simply, to us, it’s like an energy shot. A very addicting, delicious, energy shot that our bodies happily respond to.” You explained, your cheeks warm. You couldn’t help but be flushed by him. He was gazing up at you as you spoke to him about the ways of your kind. It was unnatural and you expected a far more negative reaction, not this sweet adoration in his eyes.

“How come I’m not depleted of my reiatsu ?”

“B-because…I don’t want to.” Your voice trailed off, getting softer.

“How long have you abstained?”

“For quite sometime now. I didn’t want to continue feeding off humans…they will...have deteriorated if they kept relations with me.”

Urahara could hear the pain in your voice. You found your very being to be a curse. He assumed you had stopped because of your soft heart but that was dangerous of you to do to yourself.

Silence fell before the two of you, there was a far-off look in your eyes and he wondered about how lonely you must’ve been. You’ve probably never had the chance to really have a relationship with a human man. To be in love.

Oh, the thought made his heart ache. Luck for you, he wasn’t a human. He could fulfill all your needs if you asked him to.

“What happens if you keep continuing to…um…see… the same man? Besides deterioration.” He asked, breaking you away from your trance.

You knew what he insinuated.

“O-oh…well…I would form a bond with him but in the past, I'd always chose not to feed off the same man twice. So I never bonded with any of them. ”

“And how will you know if this bond has formed?”

He was asking very specific questions but you didn’t think much of it. Though you haven’t even formed a bond yet, you felt your heart was chained to him. You wanted him all to yourself.

“A very special mark would show up right here,” you took his hand and placed it a couple of centimetres below your navel, low and close to the apex of your mound.

Urahara followed your hand and stared at the smooth, unmarked skin.

“Kisuke…”

He’ll never get tired of you saying his name.

“Yes?” He looked at you once more. His pretty little goddess.

“What are you really? Your reiatsu is different from a human. It’s stronger and there’s so much of it.” You cupped his cheek. “You’re no ordinary shopkeeper.”

He didn’t feel the need to hide the truth from you. You had shown him your true form, which he didn’t understand why you were ashamed of. To him, it was cute and sexy. Every man’s sick fantasy.

The playful and aloof facade he always wore, faded. His eyes were serious now but still gazed at you gently. The tone of his voice was no longer in the usual happy melodious tune he took. “I was once a soul reaper, my dear.”

You blinked, surprised at the revelation that explained his reitasu being different from anyone you’ve ever met. You knew of shinigami , you see them in Karakura town both in their true form where other humans can’t see them, and in their gigai . You didn’t expect your handsome, cute but pervy, neighbour to be one.

“I see.” Was all you said, still holding the man in your arms who comfortably remained in your warm embrace, his own limbs draped over your own.

Your brows furrowed when you felt him slip away, sitting up beside you, his broad muscular back flexing as he did.

“Kisuke?” You sat up too, on your knees.

He glanced at the call of your name and shuddered at the cute sight before him. Naked skin glimmering, cute eyes staring at him, little cute horns curled on each side of your head and your wings relaxed behind you, had him enchanted by you once again. He was down bad. Very, very bad.

He sighed, turned to face you, and inched close. His surroundings were clear of that haze your energy created. The entirety of your room was clear and no longer blurry, yet this invisible glowing halo on you still remained.

“The sun has set.”

Was he leaving? Your heart cracked at the thought. You didn’t want to use your powers to keep him, you wanted him but you wanted him to want you for you of his own volition. “Y-yes it has.”

“We shouldn’t…” He looked down, his hair falling over his eyes.

You understood. A little ashamed, dejected even, you slowly brought the sheets up to your chest, covering yourself as you bit your trembling lip, waiting for words that would feel like a knife pierced your chest.

“We shouldn’t waste any time then.” Urahara nodded, as he came to a decision about whatever he thought.

You blinked, confused. “What?”

In a flash, you found yourself, torso down on the bed with a pillow underneath you to keep you comfy while his hands firmly gripped your hips, hoisting it up. You yelped at the sudden position, feeling the remnants of Urahara’s seed unloaded into you that didn’t fit in your womb anymore, leaked out of your messy slicked hole.

“Oh wow, how messy.” He teased and then blinked. “You didn’t tell me you had this cute tail!” From the base of your spine and extended was a slender black serpentine tail.

His reiatsu was insane. One encounter with him replenished your powers and awakened your true form. No one ever had this effect on you. And he thought this form, horns, wings, and tail were cute?!

"Ah!" A ticklish shudder ran up and down your spine. The sound that left you was a mix between a moan and a yelp. "D-don't do that." You whimpered, legs shaking.

"Do what?" He played innocently, fingers trailing over where your tail connected to your spine. He was enjoying having you under his control. Then repeated what he did again, watching the way your thighs shook and your cute pink pussy pulse.

"Don't pull at it!" You whined, feeling embarrassed. You've never, ever, dared to be seen in your true form. You buried your face into the pillow and Urahara was screaming internally at how adorable you were.

"Awe, I'm sorry." He pouted, caressing gently the base of your spine. "Why are you hiding?"

"I-I'm just not used to being seen like this."

"But you're sooo cute, like this." He replied, pressing himself against you, slowly rubbing his hardening length between your folds making you mewl.

"Y-you want to..." you panted, losing yourself at the friction of his cock rubbing your clit. You wanted him again and more if he was able. You didn't want to tire him out. "...again?"

"I told you didn't I?" He popped the head of his cock into your pussy once more, slowly filling you up inch by inch. "We shouldn't waste any time." Urahara groaned, balls deep inside you once more with the gorgeous view of your back curved with your plush ass against him.

You squealed into the pillow, unashamedly pushing your hips further back to feel him deeper.

"By the end of the night, Y/N-chan," he huskily spoke, gently tugging at your tail. The action made you squeeze around him deliciously, arousal tickling your whole body. "We're gonna make sure I leave that mark."

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wallfl0wer-babe · 4 months

Text

My Girl (Dabi x AFABReader) 18+

18+ CONTENT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Content Warning: unprotected sex, creampie, voyeurism, rough sex, size-kink, dirty talk, praise, voyeurism, exhibitionism

Synopsis- Tired and jealous of the way Hawks lusts after you Dabi lashes out at you. In order to win you back and show Hawks whose girl you are Dabi comes up with a not so innocent way of killing two birds with one stone.

*Angst in the beginning but ends with fluff

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Dabi could feel his blood boiling as he watched Hawks chat you up across the room, his arm draped over your shoulders while he shamelessly leered at your cleavage while you scrolled through your phone. Dabi couldn't blame Hawks for being attracted to you, he'd be crazy not to, what drove him crazy was the fact he so boldy acted on that attraction and that you didn't reject his advances. Deep down he knew he had no right to be upset about it, it wasn't like you and him were exclusive, he had been the one to insist on that when the two of you started to sleep together, despite the fact he couldn't stand the idea of being intimate with a girl other than you. As if he could sense the way Dabi was burning holes into him Hawks turned around and shot him a cheeky smirk, pulling you closer into his side and whispering in your ear. 'I'm gonna fuckin' kill that bastard' Dabi thought as he gritted his teeth.

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"What movie do you wanna watch?" You asked, taking a seat on his bed. "I'm busy tonight" he didn't even turn to look at you, staring at his phone. "Since when?" You joked, the smile on your face slowly disappearing as he shot you a scowl. "Hey what's wro-" "I'm bored of you." He spat, his heart clenching at the hurt expression that came over your face. "Wh...What?" You asked, doing your best to swallow the lump that formed in your throat at his cold words. "I said I'm fucking bored of you, so get a fucking clue and leave already." He averted his gaze as your lip began to quiver and tears filled your eyes. "What? Did you think I fucking liked you or something? I've only been fucking you because you're convenient, don't get some idea that you're special. You're just one of many whores I've used to entertain myself until I get sick of them." He spat, all his pent up jealousy and feelings of inferiority bubbling up and being directed at you. Unable to handle any more hurtful words from the man you had fallen for, you made your way to the door, doing your best to conceal your tear-soaked face as you brushed pass him. Letting out a loud sob as soon as he slammed the door behind you. Blood leaked from Dabi's burned water ducts at the sound. "FUCK!" He yelled, slamming his fist into the wall.

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He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up really bad and he had absolutely no clue how to fix it. You hadn't left your room since that night and it had been a little over a week since then. The fact that you only allowed Hawks inside did nothing but add salt to the wound that had caused his outburst in the first place. Every night he'd found himself standing outside your door with every intention of begging for your forgiveness, tell you how every word had been nothing but filthy lies formed from his own insecurity and that you were the only good thing in his life. But every time he found himself retreating, his apology and confession lodged in his throat out of fear of rejection.

He threw back another shot of whiskey, hoping it would give him the liquid courage he needed to finally spill his heart out to you, knowing full well it hadn't helped him with any of his many previous attempts. "What's up man?" Hawks asked, earning a harsh glare from Dabi. "Woah, what's wrong? Finally realized how badly you fucked up." Hawks could practically feel the rage radiating off Dabi, but he was never one to surrender when it came to under one's skin, especially when that person was the infamous blue-flamed villain who's girl he'd wanted since the moment he saw her. It was just an added bonus that he'd get the extra satisfaction that came with taking her from Dabi. "I gotta hand it to ya man, you're crazier than I thought if you'd throw a chick like that away." The glass in Dabi's hand cracked from his intense grip. Wanting nothing more than to incinerate the damn cheeky bastard in that moment. Hawks only smirked at the infuriated man, grabbing a pack of beers from the fridge. "I should thank you if I'm being honest. You've made things way easier for me." Dabi threw the glass at Hawks face, who easily avoided it, laughing as he made his way up to your room, leaving a rage filled Dabi standing there with steam coming off his body.

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You sat in the bath, enjoying the peace you were left with now that Hawks had left for the night. You wanted nothing more than to be left to your self, but Shigaraki had tasked you with gathering intel from Hawks after noticing his attraction towards you, and as much as you hated it you couldn't risk the mission just because you were feeling miserable. You did your best to let the heartache and stress melt away as you lathered your body in soap, trying to ignore the way its scent made your heart ache as you thought about how Dabi used to compliment it.

The sound of loud knocking on the door broke you out of your painful thoughts. You let out an annoyed sigh as you quickly rinsed the suds off your body and wrapped yourself in a towel, ready to tell off Hawks for disturbing you. "Hawks I am really not in the fucking mood." The rest of your rant quickly dying on your tongue as you saw it was Dabi at the door, not Hawks. You went to shut the door in his face only for him to lodge his boot in the doorway and force himself inside your room. "What the fuck Dabi!?" You yelled, fruitlessly trying to shove him out. "Please, Doll, just give me a minute please." You ignored his desperate pleas, still trying to force him out of your room even though you knew you had no chance of overpowering him.

"What so you can use me as a convenient way to get your dick wet again?" Tears welled up in your eyes, as you acknowledged the cruel words he had said to you. "Shit Doll, I'm sorry, I swear I didn't mean it." Dabi said, enveloping your cheeks in his scarred hands and brushing away the tears. Some part of you begged you to jerk away, but the other part couldn't bear to pull away from him despite everything.

You forced yourself meet his gaze with the intention to tell him you hated him and that you wanted him to leave, only to be shocked at the sight of blood flowing from his eyes. You had only seen him cry once, when he told you the story of how he got his scars. You gently cupped his face, hating how you couldn't bare seeing him in pain even after everything he had put you through. and wiped away the blood with your thumb. "I didn't mean it Doll...could never mean it...need you too much, love you too damn much." His sincere words made your heart flutter and tears of happiness leak from your eyes. "I love you too Dabi."

He smashed his lips onto yours, in a kiss of overwhelming passion and emotion. You returned the kiss with equal feverish intensity, as you both sear yourselves in the others being. The feeling of the cold metal of his staples lightly scraping against your skin was a sensation you had grown to love, something so exclusively him. Dabi pulled away from the kiss, biting down gently on your lip. He let out a deep gruff snicker at the way your lips chased his and formed into a pout when he pulled away.

Dabi felt like he was in a dream and would wake up to his harsh reality any moment. How could he not when the woman he thought he'd never be worthy of loved him back. You, who soothed every inch of his being and gave his heart a reason to keep beating.

"You're all mine Doll, that winged bastard can go fuck himself." Dabi muttered, nuzzling your neck. "He's what pissed you off so bad? I was only tolerating him because Shigaraki told me to gather intel from him, he was never competition, no guy was." Dabi felt relief wash over him, a feeling quickly replaced by a burning possessive lust . "Dabi!" You shrieked as he tore the damp towel from your body and turned it to ash. He picked you up as if you were a blushing bride and tossed you onto your bed. "I'm glad to hear that Doll, but the bird brain needs some help getting it through his thick skull." Dabi grabbed your phone from the nightstand and unlocked it. The brief sound of texting and a message being sent filled the air before Dabi returned it to the nightstand and crawled over you. "What did you do?" With a dangerous look in his eye Dabi flashed you a wicked smirk. "You'll see Doll."

