#been struggling with drawing my hair because my bangs keep getting long
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Stupid hair keeps growing fast and I keep having to change my sona’s look 😞
#been struggling with drawing my hair because my bangs keep getting long#I mean I can cut them but I been lazy gdhjj#so yeah new design I guess lol#🎨 chy creations 🎨#self insert
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Weak Immune System (KVCxmale!reader) Part 4
Shiratorizawa stood on the other side of the net from you, their players stood like walls of muscle, arms as long as your legs, or at least it felt that way to you. You glanced over at Hinata, both admiring and hating him for making you stick to the promise you'd made him about not refusing to jump in when asked. If you could look these guys in the eye and still be intimidated, how the hell did he feel?
They'd given you the first set to sit out and watch, the first set to get your bearings and think about what you were dealing with, you were usually good at this sort of thing, switching you in and out every other set was usually the best way to throw your opponents for a loop without upsetting the balance of the team, but for some reason, you couldn't stop your hand from shaking.
Probably because that inhuman monster was up to serve. Ushiwaka's eyes were on you, the new player, the one he'd never seen before. Did he remember you from the youth course? You certainly remembered him, playing with your brother, if you recalled, Ushijima had been rather fond of Masashi's sets. Your eyes panned to their setter, bangs cut at a sharp, straight angle, a first-year. You knew Eita's sets better, this one played very differently.
Outside the court, Noya cheered your name, while Tanaka mocked you for your trembling digits. You sent the buzzed egghead a look, but if he'd noticed then everyone else would too, you couldn't let them know you were nervous, so you laughed your friend off. 'Dude, where's your mute button?'
Ushijima reeled back, the toss went up, and you made sure your smile didn't fall, you could do this, you knew the ball would come to you. A new player, after they'd struggled so much with the leftie in the first set, for all intents and purposes, you were a weakness for your team right now. Shiratorizawa would want to test you.
The ball came flying straight toward you at breakneck speeds, the hair at the back of your neck stood up, your arms followed your eye-line, happing slightly to adjust of Ushiwaka's lack of accuracy, he had very clearly been aiming for you. For a moment, a heartbeat, the fake leather nestled against your arms, you flexed and hoped, and the ball went straight up, leaving behind a warm sting as it sailed in an ark. 'It's short!'
Kageyama adjusted, people were cheering, calling, but you were solely watching the setter, his eyes had flicked to you, imperceptibly. He wanted to set it to you.
You took off, long legs eating ground, arms swinging behind you, drawing in the blockers as your weight dropped to the balls of your feet. The ball was suddenly in your hand, there were bandaged fingers in front of your face, but your arm had stretched up above the block, upper body twisting to flick the ball past the blocker's arm. You only breathed when you heard the referee's whistle blow, you smile broad and proud.
'(Y/N)! Nice freaking kill sleeping beauty!' Tanaka tackled you, arm around your neck dragging you down to his height, messing with your hair. You were too busy laughing to complain.
Across the court, Tendo was glaring 'this guy's gonna be a pain in my ass.'
'Move your damned arms Tendo! You could've stopped that!' Coach Washijo belted. 'That spike was weak! Don't get distracted by their fancy tricks!'
You looked over at the old man, and chuckled 'jeez, who pissed in his cereal?'
'Meh, who cares?! Just do that again. Your serve, Kageyama!' Tanaka gave you one last clap on the back before you all went back to your positions. You were feeling energetic, eager, your tongue darted out to wet your lips, and you just knew your eyes were alight from the way Shirabu looked at you like you'd grown a second head.
You only hoped you could keep it up for this set, even if you only scored one more point...
Your lunges were burning by the end of that set, but your heard was on cloud freaking nine, you'd taken that set, your team had clawed it clear out of Shiratorizawa's hands. It wasn't a clean victory, but you'd sure as hell take it.
'Well then wise guy, maybe we outta keep you in a little longer!' Ukai declared playfully, you weren't sure if he was joking or not, but one way or another, your reply was the same.
'Whatever's best for the team, coach.'
Ukai gaped, only last week he'd tried to get you to play in a damned match and you'd faked a freaking cramp to get out of it! Just yesterday you'd subbed for Tanaka while Ennoshita subbed for Daichi after that overdramatic collision that left them both with a bruise.
You laughed at the coach's confusion, and nodded toward Hinata 'thank the shrimp.'
As you walked away to switch courts, someone stopped directly in front of you, a flash of bright crimson hair and wide eyes, inches from your face 'well hey there, pretty boy!'
You recoiled at the shock of strong minty breath in your face, how did he manage to not smell like a slab of pork in the sun after a set like that. 'Uh, hi?'
'You're almost as annoying as those damned first years,' Tendo cocked his head sideways, he reminded you of a parrot, but those yes were almost predatory, analyzing you 'what's your name, pretty boy?'
'Not that it's any of your business,' you casually pushed past him, hating that he was so freaking tall 'but it's Watanabe (Y/N).'
Before you could take two steps, Ushijima stopped and turned 'Watanabe, as in Masashi Watanabe?'
You chuckled bitterly, looking over your shoulder 'my older brother, I thought you'd remember him.'
'Oooh, what's this? You know the elder pretty boy?' Tendo sang in interest.
Ushijima ignored him 'you weren't at the youth camp last year.'
'Very astute of you,' you drawled, turning to sashay backward, away from them 'quit pickin' on my underclassmen, Ushiwaka. The only one who gets to tear into him for his shitty receives is me.'
'What was that about?' Sugawara asked when you rejoined him in the white square. 'Were you picking fights again?'
You shook your head quickly 'nope.'
Suga sighed in resignation 'Good grief, can't take any of your anywhere.'
The alarm for the next set went off, and all teasing went out of the window. Shiratorizawa shattered the third set, 25-18. It stung when each time he score, Tendo had the audacity to look up and wink at you, mouthing the words "pretty-boy" to you. Just to rub more salt in the wound, Ushijima's spikes bounced toward you more than once, one came dangerously close to ricocheting into Suga's face, it would've hurt like hell if you hadn't caught it. It was safe to say that you were now, in the mood to hurt these bitches.
Ukai grinned at the sight of you, perfectly still, eyes only on the ball as it bounced back and forth, fingers curling and uncurling.
'I think it's time we put you in, (Y/N).' he declared in between sets 'any objections?'
'No sir,' Daichi declared 'I could do with a rest if I'm honest.'
'Good. (Y/N), I have no idea what pissed you off this much and I don't care