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With a triumphant smirk playing on his lips Hawks let himself into the leagues hideout like he owned the place and made his way towards your room. He's rushed over the moment he received your text 'Hawks, I need you so bad.' He'd been trying to hook up with you for weeks, and getting to fuck you after stealing you away from Dabi was going to feel incredible.

The scene he was met with upon entering your room, however was quite different than what he was expecting, shattering his lewd fantasies. You were sitting outward on Dabi's lap with three of his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you, small mewls and whimpers escaping you mouth. Shock flashed across your face at the sight of him, only for your eyes to roll back in your skull as Dabi massaged your clit. "You're just in time for the main event bird boy. I just finished prepping her tight pussy for my thick cock."

Hawks had thought his size was impressive, but it seemed laughable compared to the monster Dabi released from his boxers. How the hell did he expect to fit that thing inside you? How had he without tearing you apart. His eyes snapped back to the faces of you and Dabi as Dabi released a groan and you a few whimpers at the feeling of you grinding down on his cock. “Fuck, that’s it Doll. Show him how badly you need this huge cock, my huge cock to fill up that deliciously tight pussy.” Dabi spat, spreading your cunt with two of his scarred fingers and briefly sucking on your swollen bottom lip, shooting Hawks a possessive glare as he did so.

“Ready for me Doll?” Dabi asked, bringing his gaze back to you and tenderly caressing you cheek with his rough thumb. You meekly nodded letting out a small moan as Dabi teased your clit. “Need to hear you say it Doll. Need him to hear you.” You looked up at him through you lashes, wet from tears of pleasure. “Need to be filled by your cock, need it so bad it hurts Dabi.” Dabi groaned, your words making his throbbing cock twitch. “That’s my sweet filthy girl. Always so ready for me to stuff that pretty hole of hers like it deserves.” Flashing a wide-eyed Hawks a triumphant smirk he finally impaled you on the gigantic monster that was his cock. The feeling of him stuffing you full after so long had you throwing your head back in ecstasy into his chest. You cunt twitching around him as you suddenly and unexpected squirted around his monstrous cock. “Fuck yeah Doll, that’s it your sweet cunt always grips my dick so perfectlly ngh~” Dabi quickly joined you in ecstasy as he was consumed bythe heavenly feeling of you gummy walls suffocating his cock in a delicious vice grip, a feeling he’d deprived himself of for far too long. You panted in unison with Dabi, reveling in the feeling of his seed overflowing your sensitive pussy and drooling out onto his balls.

Dabi grunted out a laugh at the pathetic sight of Hawks panting, his own release staining the front of his pants. “Poor bird boy, bet you wish it was you who had this sweet cunt wrapped around your dick overstuffed with your cum, but unfortunately for you this pretty thing is my girl and her tight pussy is reserved for me, ain’t that right doll?”

“Yes Dabi it’s all yours. I’m all yours.” “Damn right Doll. You’re welcome to watch the rest of the show bird boy, but don’t get used to it, this is the closest your pathetic ass will ever get to feeling my girls pussy.” With that Dabi hooked your legs over his arms and slowly pulled you off his cock until it was just his tip inside. A mixture of both of your releases messily dripping out of you as he did this, before he roughly slammed you down on his cock without warning. “Nngahh Dabi~” He silenced your wail with a sloppy kiss full of tongue and teeth as you both lost yourselves in mind numbing pleasure. Leaving a flustered Hawks forgotten as he desperately pumped his cock at the lewd sight of Dabi erratically thrusting his cum covered cock into your drooling pussy. The immense size of him creating a bulge in your lower stomach as he rearranged your guts.

“Shit Doll, so good, so fucking good for me. This sweet pussy was made for my cock. Ngh, fuck~ keep squeezing me like that and I’m gonna bust.” Your body trembled as Dabi’s continued to thrust into your sweet spot his thumb not once stopping its assault on your sensitive clit. “Ple- please let me come. You sobbed as that all to familiar knot began to tighten in your abdomen. “I know Doll, just hold o- shit, hold on a little longer for me. So close to filling that pretty cunt up. Just keep clenching my cock like that for me.” Dabi licked away the tears springing from your eyes as you struggled to hold back your impending orgasm.

Dabi’s balls tightened as your warm walls suffocated his throbbing cock. With a final harsh thrust to your cervix and a light pinch to your twitching clit Dabi flooded your womb with his cum with a guttural groan as your own release soaked both of your pelvises and the sheets. “Fuck that’s my girl, did so well Doll.” Dabi said placing a loving kiss to your swollen and bruised lips before pulling out of your spent cunt and laying your exhausted body onto the bed. Smiling softly at the soft snores you left out as he pulled on his boxers. His smile dropped as he turned to Hawks, panting and covered in his own cum. “Looks like you enjoyed yourself.” “I uh-“ “I don’t give a fuck. You’ve been useful so I decided to be generous for the leagues sake just this once, but if I catch you lurking around my girl after this I’ll fucking fry your ass, understood bird boy?” Hawks only nodded, the shame of what he had done while watching the both of you finally sinking in. “Good, looks like you got some sense in that bird brain after all. Now get the fuck out of here before my generosity runs out.” Without making eye contact a disheveled Hawks wasted no time exiting the scene.

Dabi darkly chuckled, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up. ——————————————————————————————————————————————

You awoke as you were lifted from the bed into Dabi’s arms. “Mng…What’re you doing?” You asked with a yawn, your eyes still droopy with sleep. “Just taking you back to my room Doll. Didn’t want you having to sleep on dirty sheets.” “Cause yours are so clean.” You teased nuzzling into his chest. He smiled down at you, kissing the top of your head. “You know what I mean.” You hummed giving him a quick peck on his chest.

“I love you Dabi.” His hold tightened, and you could feel the way his heart rate picked up against you cheek. “I love you too Doll.”

#dabi todoroki #+18 content #fanfiction #no minors allowed #reader insert #smut #bnha dabi #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha hawks #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi smut #Dabi x reader

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thepastisalreadywritten · 1 month

Text

It was always going to end this way. The truth about Catherine Middleton’s absence is far less funny, whimsical, or salacious than the endless memes and conspiracy theories suggested.

In a video recorded and broadcast by the BBC, the princess says she has cancer and that she had retreated from the public eye to deal with her condition, while attempting to shield her children from the spotlight.

Instead, she had to contend with the internet giggling about whether she’d had a Brazilian butt lift.

My colleague Helen Lewis summed it up succinctly this afternoon: “I Hope You All Feel Terrible Now.”

What is there to learn from such a sad situation? The internet is made up of people, yet its architecture abstracts this basic truth.

As I wrote a few weeks ago, at the center of this months-long story was essentially “a sea of people having fun online because it is unclear whether a famous person is well or not.”

Underneath the memes was always something a little bit gross and indefensible.

Perhaps humans are just wired this way — to gawk and gossip.

There’s nothing new about hounding a member of the royal family or invading the privacy of a celebrity to sell tabloids or go viral.

You don’t even have to be a scold about it: Famous people are wealthy and beloved at least in part because they’re fun to talk about.

Exactly what we do and don’t know about their internal lives is part of the allure — the discourse comes with the territory to a degree.

But Catherine Middleton, of course, is a human too.

During this saga, I kept thinking about the reappraisal of Britney Spears in 2021, as well as the backlash toward past media and tabloid coverage of her rise.

A New York Times documentary dredged up old coverage of Spears from the mid-aughts, showing a young woman clearly in distress, being picked apart by glossy magazines.

Her suffering became entertainment. The response to this film was swift.

Some of the people and institutions that had shamelessly delighted in her pain backtracked: Glamour publicly apologized to the pop star on its Instagram account, noting, “We are all to blame for what happened to Britney Spears.”

Contrast the Spears reckoning with the Middleton drama and, if you’re being generous, you can see some of that newfound attitude in the media.

I was struck by Lewis’s observation that “Britain’s tabloid papers have shown remarkable restraint” throughout this mess.

Progress, perhaps, but what’s also telling is that they didn’t really need to do the dirty work: Random people on the internet were doing it for them.

They recklessly speculated, memed, and used their amateur sleuthing and networked faux expertise to concoct elaborate, semi-plausible explanations for her absence.

Was Catherine’s face actually Photoshopped from a Vogue spread? It wasn’t, but the conspiratorial tweet got 51.1 million views anyhow.

Missing from much of the discourse was the idea that its main character was a person who was likely struggling.

In essence, the internet democratized the tabloid experience, turning the rest of us into paparazzi and addled editors workshopping headlines and cover images — not to sell magazines but to amass some kind of fleeting online popularity.

In my least charitable moments, I see this toxic dynamic as the lasting legacy of social media — a giant, metrics-infused experiment in connectivity that has had a flattening, pernicious effect.

In 2021, I interviewed Elle Hunt, a journalist who’d tweeted an innocuous opinion about horror movies one evening and woke up to find she was trending on Twitter, her feeds choked with thousands of furious replies and threats.

When I asked her to describe the experience of becoming Twitter’s main character for the day, she summed it up thusly:

“You’re repurposed as fodder for content generation in a way that’s just so dehumanizing.”

Three years later, these words resonate even stronger.

What Hunt described to me then as “a platform failure,” feels to me now like a learned behavior of the internet, where people, famous and not, are repurposed as fodder for content generation. The cycle repeats itself endlessly.

This afternoon, the memes about Middleton shifted — from jokes about her whereabouts to jokes about how awful it was that everyone had been making fun of a cancer patient.

Feeling bad about the memes tweets immediately became a meme unto themselves.

Despite the tone shift, the reason for these posts is the same: They’re a way to take a person and repurpose their life for entertainment and engagement.

If this sounds exhausting and depressing, it’s because it is.

But the internet is also too big to be one thing. Clicking through social media this afternoon, I saw dozens of heartfelt testimonials, apologies, and well-wishes for the princess.

For a moment, from my perspective, it felt like watching a collective of people come to their senses.

A recognition, perhaps, of the humanity of the person at the center of the maelstrom.

Then, only a few seconds later, I saw a different post. It was a screenshot from the blockchain platform Solana, where users can create their own cryptographic tokens for others to invest in.

The name of the token in the screenshot is “kate wif cancer,” and its logo is a still of the princess sitting on a bench, taken from this afternoon’s video.

The coin’s market cap briefly surpassed $120,000. Only six minutes later, the price had cratered — the result of a standard memecoin sell off.

An awful thing happened. Some people made a joke about it. Other people made some money. And then everyone moved on.

NOTE: Edited

#Princess of Wales #Catherine Princess of Wales #Catherine Middleton #Kate Middleton #British Royal Family #cancer #chemotherapy #internet #memes #fake news #disinformation #misinformation #platform failure #social media

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haleyhunwritess · 1 year

Note

🍒drabble for the celebration: reader and bucky having movie night with nat or steve and bucky is just teasing her the whole time

🍒 drabble for bratty!reader with mean!bucky + steve

a/n: y'all really love your smut😭 i wanted to combine the two asks that i got for the celebration but here is another needy!reader with mean!bucky <3 thank you again and enjoy, you filthy animals😭😭

𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐲’𝐬 𝟏𝐤 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Sit still.” Bucky whispered in a hushed yet stern tone. His hand continued tracing your inner thighs gently, as you were practically squirming on his lap.

“Sorry, ‘m trying but it’s hard.” You whimpered, trying your best to sit as still as possible on his lap. You knew you only had yourself to blame for the position you were in currently.

“I don’t care. Don't move.” He huffed, as his hand travelled further up. His other hand found its way under your shirt, lightly cupping you before moving it back down to spread your legs further.

“B-but it h-hurts…” You tried to move his hand between you legs but one you took a look at his stern face, you immediately stopped, "Sorry, daddy...just want you to help me, need daddy to help me...can't take it any longer."

“You should've thought of that before trying to throw yourself at my best friend like a needy slut. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" His hand finally moved up between your legs, but your excitement quickly diminished when his hand landed a hard slap between your legs. He quickly masked it with a cough, not wanting to wake up Steve who was passed out on the other end of the couch.

The evening started off with an innocent dinner, which then turned into movie night once Steve mentioned he'd never seen How to lose a guy in 10 days. Steve reluctantly stayed, still debating whether he it was a good idea. You spent the entire night flirting with him, finding every excuse to touch him and tease him. When you were bending over to put the brownies in the oven, he couldn't help but stare at how short your skirt was, and how it rode up when you were bent over. Bucky knew what you were doing as he watched you place the dessert in the oven, taking way longer than you needed to. He knew you were doing this to piss him off. He knew all you wanted was attention. He almost chuckled as he noticed Steve staring at you shamelessly.

As amusing as this was for him, he didn't want Steve to be staring at what belongs to him for too long. He cleared his throat to get Steve's attention, giving him a silent warning. Steve quickly looked away, knowing that Bucky was now glaring at him. He lightly licked his lips as he tried not to think about how good you would look bent over the table like that.

When the movie started, he pulled you onto his lap, leaving a trail of soft kisses all over your neck. Steve chuckled awkwardly, and tried to focus on the movie instead. A few minutes into the movie, and Bucky was already toying with you. Torturing you under the blanket, while you tried your best to keep your mouth shut and sit still. You quietly begged him to take you upstairs after he'd stopped touching you when you were so close the second time. Each time he just shook his head and started all over again.

And that's how you ended up here, on Bucky's lap. The movie ended twenty minutes ago, and Steve had fallen asleep right before the ending.

"Did you really think you could get away with being such a slut?" He snapped, a little too loud, making you worry whether Steve had heard him, "Do you think I like to share?"

You quickly shook your head, and looked over at Steve. It would be beyond humiliating if he could hear you two right now, "P-please I'll behave...Stevie is right there, he might hear us. Let's go upstairs, daddy, please"

"Oh but I thought that's what you wanted, sweetheart?" He mocked, starting to rub you faster, "You getting shy on me now, baby? You were perfectly happy bending over for him earlier." He landed another slap between your legs, making you whimper loudly, enough to wake Steve up.

"This. Belongs. To. Me." He smacked you after each word, and all you could do was moan in response. He chuckled at your reaction and finally turned you around to face him, "Have you learnt your lesson yet, little one? Are you ready to stop being a dumb needy baby?"

You quickly nodded, "Yes, please! I'll be your good girl again, I promise!"

"Yeah? You're gonna be my good girl now?" He tilted his head, waiting for your response.

Eagerly nodding, you said, "I will! I'll be good, I promise."

"Good. Then do as you're fucking told, and sit still." He hissed, turning you back around to keep toying with you, making you whine loudly, "Shhhh, pretty girl, I know you love being a little slut but you wouldn't wanna wake Stevie up would you now?" He smirked, looking over at Steve, knowing damn well he's been awake this whole time. But you didn't know that. And Steve didn't know Bucky knew he was awake. Bucky just used this as an opportunity to give you both a warning. After all, Bucky doesn't like to share.

#bucky x reader #buckysteve #steve x reader #bucky x little!reader #steve x little!reader #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky x reader #stucky x little!reader #bucky barnes smut #🍒 drabble #1k celebration #haley 1k celebration

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fernandezology · 1 year

Note

gavi fluff watching a horror movie <333333

late night confessions - pablo gavi

pairing: pablo gavi x reader

author’s note: sorry this took awhile,but thank you for request! got a little carried away with this one and gave it a little twist. the end is purposefully like that to indicate she fell asleep. i hope you will like it<3

word count: 1,7 k

some people love to consume fear.

it was no secret you were one of them ever since… well ever since you can remember. you would hide in closets to scare your family,and when you would play hide and seek with your friends- it was a real nightmare to find you. nobody really had a clue from where did this love for fear came from.

you craved all kinds of frightening experiences. at the same time, fear is not exactly a positive emotion. trembling while darkness pushes in around us- this is not a feeling we would describe as pleasant. then,what is it about fear that you are so drawn to? most of people go to great lengths to avoid it. what better time to get scared than in the spookiest time of the year?

all of this began on halloween of 2014. haunted theme park opened near your city and, of course, you begged your parents to let you go. they let you go since they thought some of your older friends will be there too. all of you loved to watch american horror story,but to be fair the majority of them watched it because of evan peters. who could blame them? it’s hard to resist a man who looks like he didn’t sleep in thousand years.

looking back on this, some of your friends were confused when you showed them picture of pablo since he doesn’t have any dark circles. other than watching american horror story,you also loved to read stephen king. you upgraded on him after you read everything that r.l. stine published.

horror is designed to make one afraid because it is advantageous to our survival. the main reason all of you wanted to visit this theme park it is because one of scary houses was based from murder house in american horror story. who could resist experiencing that fear first hand? certainly not you. if you only knew how real horrifying that night is gonna get,you would never go anywhere near that cursed place.

one of your friends was nowhere to be seen. none of you wanted to admit it, but you started to panic. luckily, your instincts were telling you something went terribly wrong here because she wasn’t really type to scare anyone. you were looking everywhere and asking people did they see her.

and then it happened.

someone was walking towards her near exit and grabbed her hand. no running,no drama.

and then she tapped you on shoulder. turns out she was waiting on her revenge to scare you. it was a relief she was safe, but you couldn’t see horrors the way you used to before. you stopped watching them completely and for some reason you couldn’t go to sleep without checking is everything locked multiple times.

old habits die hard and to this day you still did this every night,without exception. pablo didn’t see it as anything unusual because he had no clue about the backstory. one night two of you decided to watch something on netflix. both of you are always so indecisive when it comes to choosing a movie,so you decided to use “suprise me” feature. it was safe to say that this wasn’t maybe the best idea. watching the shining on stormy night? not really what you had in mind,but you didn’t wanna say anything because there was certain advantages. shamelessly snuggling to him? perfect. pretending you fell asleep so he can carry you to bed? sounds like you have a plan b.

you couldn’t help but smile when you saw him frowning while he pressed play. he always asked so many questions while watching and it was very annoying to everyone around him,but you didn’t mind it.

“why would they agree to be in the middle of nowhere? someone will kill them,this is so predictable. is that what happens at the end?”

“just watch and you will understand.”

“can i ask you in case i don’t understand?”

“of course. you would ask anyway”,you said jokingly hoping he keeps asking to keep you distracted from the fact you are watching a horror after so many years.

to your suprise,he didn’t ask that many questions as he usually does. is this really that one time he decides to be quiet,you thought to yourself.

luckily for you,his silence didn’t last long.

“what does REDRUM means?”

“it’s murder backwards.”

“wait,from where did that bruise came from? did his dad really hit him? why are we watching this again?”

“it wasn’t his dad his time,but he did break his arm while trying to discipline him. if you are scared we can just turn it off and go to bed.”

“no,i’m not scared but i think you are and this is how you are trying to lure me in.”

you had no intention of turning to plan b,but maybe it was time. even though he said this jokingly,this was your chance to escape.

“i think i’m going to bed,but you are free to continue watching this- i’m not luring you.”

“wait are you angry at me or something? what’s wrong?”

you continued to walk to your room,pretending you didn’t hear him. it felt so wrong because after all,he never ignored you. and who likes to be ignored? you were hoping he is not gonna think too much of it and assume you just didn’t hear him.

you should’ve known him better by now because is so attentive about you. of course he is gonna come to you. that is pablo you fell in love with.

“what’s wrong,did i say something?”

“no,you didn’t- i just wanted to go to sleep.”

“you can’t fool me. i know that look and obviously something happened,but for the life of me i can’t figure out what is it.”

“i promise you,it’s nothing. could you come here and play with my hair?”

“anything for you princesa.”

part of you wanted to finally tell him this and the other part of you didn’t want to disturb this peaceful silence while he was pushing your hair behind ear. you closed your eyes,hoping this is how you are gonna fall asleep.

“aha! i think i know what it is. it’s because you were annoyed with how much i’m talking during the movie. i’m so sorry-“

“you are annoying,but i love every second of it.”

“so it’s not that? then i really don’t know what it is,can you please tell me? you already know i will annoy you until you give up and tell me.”

“in that case,i have to accept defeat. i don’t wanna tell you because it’s a bit embarrassing and honestly,i don’t think i’ve told this to anyone.”

“i won’t pressure if you don’t want to say it but whenever you are ready,i’m here to listen. trust has to be earned and i don’t expect you to tell me everything,but i hope you know you and your secrets are safe with me.”

“of course i trust you,please don’t even think it’s about that at all. you already did more than enough to earn my trust and love. it’s just hard to talk about this,even though it’s always in the back of my mind,somehow i don’t think about it that often as i used to.”

despite popular belief,he can be calm,composed and a good listener. he was all ears and nodded,encouraging you to continue. there is no easy way to say this,other than to rip off the band-aid.

“you were right- i was luring you to go to bed. it’s because i didn’t want to watch horror,since i didn’t watch any horror in years.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about. why didn’t you just say you don’t want to watch it?”

“to be fair,you did a decent job of distracting me with questions. i thought i’m over it,but it turns out i’m not really. these movies just remind me of that period when someone almost kidnapped one of my friends.”

“oh… i didn’t expect that. how did that even happen?”

“it happened on halloween when we went to a theme park. mainly because of a haunted house that was like one from american horror story. all of a sudden she was nowhere to be seen and we thought she isn’t type to scare anyone- that was more my style. then i saw someone identical to her near the exit. someone grabbed her hand and walked out with her and grabbed her hand. it looked completely normal. no running,no drama. turns out that wasn’t her,she was just waiting on her turn to scare me.

“i can’t even imagine how scary that must’ve been. luckily it wasn’t her and all of you are okay.”

“yeah,but it made me think how many people get kidnapped and no one suspects a thing. you never know what’s happening around you for sure. and it didn’t help that at that time i was reading and watching horrors.”

“i would never connect you to horrors honestly,it could be because you are a complete opposite- a dream.”

“cliché. but i love it.”

“and i love you.”

“i love you too. now if you wanna play fair,you have to tell me one secret.”

“okay,but you have to promise you won’t laugh.”

“i will try.”

“i used to be terrified of the gremlins and i thought they will come to my room after midnight.”

“that’s reasonable,even i hated them. “

“no way,you are fearless. you are just saying it so we can be afraid together.”

“no,i’m serious! and besides,there is no such thing as being afraid when i’m with you.”

“so you won’t check are doors locked million times anymore?”

“i will try not to,but you know how they say: old habits die hard.”

“now it makes sense why you do that,i didn’t come off as unusual because i didn’t know the backstory.”

“now you know.”

“and now you know there is nothing you should be embarrassed or afraid to tell me. even if you want me to check are there any gremlins under bed. “

“deal.”

“i love when we have these late night talks,but i can see you are on the verge of falling asleep. buenas noches,te amo princesa. “

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi x reader #barcelona #football imagines #football one shots

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jeongjaebae · 1 year

Text

Better than the movies

Pairing: Sunwoo x reader Genre: fluff Word count: 2.4k Warnings: alcohol, swearing

Everyone else is having fun at the holiday party except you. And even worse is that the resident fuckboy just won't leave you alone.

If your life was a movie, at this moment, you'd be that introvert at a party. All alone by the bar, slowly nursing your drink as the only person you know has left your side to be with a bigger, louder crowd.

You know it's not your friend's fault. It’d be easy to blame her for insisting on bringing you to the party and then leaving you alone, but you also willingly came despite expecting that to happen. Maybe it's not too big of a deal, though. Your drink goes down smoothly, and you can vibe to music from here. Spending the holidays alone is totally fine, right?

At least it is until you spot him.

Kim Sunwoo, the resident 'too hot for his own good and knows it' fuckboy, who happens to enjoy annoying you for his own entertainment. Why the hell is he here? You didn’t know he was close enough to Changmin or Chanhee to get invited, but then again you don’t know much about him outside of the moments when he shamelessly flirts with you.

Now, he's alone and scanning the room. You watch him as his search continues, mildly intrigued that he’d care enough about this person to weave his way through the crowds. Lowkey, you hope he doesn’t end up finding them so that he’d be just as alone as you are at this party. Maybe as karma for teasing you all throughout the semester.

And maybe then you’d feel a bit better about being alone.

But what you don’t expect is that in the next moment, he suddenly turns towards you and meets your eyes. Forget all the remotely nice thoughts you had about him; you take them back. Kim Sunwoo has the audacity to smirk as he makes his way towards you, and he’s all too quick for you to make an escape.

"Oh look who it is," your enemy greets, settling down on the stool beside you. "Fancy seeing you here, Y/N."

Great. If you'd known that Changmin and Chanhee invited him, you definitely wouldn't have come here tonight. Perhaps you should've written Sunwoo's name down on the 'do not invite' section of the form they sent out, although based on what you've heard, that section is actually used as a list of people they have to invite. For the chaos it'll cause or something like that.

"So? What's the most beautiful person doing here all alone?"

"Fuck off, Sunwoo," you mutter into your drink, not wanting to deal with him now of all times.

"Ah, I see," he nods to himself. "Yeah, the party is kind of lame, isn’t it? How about we get out of here and do something more fun?"

"Don't you, like," you gesture vaguely, "have anyone else to bother?"

"Wow, that’s so mean, Y/N. Come on, it's the holidays. Can't you make my wish come true and be a little nicer to me?" Sunwoo pouts just slightly and you can no longer tell if he’s still joking or not.

You sigh, feeling the annoyance dissipate into a pang of guilt instead. He's not wrong—you probably should be a little nicer when it's the holidays and all. But before you can mutter an apology, he’s moving his seat closer to you so he can lean in like he does every time he manages to sit beside you in class. It's nothing to react to, having grown all too used to it.

And yet… in class it’s one thing. Here, it doesn’t quite feel the same.

"What about you?" you ask, quickly changing the subject and looking away before the thoughts can continue. "Are you this nice to everyone?"

He’s silent for a moment and you think you’ve managed to catch him off guard. But soon enough he bounces back just as easily. "Do you want me to only be nice to you?"

You lift your drink to your lips and use that as an excuse not to answer him.

Surprisingly, he doesn't push it. Sunwoo stays silent for the next while and opts to sip on his drink quietly beside you, only turning to people-watch when you do. The rest of the party seems like an entirely different world from your corner: there's loud music blasting in the background and the room is filled with a sea of smiles and laughter. You can see your friend dancing on the table while Juyeon silently begs them to come down, and over by the tree, Younghoon and his friend are all whispers and shy glances.

Overall, the party looks like a success. You can’t spot the hosts anywhere, but it seems like they did a great job with it if everyone is having a great time. Well, almost everyone.

Sunwoo follows your gaze. "They look like they're having fun."

"Then why aren't you with them? That could be you too."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "I could think of much better things that you and I could be doing."

"Yeah? Like what?"

He leans in until his voice is a whisper in your ear, and you don’t need to see him to know that he’s wearing his signature cocky expression again. "You want to know? Come back to my place and I'll show you."

That has you nearly laughing out loud. Sunwoo has said that to you so many times that it's lost all meaning already, and you're not sure he even means it, really. At most he's simply trying to get a rise out of you, to annoy you just so he can say you're hot when you're angry. It's hilarious how little variation there is to his tricks; by now, you know all of them by heart like bad lines from a movie you've watched too many times.

Wait—movie lines. That's exactly what the things he says end up sounding like, as if they really are lines that he's sloppily copied from somewhere. There's always been something about them that sounded off and you know he says these things to be flirty, or at least attempt to be, but they make him come off as cringey instead.

On the other hand, why would he purposely be doing this? You shift a bit until you're facing him, trying to read him to maybe get a hint at his intentions. Tonight he looks less irritating with the filter of dim lighting and alcohol obscuring his face—those round eyes are warmer, less smug, and his smile isn't quite as cocky either. It's as if he looks sincere for once. As if his asshole persona is finally cracking and you're getting a glimpse of the person underneath it.

And maybe it's seeing him like this, or maybe it’s your judgment becoming more blurred by the minute, but you start to think. Would it be such a terrible idea to go with him and find out what awaits you? Surely it can’t be worse than being at this party and feeling like you're alone in a room full of people. It can't be too bad if there's the off chance it might actually be fun, and maybe you’ll be able to figure out what his deal is.

Besides, the fact that he's the one keeping you company here while your friends are nowhere to be seen has to count for something.

"You know what? Okay, sure." You down the rest of your drink and set it aside. "Let's get out of here."

"Wait what?" Sunwoo merely stares at you for a moment as his smile is gradually replaced with a confused frown. You're not sure what kind of reaction you were expecting, but admittedly, it wasn't this. “Are you serious right now?"

"Yeah," you respond with a nod. "You're the one who suggested it, right? So let's go." When he's still slow to move, you slip out of your seat first. "Come on. Let's go and you can show me this fun time you've been proposing forever."

Now is when he should agree, you think. At least that's what you imagined—the moment you give in, he'd be springing up with a grin, as enthusiastic as he always is. But now, Sunwoo doesn't budge. He doesn't react at all until the slight tilting of the ground beneath your feet ends up throwing you off balance.

"Be careful," he mutters, quickly reaching out to hold you steady, and then helps you sit back on your stool. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." You shoot him a smile once you're properly seated, and he immediately lets go. And for some reason, you actually find yourself missing the warmth of his touch as it quickly disappears and is replaced by cold air. That's a thought for another time, though. "Why wouldn't it be?" you say instead, rolling your eyes at him. "We're going to have a great night, aren't we?"

"Y/N... hey, what's wrong? Talk to me."

The denial is at the tip of your tongue but dies instantly when you glance at him. Already, the Sunwoo in front of you doesn't look like the one you've interacted with on campus. This one seems completely different, like a real person instead of the one dimensional side he’s always shown you before.

So you give in and decide to confide in him for the first time. "Well, for starters, I don't even know why I'm here. I thought this would at least be better than spending tonight in my apartment alone, but maybe it isn't."

"You're not alone. I'm right here."

"No offense but… I'm not really sure that having a fuckboy as my only company makes it any better."

"Hey, no. What?" The frown on Sunwoo's face deepens to the point where you can barely remember what his signature smirk looked like. You barely remember what was so irritating about him in the first place when he looks so serious now, even genuine. "Is that really how you see me?"

"Then how do you want me to see you? All you've done is try to flirt with me since the minute we met, and we've never actually had a real interaction outside of that. Until now."

And for once, there's no flirty retort, no smirk, no mischievous twinkle in his eyes. For once, he has no comeback at all.

"Like, what do you want from me, Sunwoo?" you continue, still running on liquid courage. "Why are you here and not with all the other people you could be with? I'm sure you have plenty of people to spend the holidays with, so are you here out of pity because I'm alone? Or is it because I'm just someone you want to mess around with for fun?"

"No, what? Shit, Y/N, I—" He pauses and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not here for anyone else. I only came to this party at all because I was hoping you'd be here."

"Why would you do that?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you can see the many emotions flashing across his face. It's strange. You'd only ever seen the happy exterior he shows the world and never thought too much about it, but seeing him like this is putting him in a different light. And when paired with his words, you're finally starting to see that things might not have been what they seemed.

That there's more to him and to the behaviour that you'd easily dismissed.

"Because..." Sunwoo slowly drags out. "I wanted to see you. And hang out with you. And get to know you better—oh come on. Y/N, you're really going to make me spell it out?"

"Spell what out? That you're in love with me?"

"That—" He stops, and you think he's going to deny your little joke, but he doesn't. Even under the dim lighting, you can see the tinge of red spreading across Sunwoo's cheeks to the tip of his ears.

How is that possible? You had no idea that was even possible, and frankly, you still don't. But putting all of it together makes too much sense for it to not be true. The way he acted around you, the way he intentionally tried to get your attention each time—perhaps this rare moment of sincerity tonight is showing that it's true. It’s real.

"Really?” Your heart speeds up a notch despite not knowing how to respond to this sudden confession. "That's quite a way of showing it. Why couldn't we just talk normally then?"

"I… I guess I wanted you to notice me."

"Notice you?" you repeat, thinking he’s kidding until his gaze drops in embarrassment. "Have you ever looked in the mirror? Anyone would've noticed you, Sunwoo. You didn't have to act like an asshole for that to happen."

"You're not like that." Then before you can say anything, he continues. "But hey, give me a little credit here. I thought it was a dumb idea too, okay? It's all Chanhee's fault, that bastard. Honestly, I don't know why I believed him for a second."

You study him again, searching his face for any sign that this might be a joke, but there isn’t any. Sunwoo meets your eyes and it’s like you can see through him for the first time. If anything, the part about everything being Chanhee's idea does sound legitimate, even though the only thing you know about the guy is that he has inadvertently ruined your holiday by inviting you to this party.

"Y/N, you're not alone, okay? And I'm not trying to mess with you. I know I've been an asshole and this party has been absolute trash, but give me a chance to turn things around? You deserve to have a nice holiday."

"I guess." The situation is so strange that you no longer know how to react when he's being so genuine now. "Then… let's get out of here and have a much better time than everyone here, yeah?"

"Alright!" He does spring up from his seat now, with the same enthusiasm that you'd always pictured. "You're the best, babe."

"Don't push your luck, boy."

Sunwoo's smile only grows wider at the sound of your teasing remark. You might not know what's in store for the rest of the night, but the way his whole face brightens may just be enough to say that coming to this party was worth it after all.

#sunwoo fic #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #tbz scenarios #tbz fic #tbz fluff #my fic #i thought i could get away with minimal editing on this one but #oh boy that did not work #it's ok this is just writing practice #man i haven't written tbz FOREVER this feels weird #esp when converting other characters to tbz members hmm

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bonny-kookoo · 2 years

Text

Yoongi: 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 🔞

In which Yoongi wears a hairtie around his wrist for a lot of reasons.

Tags/Warnings: est. relationship AU, hints at Idol!Yoongi but never specified, it's a smut-shot so lord forgive me for I have sinned, Oral (female and male receiving), yoongis hands because they need to be a warning, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, slight switch!Yoongi, I need a nap

Fic length: Mid

A/N: I blame @min-yoonified this time.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

Against what one might believe, Yoongi loves holding hands.

He holds it when you're in the car together, casually driving somewhere you want or need to go. He likes holding it when you watch a movie together, his thumb running over the back of your hand in circles. He loves holding it while he sleeps, always pressing a kiss to your connected hands as a goodnight-gesture instead of words. He also likes holding it just to remind himself that you're there.

And he's awfully in love with your hands, just as much as you are with his.

Its not just the visual differences that fascinate him, but more so the way you touch him. It's gentle, it's caring, it's loving. It makes him feel special and cared for, fills him with a warm fluttery feeling inside he cannot describe properly.

And sometimes they're not so gentle- and in that specific situation, he loves them too.

He's got his hair tied back to keep it out of the way, your hand holding onto the little ponytail as if your life depends on it, while he eats you out skillfully as always. He likes the slight pull, the way you can't control it whenever he's like that with you. It let's him forget about all the expectations people have on him, because right now, only your opinion matters only you, no one else.

He's at your mercy.

Or at least until your first orgasm- because while you're trying to pull him off, he himself has other ideas, ignoring the way you tug on his hair, thighs trembling as he doesn't slow down at all. No, instead he let's his hand join in on the fun, giving him some time to catch his breath, lips red and glistening from his time between your legs. "Yoon-ngi-ah-!" you gasp out, head falling into the pillows below as your back arches, body unable to decide whether it's too much or not enough.

"Yoongi-ah?" he chuckles. "since when so formal?" he jokes, a couple of strands of hair having escaped the black hairtie by now, including the faint silver one's that he'd recently started to grow. His hand is eager to push you further, fingers pumping rhythmically while the heel of his palm keeps pressure on your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. It's agonizing and exciting at the same time.

"ple-ease-!" you whine, whimper when you're feeling your second high approaching rapidly, his pace quickening while he dips down to lick over one of your nipples shamelessly, eyes never leaving you. The sounds you make fuel his own growing arousal, dick in his boxers painfully hard. He can't help it, needs something, anything to take the pressure off of it- grinding against one of your legs, naked thigh providing enough friction to make him grunt in pleasure.

His hand is slower now, helping you calm down while he himself doesn't stop, can't stop. "ugh-" he groans, whines almost as his wet hand leaves your core, grips your other thigh, fingers slippery with your release. "please, I need-" he calls out, and you know, you always know, reaching out to palm him through the fabric of his underwear. He doesnt care if he cums like this, your hands feel great anyways. You know exactly how to work him, how to move, and then you do that thing where you just slightly run your nails over the tip of his cock-

And his mouth opens in a satisfied groan before he rests his forehead against your collarbone, kissing the skin with closed eyes.

He really loves the way you touch him.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Hey Yoongi, have you seen my hairtie?" you wonder, walking into the living room where he's lazily sitting on the sofa.

"yeah, I have it. You need it?" he asks, and you nod, letting your hair fall out of your hand that had held it up for the moment. "come here, I'll tie it for you." he says, patting the front of the sofa between his legs. You happily sit down on the ground right there, letting him run his fingers through your hair to properly collect it all. "Did it get longer recengly?" he wonders to himself, and you shrug.

"I think so." you simply say, enjoying the way he carefully wraps the hairtie around your hair. He's always known how to do it, same with braiding. His hands are skilled in many ways- more than just musically, you'd found out over the course of your relationship. "thank you Yoongs." you say, turning around in between his legs, hands on his knees as you hold yourself up, pouting slightly when he leans away from you. "gimme a kiss!" you demand.

"give me five bucks." he responds teasingly, pecking your lips a few seconds after- though he makes it clear that a simple little kiss is not what he's after. "hm, I love you you know that?" he says, and you chuckle.

"you just want me to suck you off." you joke, and he laughs as well, smiling at you.

"well, will you?" he wonders with raised eyebrows, and you roll your eyes playfully.

"my god you're not even hard!" you respond, and he gets that dark look in his eyes, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"you know that changes with a single touch of yours, darling." he hums out, and you can't help but give him one thing; he's really good at smooth-talking.

"you and your fucking romantic words." you mumble, while you undoe the belt of his pants, popping the button of them before you pull down the zipper as well. And he actually seems to be right- because just that action seemed to have a very visual effect on him.

"hey, there's a reason I'm good at my job." he cockily replies, watching with hooded eyes how you palm him through his underwear, before pulling him out. "though a man must be fucking impotent or some shit to not get a boner with a girl like that between his legs." he praises, hand reaching out to tuck some hair behind your ear. The moment you start to teasingly suck on his head, his hand moves however- holding onto your ponytail, a good grip now controlling your movements instead of yourself.

You relax your muscles while your hands give the rest of him attention- everything you can't fit not being left out of the fun. "hah..~" he moans under his breath, head falling backwards for a moment as he just let's himself enjoy the pleasure for a second. "god fucking hell you're so good to me." he tells you, breathing picking up as your tongue moves distinctly around his length- something he's never experienced prior to being with you. "ah fuck-" he whines, and then he catches your gaze.

He absolutely loves that sight.

His grip on your hair tightens, now actively controlling your movements as you let him chase his high and use you, and it's not until you swallow around him that he cums down your throat with a scrunched up expression that only relaxes once he's finally shot his shot, holding you in place for a second or two, his head thrown back in bliss, before he let's you go again. "hmm come here." he pats his legs after, signalling you to sit down on his lap, and at first you think he wants to cuddle- but then he helps you situate yourself on his thigh instead.

"Yoongs I don't need-" you giggle, but he just smacks your butt at that, before his fingers grip your hips.

"shut up, I need to see you cum." he growls out, helping you ride his thigh eagerly, wet cunt soaking the material of his pants- but they provide lovely friction, just enough to rile you up, not though to hurt.

"Yoongi-" you whine, and he knows, he always knows, helping you come undone under his watchful eyes, gaze never leaving you as you come down from your high.

"I really want to fuck you right now." he mumbles against your neck, hands wandering up and down your sides while you laugh.

"always such a romantic." you sigh dramatically, and it's then that he manhandles you to lay on your back on the couch, before he gets up to fetch a condom from the bedroom. When he returns, he's shed his clothes, uncaring by now of his own nudity because it's you, and he feels comfortable enough around you to be himself, no matter what.

"you know I love being romantic sometimes." he laughs at you when you giggle.

"and by romantic you mean screwing me on the couch?" you challenge, making him smirk above you, hands holding down your wrists.

"by romantic I mean fucking you stupid so all you can think of is me." he lowly tells you, and you can't help but laugh- him joining as well.

Oh how romantic Min Yoongi can be.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #min yoongi imagines #yoongi imagines #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #bts smut

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bitterie-sweetie · 1 year

Text

Better than the movies

Pairing: Hoshi x reader Genre: fluff WC: 2.4k Warnings: alcohol, swearing

Everyone else is having fun at the party except you. And even worse is that the resident fuckboy just won't leave you alone.

You know it's not your friend's fault. It'd be easy to blame her for insisting on bringing you to the party and then leaving you alone, but you also willingly came despite expecting that to happen. Maybe it's not too big of a deal, though. Your drink goes down smoothly, and you can vibe to music from here. Spending the holidays alone is totally fine, right?

At least it is until you spot him.

Kwon Soonyoung, the resident 'too hot for his own good and knows it' fuckboy, who happens to enjoy annoying you for his own entertainment. Why the hell is he here? You didn't know he was close enough to Joshua or Jeonghan to get invited, but then again you don't know much about him outside of the moments when he shamelessly flirts with you.

Now, he's alone and scanning the room. You watch him as his search continues, mildly intrigued that he'd care enough about this person to weave his way through the crowds. Lowkey, you hope he doesn't end up finding them so that he'd be just as alone as you are at this party. Maybe as karma for teasing you all throughout the semester.

And maybe then you'd feel a bit better about being alone.

But what you don't expect is that in the next moment, he suddenly turns towards you and meets your eyes. Forget all the remotely nice thoughts you had about him; you take them back. Kwon Soonyoung has the audacity to smirk as he makes his way towards you, and he's all too quick for you to make an escape.

"Oh look who it is," your enemy greets, settling down on the stool beside you. "Fancy seeing you here, Y/N."

Great. If you'd known that Joshua and Jeonghan invited him, you definitely wouldn't have come here tonight. Perhaps you should've written Soonyoung's name down on the 'do not invite' section of the form they sent out, although based on what you've heard, that section is actually used as a list of people they have to invite. For the chaos it'll cause or something like that.

"So? What's the most beautiful person doing here all alone?"

"Fuck off, Soonyoung," you mutter into your drink, not wanting to deal with him now of all times.

"Ah, I see," he nods to himself. "Yeah, the party is kind of lame, isn't it? How about we get out of here and do something more fun?"

"Don't you, like," you gesture vaguely, "have anyone else to bother?"

"Wow, that's so mean, Y/N. Come on, it's the holidays. Can't you make my wish come true and be a little nicer to me?” Soonyoung pouts just slightly and you can no longer tell if he's still joking or not.

You sigh, feeling the annoyance dissipate into a pang of guilt instead. He's not wrong—you probably should be a little nicer when it's the holidays and all. But before you can mutter an apology, he's moving his seat closer to you so he can lean in like he does every time he manages to sit beside you in class. It's nothing to react to, having grown all too used to it.

And yet… in class it's one thing. Here, it doesn't quite feel the same.

"What about you?" you ask, quickly changing the subject and looking away before the thoughts can continue. "Are you this nice to everyone?"

He's silent for a moment and you think you've managed to catch him off guard. But soon enough he bounces back just as easily. "Do you want me to only be nice to you?"

You lift your drink to your lips and use that as an excuse not to answer him.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t push it. Soonyoung stays silent for the next while and opts to sip on his drink quietly beside you, only turning to people-watch when you do. The rest of the party seems like an entirely different world from your corner: there's loud music blasting in the background and the room is filled with a sea of smiles and laughter. You can see your friend dancing on the table while Wonwoo silently begs them to come down, and over by the tree, Mingyu and his friend are all whispers and shy glances.

Overall, the party looks like a success. You can’t spot the hosts anywhere, but it seems like they did a great job with it if everyone is having a great time. Well, almost everyone.

Soonyoung follows your gaze. "They look like they're having fun."

"Then why aren’t you with them? That could be you too."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "I could think of much better things that you and I could be doing."

"Yeah? Like what?"

That has you nearly laughing out loud. Soonyoung has said that to you so many times that it's lost all meaning already, and you're not sure he even means it, really. At most he's simply trying to get a rise out of you, to annoy you just so he can say you're hot when you're angry. It's hilarious how little variation there is to his tricks; by now, you know all of them by heart like bad lines from a movie you've watched too many times.

On the other hand, why would he purposely be doing this? You shift a bit until you're facing him, trying to read him to maybe get a hint at his intentions. Tonight he looks less irritating with the filter of dim lighting and alcohol obscuring his face—those sharp eyes are softer, less smug, and his smile isn't quite as cocky either. It’s as if he looks sincere for once. As if his asshole persona is finally cracking and you're getting a glimpse of the person underneath it.

And maybe it’s seeing him like this, or maybe it's your judgment becoming more blurred by the minute, but you start to think. Would it be such a terrible idea to go with him and find out what awaits you? Surely it can’t be worse than being at this party and feeling like you're alone in a room full of people. It can’t be too bad if there's the off chance it might actually be fun, and maybe you’ll be able to figure out what his deal is.

Besides, the fact that he's the one keeping you company here while your friends are nowhere to be seen has to count for something.

"You know what? Okay, sure." You down the rest of your drink and set it aside. "Let's get out of here."

“Wait what?” Soonyoung merely stares at you for a moment as his smile is gradually replaced with a confused frown. You're not sure what kind of reaction you were expecting, but admittedly, it wasn't this. “Are you serious right now?"

Now is when he should agree, you think. At least that's what you imagined—the moment you give in, he'd be springing up with a grin, as enthusiastic as he always is. But now, Soonyoung doesn't budge. He doesn’t react at all until the slight tilting of the ground beneath your feet ends up throwing you off balance.

"Be careful," he mutters, quickly reaching out to hold you steady, and then helps you sit back on your stool. "Is everything okay?"

"Y/N... hey, what's wrong? Talk to me."

The denial is at the tip of your tongue but dies instantly when you glance at him. Already, the Soonyoung in front of you doesn't look like the one you've interacted with on campus. This one seems completely different, like a real person instead of the one dimensional side he’s always shown you before.

"You're not alone. I'm right here."

"No offense but… I'm not really sure that having a fuckboy as my only company makes it any better."

"Hey, no. What?" The frown on Soonyoung face deepens to the point where you can barely remember what his signature smirk looked like. You barely remember what was so irritating about him in the first place when he looks so serious now, even genuine. "Is that really how you see me?"

"Then how do you want me to see you? All you've done is try to flirt with me since the minute we met, and we've never actually had a real interaction outside of that. Until now."

And for once, there's no flirty retort, no smirk, no mischievous twinkle in his eyes. For once, he has no comeback at all.

"Like, what do you want from me, Soonyoung?" you continue, still running on liquid courage. "Why are you here and not with all the other people you could be with? I'm sure you have plenty of people to spend the holidays with, so are you here out of pity because I'm alone? Or is it because I'm just someone you want to mess around with for fun?"

"No, what? Shit, Y/N, I—" He pauses and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm not here for anyone else. I only came to this party at all because I was hoping you'd be here."

"Why would you do that?"

That there's more to him and to the behaviour that you'd easily dismissed.

"Because..." Soonyoung slowly drags out. "I wanted to see you. And hang out with you. And get to know you better—oh come on. Y/N, you're really going to make me spell it out?"

"Spell what out? That you're in love with me?"

"That—" He stops, and you think he's going to deny your little joke, but he doesn't. Even under the dim lighting, you can see the tinge of red spreading across Soonyoung's cheeks to the tip of his ears.

"Really?” Your heart speeds up a notch despite not knowing how to respond to this sudden confession. “That's quite a way of showing it. Why couldn't we just talk normally then?"

"I… I guess I wanted you to notice me."

"Notice you?” you repeat, thinking he’s kidding until his gaze drops in embarrassment. “Have you ever looked in the mirror? Anyone would've noticed you, Soonyoung. You didn't have to act like an asshole for that to happen."

"You're not like that." Then before you can say anything, he continues. "But hey, give me a little credit here. I thought it was a dumb idea too, okay? It's all Jeonghan's fault, that bastard. Honestly, I don't know why I believed him for a second."

You study him again, searching his face for any sign that this might be a joke, but there isn’t any. Soonyoung meets your eyes and it’s like you can see through him for the first time. If anything, the part about everything being Jeonghan's idea does sound legitimate, even though the only thing you know about the guy is that he has inadvertently ruined your holiday by inviting you to this party.

"I guess." The situation is so strange that you no longer know how to react when he's being so genuine now. "Then… let's get out of here and have a much better time than everyone here, yeah?"

"Alright!" He does spring up from his seat now, with the same enthusiasm that you'd always pictured. "You're the best, babe."

"Don't push your luck, boy."

Soonyoung's smile only grows wider at the sound of your teasing remark. You might not know what's in store for the rest of the night, but the way his whole face brightens may just be enough to say that coming to this party was worth it after all.

#hoshi fluff #hoshi fic #hoshi scenarios #soonyoung scenarios #soonyoung fic #soonyoung fluff #hoshi x reader #soonyoung x reader #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fluff #my fic #last one in the series until end of year!!#then hopefully... i'll be able to write the rest that i had planned

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the-ninja-legacy-whip · 6 months

Note

Haha I wonder how movie!harumi (is there a movie harumi? Now there is) would impact the three lloyds. Since there was no great devourer in movie land I'm betting she's her normal untraumatized self and I wonder how show and legacy lloyd would handle movie lloyd actually getting along with her maybe even dating her

I, for one, would think it’d be tragic hilarious if it’s like a superhero situation where Movie!Harumi is super into the Green Ninja, and Movie!Lloyd just shamelessly capitalizes on that (complete with upside down Spider-Man kiss or something) because even though they may be on good terms at school, he doesn’t want to ruin her good reputation with his own for being Garm’s son and tries to keep his distance as a civilian

Movie!Harumi: Do you think the Green Ninja would go with me to prom? Haha just kidding…unless?

Movie!Lloyd: *whispering* Oh, bet.

Show!Lloyd: Uhhhh, no bet!!! NO BET!! CEASE AND DESIST—

Legacy!Lloyd: Only if you check her for knives first

Movie & Show!Lloyd: ???????

Legacy!Lloyd: …What?!

(…That, oooor it’s Meowthra that destroys her apartment+parents instead, which is still something she could blame Lloyd/Green Ninja for with a burning passion lol)

#it’s a very id ego and superego situation lol #that’s a psychology joke #into the ninjaverse #llorumi #lil bit

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blackpink-ocs · 23 days

Text

# jisoo:

" unnie that's the weirdest thing you've ever done and said congratulation"

Contact name: jisoo unnie 🖖

In the first meeting, jia thought that jisoo was a model or an actress from how pretty she is. But that soon changed to that's the weirdest unnie she knew of. Yet seeing as jia is really outgoing it didn't intimidated her. after all living with two older brothers makes you sometimes question your sanity. But jia matched her energy so well. That now she is the one who can annoy jisoo the most and this is where she try to pull up her I'm the oldest sister card. Key word try because she will end up laughing with her at herself.

# Jennie:

" unnie, what do you mean you don't want to meet me in your next life?, unnie you don't want to be blessed with me?"

Contact name : mandu unnie

Baby blinks thinks that jia and Jennie are sisters. After all you can't blame them, the look similar to each other appearance wise, the same squishy cheeks, the cat eyes and the same sassy attitude on stage . Jia even though she is the youngest she is really protective of Jennie, so no one dares to even say s single bad thing about her. Jennie always said that jia was the missing piece of their group when she came everything felt right and complete.

# Rosé:

" rosé don't go emotional on me now, my little fragile heart can't take it"

Contact name: foodie unnie

If she was honest jia will tell you that she thought that she and rosé wouldn't work out. That's her first mistake, she judged too early because she thought that the older girl was too quiet for her liking and the truth was that rosé was just observing her. When these two shared their hidden stack of snacks when they were hungry one night in the dorm, they became best friends and soon ganged up on Lisa. Those two loves food in new places and gossiping. You get it right these two know the gossip of the whole industry including their own and laugh about hos stupid they are while a movie playing in the background.

# Lisa:

" I swear to God, my brain cells aren't made for this"

Contact name: Dumb

Jia and Lisa are the dumb and stupid duo. You can't figure out who is who. Jia always prided herself of being a smart girl, after all she always was the top in her class, she can speak multiple languages, she is the smartest between her siblings, and yes she says that shamelessly. But something about being with Lisa makes her logical side evaporates into nothing. Actually these two in the beginning were ennemis, their coaches always put them against each other back then but before debut they made up. These two you can't leave them alone for just a second.

# Miwa:

" thank you for being with me, just thank you"

Contact name: mi- chan🩷

Jia and Miwa have established a bound so pure and precious. They are grateful to have met each other. Sisterhood doesn't mean you have to share the same blood and they knew the meaning of that when they met each other. One of the main reasons that jia worked so hard to prove herself in the short training period that she had compared to the other girls was to debut along with Miwa. She was the first to tell her and trust her about her brother identity when they were still trainees and Miwa always stood beside her when some girls wanted to bully her because they were jealous of the girl who just came and all the coaches praised her. blinks loves these two interactions because it doesn't seem to be a boring moment between these two. These duo is the unstoppable duo in K-pop that they begin to call them Lilith and the siren. Lilith being jia and siren being Miwa of how much they know how to utilize their dark femenin energy on stage and off stage and how their energies matches so well with each other. That even experts begin to study their energies and give tips to be like them.

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bloompompom · 1 year

Text

⟢ always the quiet ones

eren mistakenly took his new lab partner for being quiet, only to discover she was so much more than that. college au, mutual pining, casual sex, porn with feelings. word count: ~13.2k

⟢ birthday boy

you hook up with eren on his birthday, ensuring it's a night he never forgets. modern au, friends to lovers, casual sex, porn without plot. word count: ~2.3k

⟢ cold, cold, cold

for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up... modern au, haters to hate-fuckers, rough sex. word count: ~5.8k

⟢ count to ten

you give your husband a polaroid camera, granting him exactly ten opportunities to take whatever pictures he wants of you. domestic au, established relationship, consenting sexy photos. word count: ~4k

⟢ drive-in distraction

tonight's horror movie double-feature won't be the only thing that has you wanting to scream. domestic au, established relationship, public sex, quiet sex. word count: ~5.6k

⟢ extra benefits

in which you treat eren to some of the other benefits of your arrangement, and he gladly returns the favor. modern au, friends with benefits, casual sex. word count: ~5.3k

⟢ a little joy

your pregnancy comes as a surprise, but the even bigger surprise comes when you tell your husband on christmas, twelve days later. domestic au, established relationship, some angst but mainly fluff, smut with feelings. word count: ~6.4k

⟢ the opposite of star-crossed

you had been best friends with eren for the last five years. surely, if there were something between you, you would have known by now. right? college au, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, porn with feelings. word count: ~5.6k

⟢ playthings

it wasn’t your fault that you accidentally walked into the wrong room, and you’d only take some of the blame after you shamelessly came crawling back for more. college au, strangers to lovers, casual sex, porn without plot. word count: ~6.8k

⟢ rebounding

“don’t you want to give it a try? i mean, haven’t you ever thought about it?” roommate au, complicated feelings, rough sex, porn with minimal plot. word count: ~10.5k

⟢ room for dessert

in which you help your boyfriend discover he may or may not have a thing for getting you pregnant. domestic au, established relationship, breeding kink, semi-public masturbation, temperature and food play. word count: ~3.1k

⟢ tits for tat

I hope you have a good idea about how you’re going to pay for that tattoo… tattoo artist!eren, semi-public sex, rough sex, content some readers may find dark. word count: ~6.7k

⟢ trouble

star player of the paradis devils has been trying to impress his favorite ice girl for months but she's strictly off-limits—and she knows it, too. hockeyplayer!eren/icecrew!reader au, casual sex. word count: ~1.8k

⟢ wake up slow

after a steamy dream, you seek out your boyfriend for some sleepy sex on a lazy, rainy morning. domestic au, established relationship, morning sex, porn with feelings. word count: ~3.2k

⟢ your boyfriend eren

narrative-style headcanons about boyfriend!eren. domestic au, established relationship, rough sex, some possessive behavior. word count: ~3k

#eren x reader #eren one shots #masterlist #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #nav #bloomy's one shots

369 notes · View notes

firefly--bright · 2 years

Text

belonging.

jean kirstein x gender neutral! reader (they/them pronouns used)

academic frenemies to lovers, modern au

how was he so good at everything? how did he manage all of it? how did he make you feel like this? how did he see you?

warnings : strained parental relationships, highschool angst, academic pressure, mild eren yeager slander.

a/n : holy shit this turned out longer than i intended it to. making a part two but it might take a while cause i have exams (how perfect) coming up soon :'). anyway, i hope you like this one, kinda self projected alot jdkwjfls im okay i was listening to mitski and hozier while writing this can u tell

tagging : @chuusposts , @a10vely-yutazen (sorry for the late tag!)

• main masterlist is pinned! • taglist is open! • fic playlist •

“the test wasn’t that hard, you know?” you say, completely aware that you were being petty, but god it felt good to be better than him at something.

“I never said it was hard,” he mutters under his breath.

“you submitted it late.” You reply snarkily, seeing his ears heat up in embarrassment.

“whatever, we’ll see how the grades are. Don’t you have anyone else to annoy?” he asks, and you know you’ve won by the way he says ‘whatever’ with the roll of his eyes.

The way he always did when he didn’t have a point to make.

You smiled slightly, pettily, but satisfied. You knew you did well.

You walked to your next lecture after collecting your books, yawning in the process. God, you needed some well deserved sleep. Maybe even watch a movie or two consecutively. But you couldn’t. you felt like you had a target on your back if you took even the slightest bit of a break, or had even the slightest bit of a social life. It didn’t make sense how Jean had both, all from what it looked like, and was still doing good in school. Good enough to compete with you, that was.

Hey, atleast you were doing better than last year.

You took a seat near the window, not paying attention to the way Jean was looking at you while entering the classroom.

It baffled you. how was he able to manage having it all? popularity, no matter how much of a social construct it was, people who loved him, and good looks? you couldn’t even deny it. He had almost everyone in Shingeki High wrapped around one of his knobby fingers that lent you a pencil last year. You didn’t blame them, he was the reason the school won almost every year, the reason everyone who lost hope during the game found their strength again to play. He was the one who persuaded Marco Bodt to rejoin the team. Marco Bodt, too, was like him, just less in the spotlight. He didn’t like the spotlight, you realised.

You didn’t blame him. it wasn’t like you didn’t want attention, but it seemed like the moment you had it, you got anxious, palms sweaty, breath heavy, the whole nine yards.

You didn’t notice Jean slipping his backpack next to your seat until your teacher started teaching the new topic.

You did notice, however, how he kept glancing at you. was there something on your face?

You rubbed your nose, then your cheeks. You adjusted your hair, too, just in case. You didn’t think there was anything wrong with your appearance. Maybe Kirstein had a staring problem. He used to stare at Mikasa a lot, too, before she got hitched with Yeager. A true tragedy in Shingeki High.

You tried to pay attention to whatever Mr. Smith was teaching, but considering the fact that you got almost no sleep last night studying for the test, and the fact that Jean was now shamelessly staring at either you or something out the window, you couldn’t.

You could catch up though. You’d already read the chapter he was currently prefacing.

“alright, class, I know you will be dreading this, but I will be giving everyone a group project,” Mr. Smith’s voice boomed, as the class erupted in low chatter. Everyone turned to the people they knew, but your face remained motionless.

You wanted this to be over with. You wanted, no, needed a fucking break.

Bet your brother didn’t need a fucking break, your mind whispers.

“I will be assigning everyone their partners.” Mr. Smith spoke up. everyone groaned, as jean’s head turned towards you again.

You joined the collective groan, as you turned to the boy sitting next to you. “why the fuck do you keep staring at me, kirstein?” you ask in a harsh whisper.

Jean shrugs, “you seem tired.”

What?

He noticed?

More importantly, he cared?

You tried not to show how flustered it made you feel. Big deal, he did the bare minimum. Besides, it was obvious you were tired, it wasn’t like you were trying to actively hide it. At least, you weren’t anymore.

“well, I am. a little. I just need sleep.” You mutter, and you know he heard it, but he continues to look at you with… pity? pride?

no. resolve.

His brows furrowed, his jaw locked, his hands resting on the table. you had seen that look before, while he was taking tests. The same face he made while he was at practice and you were under a tree, drawing the scenery before you.

You shivered slightly. Because of the wind form the window. Yeah, the wind.

Jean turns his head to the board again, as mr. smith names pairs of students to do the project together. You didn’t know what jean was going to do, but you knew he would do it. Jean Kirstein, a man of his word.

“yeah. You need sleep, it shows.”

Ah, yes. Jean Kirstein, an honest man.

You rolled your eyes.

“jean kirstein and (y/f/n).” you heard, snapping you out of whatever daze you were in.

Fucking amazing.

Jean turns to you again, and you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as you will yourself to not look at his pretty face. “goodie. Can't wait to do everything by myself.”

The bell rings, and you pack up whatever you had laying around.

“be my fucking guest.” You say to him as you walk away.

He, of course, follows. “what, you want me to take credit for it? Would that look good on your report, (l/n)?”

"my report would still better than yours after it, so.” You snap back. You really were not in the mood for this. “when do you want to meet up for the project?” you ask, “will after school today work for you?”

You hated to admit it, but this was probably the only “break” you’d get. Your parents only ever let you go out if it was for studying, and even that was rare, since they claimed they didn’t trust anyone in your school enough to let you go off with them.

But jean, however, had seen your parents. He had managed to charm them, even, at your middle school’s science fair, with his big words and sources and incredible topic. If you told your parents you were with the boy that got second place in the competition, they would maybe allow you to take some time in the café, away from them.

jean winced, “cant do today, sweetheart. Got practice. Tomorrow, though? Does that work for you?” he asks. You weren’t sure if he was trying to get you flustered or mad because of the nickname, but nevertheless, you were both.

“yeah, im free tomorrow. Have fun at practice. Don’t trip and fall on those untied shoelaces.” You say, glancing at his feet, speed walking away before he could reply.

You turned around only a bit, seeing him check his shoes, marco bodt standing behind him and looking at him confused.

You turned ahead and allowed a small smirk.

You tried your best to not focus on your mother’s words, you really did. But by god it was harder to do that by the second.

“you know, when I was small, younger than you, people would see my art and want to copy it,” she boasted, holding your sketchbook. “I was really good.”

“well I guess I inherited it from you then, huh?” you ask, deciding to humour her, the edge in your voice was sharp enough to cut paper.

“you still have a long way to go.” She says.

She gets up from her place on your bed, leaving a dip in your mattress. “anyway, what fruit should I cut up for you? and don't ask for watermelon, the season for that has passed.”

“im not hungry. I had coffee.” You say, turning back to your homework as you hear her say something about how coffee will shorten your life span while walking away.

You glanced out the window and sighed. The clouds were pretty grey today, and you wondered if it was going to rain. You wondered if you should go out for a run if the gloomy weather subsided. Maybe if your brother was up for it, you could take his car and go to the pizza place a block away late at night.

The pizza was pretty crappy, but it was the only time your brother and you ever held a conversation. Whether it was about your school, his college, some show you were watching, anything.

You were glad you both put your differences aside after you turned 14. He was the only one who ever made you feel seen with parents who made you feel like you didn’t exist for majority of your childhood.

It was nice. You hoped he wasn’t in one of his crappy moods tonight.

A notification rang from your phone. Assuming it was just a spam number, you went back to writing the essay you had to write for English, legs shaking under your table.

Another notification.

You ignored it once again.

Your phone vibrated twice, indicating that you were getting a call this time.

Finally snapping out of your focus, you turned to your phone to see the words ‘jean kirstein physics’ calling you.

Oh, yeah. You forgot you had his number since the last time you were paired up with him.

You picked up, rolling your chair far enough for you to lean back and stretch your legs.

“hello?” you spoke into your speaker.

“hey, practice got cancelled ‘cause it looks like it’ll rain. Do you wanna hang out?” he asks, and you can hear soft music playing in the background.

You shrug . “yeah, sure. Also, we wont be ‘hanging out’, Kirstein, we need to work.”

You can hear his smirk again. he never tries hiding it, atleast not when he’s speaking to you with that cocky tone. “whatever you say, sweetheart. Come on, get ready. im out your door.”

Your eyes widen as you roll towards your window, seeing his car infront of your room. “how the fuck?”

You can see him wave through the window of his car. He’s leaning forward slightly, his hand resting on the steering wheel as he waves with its, his phone in the other hand. He’s smiling.

“I know your address from last time, babe. Come on, I don’t have all day.”

You roll your eyes as you flip him off through your window. “ill be down in ten. Oh, say hi to my mom before you pick me up. she’ll think im using you as an excuse.”

“oh? You’ve used me as an excuse?”

“no, dumbass, I don’t need to. She’ll think I am, though. Also I think she likes you. or, she tolerates you more than Ash, anyway. Something about their hair makes her bitchy.” You check your door to make sure its closed.

You hear him laugh. A swarm of butterflies make their home in your belly. You slip a small smile of your own. “okay, then. I’ll say hi. be downstairs quick, though.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

True to his word, jean kirstein does knock on the door to let her know he’s the one picking you up. your mom doesn’t complain as you slip your shoes on, which you assume is a good thing.

You save him just in time, though, as your mom smothers him with questions youre sure he hasn’t thought about yet. His face and shoulders relax when you tell him you should leave.

“bye, ma. Be back by 9.” You say.

“8 o clock! No more!” you hear her shout as you close the door.

“well that went better than I thought it would.” You tell jean, who has a hand on his heart, eyes still wide.

His neck snaps towards you, and you try not to laugh at his expression. He continues to walk towards his car as you trail behind him.

“well? That’s well for you? jeez, I felt like I’d have a heart attack with all the questions,” he exclaims. You put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him relax under your slight touch.

“you’ll live.”

He opens your passenger door for you to slip in. you thank him quietly, letting yourself get comfortable in his car. His cologne was even more present in his car, and a poloroid of him and his friends hung from a string from his rearview mirror. The flash was bright, and you recognized most of them. Jean had his arms around sasha braus and connie springer, as armin alert squatted infront of them, sporting a bright smile of his own. Behind the trio was marco bodt, smiling, ofcourse. You doubted you had ever seen him not smiling and you wondered how he didn’t get tired. mikasa was next to armin, squatting and laughing at eren yeager, who tried to squat but was falling down as the picture was being taken. On armin’s left was annie leonheart, with her hands in her hoodie pockets, a slight smile playing on her lips. rare of her to do, but not unusual when she was with armin.

You hadn’t talked to armin well in about a year. The last time you had talked to him was the winter formal as a sophmore, where you both agreed you’d be better of as friends anyway.

He didn't reply to your texts much after that.

Jean slipped into his seat, buckling himself in.

He hands you his phone. Taking it, you look at him questioningly. He cracks his neck, running a hand through his hair as he speaks, “play whatever music you’d like.”

Surprised he’d trust you with the greatest honour of letting you pick music, you played a song you knew he’d like, hoping he hadn’t listened to it already. The music flowed through the car as did the cool air from the ac.

“where are we heading?” you ask as jean starts driving. His left hand, the one he has doodles on, grips the steering wheel while he drives, as his right one rests on the gear, his fingers thrumming against it to the beat of the song.

“do you remember that café from last time? There.”

You take a moment to sit in stunned silence. Jean didn’t seem to realise that you were basking in a new feeling.

He remembered?

It wasn’t a surprise that you remembered, considering that their coffees were one of the most expensive yet the best tasting coffees you had ever had. You remembered him paying for you. maybe that’s why he remembered? there was nothing memorable about the last time you got paired up with him, if you thought about it. You genuinely thought he had forgotten about the place.

But as it turned out, he did not forget.

“oh. The one with the expen-“

“expensive coffee you really liked? Yeah. Honestly, theyre more of milkshakes than coffee, but to each to their own, I guess.” He says, glancing at you before taking a turn.

“of course you wouldn’t appreciate the good coffee,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest, “which ones do you like, anyway? Black coffee to be pretentious and feel grown up?"

“hey, black coffee is good!” he exclaims.

“predictable,” you mutter under your breath, knowing he had heard you anyway.

He shakes his head, gaze still locked on the road. “I don’t really like their coffee. I can stand their cheesecake though. And hey, if anyone’s pretentious here, its you. youre the one who likes their coffees” he says, arguing childishly. In his defence, you were technically enabling it.

A smile plays on your lips, “its not like go there all the time! Only for a treat.”

“a treat? So, like, everyday?”

“haven’t been there since three months, actually. And the last time I did go, like a couple weeks ago, they were closed.” You defended yourself.

You saw jean’s lips quirk up as he shook his head. “today is a treat then? With me?”

“don’t flatter yourself.”

“admit it, sweetheart. You think im a treat.”

“I do not. Youre the one who insists on paying for my drink. You don’t have to put on the gentleman act for someone who is going to accomplish much more than you.” you say, not really meaning your words. He knew, of course, he knew what you meant. He side eyes you and the previous butterflies seemed to have multiplied.

“im not acting like a gentleman. If you want the whole package then ask me out for dinner first, then we’ll see. And fine, if you wanna pay so bad-“

“I never said that-“

“then you can. Be my guest, waste your money.”

Your bickering went back and forth, and you realised how much you credited jean for his conversation skills. If this was ash, or even your brother, they’d be sick of your constant petty jabs, but jean wasn’t.

Another thing about jean kirstein that you found yourself mentally noting : he pushed you to be… better? You didn’t know if the bickering counted as being better, but academically speaking, he was the top of the list when it came to you pushing yourself to be the best you could be.

The one time you felt seen was when you were with him. Ash would always talk over you, and you liked that about them, you really did. but was it so bad for you to want to be heard? Just for a bit? Even if it was only for a while, even if it was only about studying, you liked jean to be the one you were competing with.

And as much as you hated to admit it, you also liked being partnered up with him. it was like a superpower you had discovered while being paired up with him the last time. You realised how much you could accomplish when you were with him. like he was your driving force, in a way.

The last time you had been paired up with him, he had introduced you to almost everyone in his friend group. You didn’t get particularly close to any of them, but you were glad to be a part of their little group anyway. Ash, connie’s… crush? Friend with benefit? They hadn’t put a label on it, but you could tell that Ash was glad you were coming out of your shell as well.

That was until winter formal, before armin said you two should be friends after being the one who asked you to go with him in the first place. you weren’t mad at him, per say. You knew who he was, and what he was was a good friend. you didn’t expect him to officially ask you out, anyway, so it was all water under the bridge.

After he started to distance himself from you, you did the same for him. he needed his space, and you respected that. you didn't know how that translated to you distancing yourself from the rest of the group, but somehow, you did. The only person you sort of kept in touch with after that was jean, and even that was only rarely. You and him never went out of each other’s ways to make plans, hangout, or even text after that. Yet, whenever you talked to him, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

Which was dangerous. Jean had… a reputation. He was pretty, it was obvious. He was smart, and he was good at soccer, and practically everything else anyone could ever be perfect in. after mikasa and eren finally started dating, he started dating, too. some people here and there, you heard Ash tell you about his new partner almost every two months. He wasn’t a heartbreaker, though. He was always respectful about his relationships, but it still felt forced. Like people were only dating him because they saw him being perfect all the time. like people saw himself as how they wanted to and not who he really was.

You remembered him telling you about it once, before the winter formal. He told you about how he felt the need to be perfect because if he wasn’t, people wouldn’t like him. more importantly, he felt like people should like him, because for the longest time people hadn’t . the moment he started to achieve things was the moment he was noticed, if not loved. the moment he started showing himself, even if wasn't the version he wanted, he was praised. He didn’t want to lose that.

You remembered hugging him after that. He hadn’t cried, but his eyes were glistening as you sat on someone’s bed at someone’s party. You patted his back, rubbing circles there, as he kept his hand on your thigh.

You wondered if you were the reason your friendship with him changed. You wondered if your brother moving away for MIT was the reason you started not caring about how people viewed you and more about how your grades would look.

You wondered if jean would… like you if you had persisted and stuck with him when he started to distance himself.

“y/n?” jean calls out to you, as you snap out of your thoughts drowning you.

“hm?”

“we’re here, dumbass. We’ve been here since two minutes. Where’s your mind?” he asks, flicking your forehead. He does it gently though, to not hurt you.

You shake your head. “nowhere important.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, stepping out of the car, as jean follows behind.

Jean ended up paying for your drink before you could stop him.

You didn’t complain this time, mainly because you were too focused on your textbook and the way jean’s shoulder was brushing yours.

It irritated you, of course. Stupid jean’s stupid warmth, stupid perfume, stupid stubble. He’d grown so much since sophmore year, you almost didn’t recognize him. he grew out the aforementioned stubble a little, only a little, and you could almost tell that he spent the entire summer growing it out. His previously short and choppy hair grew out floppy and sometimes fluffy hair that, in your and everyone else's opinions, suited him. you had heard him talking to Marco about getting a mullet in the future. as someone with common sense and eyes, you didn't deny how good he looked, with or without the mullet.

And as someone with common sense, you also didn’t tell him just how pretty he was. You were sure he knew already, with his smug face and almost everyone lining up for a night with him. it didn’t help that he had a good personality, too. it would’ve been so much easier to act like you hated him if he was actually a terrible person.

But no, he was a good person, and you were reminded of that fact when jean passed you a tissue after you devoured your milkshake-esque coffee, and offering you a piece of his cheesecake.

After a good three hours of studying the topic and coming up with things to put in your project, jean stretches his arms up, letting out a yawn in the process. His shirt rode up a bit, as you averted your gaze and focused on packing up your books and pens.

It was almost 8 pm, and you were surprised your parents hadn’t called you home yet. Did they really trust jean that much? Or was the text you sent to your brother enough to lay them off for a while?

You stood up letting out a breath, trying to even out your breathing. Maybe they did trust jean to let you stay so late. They wouldn’t be mad at you for studying with someone, right? And if they asked, you could show them the notes. Nothing to be stressed about. Then why was your heart beating so hard?

Jean placed a hand on your shoulder. “let me take that,” he says, pulling the bag from your arms.

You were too tired to complain, as you followed him to his car like a lost puppy.

The ride home was also peaceful. No bickering, no discussions, no questions. You guessed jean was tired, too. the song you picked out for him played softly as you reached home.

You unbuckled your seatbelt, collecting your bag and phone. Before you could push the door open, however, jean grabbed your wrist, making your head turn towards him.

The headlights of his car reflected on the inside, making his brown eyes glow a slight yellow from the side. his noes and eyelashes created beautiful shadows on his face. “are you sure youre okay?” he asks in a low voice, almost whispering. “you know that im…. im here for you, right? We’re friends.” He says.

Your heat beats faster. You swallow, feeling a lump forming in your throat. He said you were friends. Like the casual type that you’d call up at random times to tell them about your day, like the ones that went to grab coffee together, the ones that invited eachother to parties and introduced all of your other friends to.

Its not like Ash wasn’t your friend. right? Just because they were hanging out with connie a bit more didn’t mean they were completely ditching you right?

God, were his words really enough to make you feel seen?

You shrugged. “of course I’m okay.” Leaving it at that. You didn’t tell him about how much your mother’s words from earlier had hurt you, or how much you wanted to feel included in something. It was embarrassing. And coming from jean? Even more so. How had he noticed? Didn’t he stop talking to you after the formal? Wasn’t he the one who only talked to your for your notes?

Wasn’t he also the one to lend you a pencil a good four months after said formal? Wasn’t he also the one who asked how your test went, starting a conversation between you two after almost five months of almost nothing except waves from across the hallway?

Again, why was this affecting you more than it should have?

He was looking at you, concerned and not convinced. “I just need some sleep.” You clarified, hoping that will make whatever was going on in his mind stop.

His hand left your wrist and you immediately missed the warmth he provided. He sighed, blinking. “well….if you ever need anything, im only a text away, alright?”

He smiles. And not in the typical, smug, I-want-to-look-good smile, but the soft, gentle smile. The corner of his eyes crinkled, his eyebrows and shoulders relaxed. He looked like him again, like the night he thanked you for holding him after his rant at the party, like the day you and him went out for coffee without telling your parents, like the day he invited you to a party and introduced you to all his other friends, like the day he had called you to tell you about his surprisingly good day.

You gave him the same smile you returned to him all the previous times.

“I know.” You whisper.

You didn’t want to leave. You desperately wanted nothing more than to stay here, basking in his cologne and smile and warmth for the rest of your days. You could rot here and flowers could bloom from your skeleton and still be content.

But by the time you could do any of that, you had already gotten up from your seat, turning to shut the door.

Jean was looking at you then, when you crouched down, meeting his eyes again. he was looking at you the same way he was when you drank that milkshake coffee in under two minutes. “im here for you too, jean. Don’t forget that.” You say, smiling. You turn and close the door before he can answer.

Before entering your house, however, you turn around.

He’s looking at you, smile still present, one hand stretched on the steering wheel as the other waved at you.

you waved back.

---

it was almost 1 am when you got the notification.

Jeankirstenoutoften sent you their story.

Stretching your legs from under your desk, you slump onto your bed, phone in hand. When you open the message, you see a story with a picture of you drinking the coffee, and another picture of you leaning down and writing in your notebook, with an emoji of a daisy on the side of the story along with your username tagged next to it.

The song was the same youd made him listen to in the car, which surprised you, to say the least. You didn’t know he would pay attention to your choice of songs, or even care, and the fact that he remembered to add that made yet another swarm of butterflies fill up in your belly.

You liked the story, adding it to your own with a green heart emoji, knowing jean’s favourite colour like the back of your hand.

Jean instantly messaged you after that.

Jean k.:

Why are you awake??

Why r YOU awaje, kirstein

Jean k.:

Cuz I wasn’t the one complaining about being tired, sweet heart

Also you have to get up at what

7? Tomorrow?

Your brows furrowed.

How fo uou know that?

Okay yes I a m tred but that doesn’t mean

that

I’ll actally skeep

Sleepig is fir looserd

Jean k.:

Jesus

Maybe you should sleep

The amount of typos youre making

It givbed charafter

Mayve you shuiuld look iy up

He was right. You were tired and sleepy, but you werent about to prove him right. He didn’t know you as much as he thought he did.

Jean k.:

Are you just trying to prove a point?

Well, shit.

Dint u habe practive tonroow?

Tonroow.

Yes I do

That’s besides the point

HYPOCRUSY

Ojg maybr we shoukd nap un ur car

Im not bringing my car tomorrow sweetheart

If you wanna sleep with me that bad

just ask

I dubt wabt to skeep with yu

I wabt to NAP wuth u.

they r complwtely diffebrbet

"diffebrbet" wasn't even close to different

Y/n

Please sleep

Do u tgink beyobce skept

…

Beyonce?

Are you asking me if beyonce slept??

Youre proving my point you need to sleep

Wgats ur fac fkower

Why does that matter rn?????

Ander tge dan qyestion

Fine

Tulips.

Is this twenty questions?

Is it my turn omg

Whats ur fav time to sleep?

…

Sweetheart?

y/n?

replied to themself

Whats ur fav time to sleep?

question answered

its now.

Sleep well, y/n :)

See u 'tonroow'.

Jean smiled. He quickly turned off his phone, putting it to charge after making sure he turned his alarm on for tomorrow.

Tonroow.

Maybe he shouldve stopping smiling so wide only because of a couple stupid messages from you, but he couldn’t.

Didn’t you get the hint? Didn’t you know that he only called you sweetheart? That he would never treat everyone else like how he treated you?

Maybe he was putting you on a pedastal, but in his eyes, its where you belonged. On a pedastal, with your sparkling eyes and pretty smile and sarcastic remarks. Maybe it was the way the chapstick you wore accentuated the smike, maybe it was your signatue earrings that moved slightly evertime you nodded that added to your.... yourself.

He wished he hadnt stopped talking to you. he knew what was happening to him, he knew what he was feeling and he was scared. So, like the idiot he was, he decided to push his affections elsewhere. Mikasa Ackerman never looked at him. not in the way he wanted her to, atleast. Mikasa Ackerman was an unattainable goddess, only having eyes for one person, who seemed to be reciprocating her feelings, even if he was below her level. Then again, so would Jean be if she ever were to glance his way. But he didn’t stop his “crush” from foring on her. It was better than it forming on you, someone also unattainable, but in a completely different way. You and him had been…acquiantances if not frienemies since what felt like forever. He couldn’t risk ruining that.

Even if he went ahead and ruined it anyway. He started ignoring you, slowly distancing himself after the formal, never once asking if you were okay after that. Never once asking what you were up to. Soon enough, you grew apart to the time inmiddle school, where the only words spoken between the two of you were insincere insults along with continous bickering, surface level jabs as if you didn’t see him almost break down in the room while a party raged on downstairs. As if you werent his close friend, as if you werent the only one who really saw him at one point.

He missed you. painfully so. He knew why he did it in the first place. he regretted everything about it, but he also didn’t do anything to stop it. He was…okay, right? Without you? life was better, he had gotten closer to marco, been accepted by this big group of friends who he knew cared deeply for him.

But he missed you. his group of friends werent you. they didn’t have the warmth you so openly offered to him without hesitation. They were amazing, really, but they didn’t hold him the way you did. they didn’t make his skin shiver the way you did, they didn’t make his car feel like the safest haven on earth with music playing softly, they didn’t smile like you did, they didn’t…. they werent you.

So, he did what he should've done in the first place. he had no intention of starting the project today, with the sumbission date being more than enough for him to cram in a week and still get a good grade on it.

But he wanted to see you. the real you, not the one you kept hidden in school. The person he saw sitting by the window, knees shaking, dark circles prominent under your eyes. He knew you knew he was staring, but he didn’t stop. You were sitting right next to him and yet you seemed so far.

Guilt swallowed him up whole along with regret. he was going to make an effort. He promised himself right then and there that he’d grow closer to you again, regardless of the fact that his too-strong feelings for you never really faded away, regardless of how scary said feelings were, he was going to try.

His forearm relaxed on his forehead as he closed his eyes.

And you looked so pretty today, the glow of his headlights illuminating the side of your face as you crouched to his eye level to tell him that you cared, that you’d listen to him if he ever needed it and oh, he needed it. He needed you. even if all the two of you did today was study and get work done, it was one of the most….full day he had. He felt full, content, and even if the table stretched in silence for most of the time, he felt like he wasn’t hidden.

He fell asleep feeling happier than he had since when he was crushing on mikasa.

Maybe he shouldve slept sooner. His eyes felt like they were on fire, the burn only calming when he closed them by blinking.

Connie passed him a cold red bull, noticing his tired state. Jean thanked him silently as he chugged half of it in one go, ignoring the stin that came with the cool liquid.

“did you not sleep like….at all last night?” eren asks, wiping the sweat off of his forehead. his front bangs stick to his forehead despite the cool weather. Coach ackerman had gone easy on the training today, and that was saying a lot. jean still felt like his bones were breaking.

“I did sleep. Got a late night that’s all.” Jean says. Despite eren and jean’s obvious dislike for eachother, they still considered the other a friend. they could be civil sometimes, when they felt like it. Which was rarely, but it still counted.

Pulling out his phone, he checks his phone.

3 unread messages from (y/n) <3

FUCK I FELL ASLEEP

This proves nothing.

Im still winning.

Jean smiles, opening your texts.

Uh huh. Keep that imagination going.

Is debate club over yet? I saw a couple of

the students hanging around the field.

Yeah I just finished

Got done early today for some reason

Same

Wanna come here so we can walk together?

My mom made omletes

I think she packed an extra one if youre hungry

Ur mom’s omletes do sound rlly good rn

Only if theres extra tho

Im pretty sure there is

she always packs more than I need

Although that was true, jean had specifically asked er to pack one more today, one for him, one extra, and one for you.

I'll be down in two :)

Drink water, kirstein, not just redbull

Jean smiles slightly, chugging the rest of his red bull.

“whats gotten you so smiley?” reiner asked as he ruffled his hair.

“is it (y/n)?” marco follows up with his own question, and jean feels like digging a hole and burrying himself in it right then and there.

“oh, (y/n)? I havent seen them around since sophmore year.” Eren says.

Jean shrugs while uncapping his water bottle. “yes, its (y/n). theyre coming down here right now.”

reiners brows furrowed. “you guys are talking again?”

jean hated the way he said it. He hated that everyone he knew also knew about how close you and him used to be at one point, however brief.

Yet, jean maintains his uncaring exterior, and shrugs. “never really stopped talking,” he lies.

Marco shoots him a knowing look as jean drinks his water, pretending to not notice it.

“talking about your grades doesn't count, horseface.” Eren says, getting up before jean could react.

He sees mikasa waiting for eren near the field, the latter greeting her by grabbing her hand and kissing her knuckles. Jean didn’t feel the jealousy he wouldve felt three months ago, he simply observed without the familiar feeling of subtle rage and sadness crawling up his heart.

One by one, everyone left to do god knows what, until only him and marco were left. They were sitting on the grass, jean’s body resting on his eblows with marco copying his stance.

“do you still like them?” marco blurts out.

If it was anyone else, jean would've denied any feelings towards you. that was the only thing he was probably jealous of armin for; the fact that the blonde was a far more convincing liar then jeabever could be.

Jean sighed, glancing at his phone, screen now blackened. “I think so. I don’t think my feelings ever….went away if that makes sense. Like, I hoped they would go away but they didn’t and now I just feel…”

“like a dick?” marco finishes with a small smirk.

Marco bodt was known in the school for his good looks and even better personality. He was kind, but not in the pushover way. he knew all the right things to say to someone under any circumstance. Jean was pretty sure that the only person who saw him crumble once was jean himself, when he reassured marco that hed do well in the match despite his then recent injuries.

But what everyone didn’t see was how…smug marco could be. He could be witty when he wanted, and his teasing would almost combat the one jean faced by you, too. it was in the good way, of course, and jean was glad marco felt comfortable enough with him to be open with him. jean would be caught dead voicing his affections, though, just like he would be if he ever gathered the courage to tell you about how he’d been pining you since before you and armin ever met.

Jean purses his lips, trying not to show his friend that he was right. Jean was sure he knew, though. Marco, somehow, like you, always knew. “yeah. Like a dick.”

“well, its good youre trying to patch things up with them now. Better late then never, yeah?” marco says as he gets up, wiping off the dirt on his hands. “see you in class. Have fun with y/n” marco winks, and jean catches the innuendo.

“its not like that!” jean shouts behind him, watching his back shake with laughs. Jean hopes his blush isnt too prominent for you to notice when you greet him.

Which you do, after another minute of him waiting on the grass.

“did you drink water? Your face is red.” You say, sitting down next to him, slipping your bag fro your shoulders.

“and how is water supposed to help with a red face?”

You shrug, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear. “water solves 99% of your problems.”

“will it make you less annoying?”

“it wont, but it’ll probably help you dance, maybe.”

Jean blushes even more. “oh my god, that was a year ago.”

You snicker. “but youre still terrible at it. Im pretty sure my toes are still bruised with the amount of times you stepped on them.”

“that’s not even possible, and also, you werent that good, either.”

“sure, jean-bo.”

“don’t call me that!” his blush was still on his face, now darkening furiously. You chuckle, which makes his heart skip a beat.

“lets just eat that damn omlete, yeah?”

#gender neutral reader #og #mine #self insert #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein #aot #jean kirstein x you #connie springer #sasha braus #armin arlert #marco bodt #jean kirschtien #snk

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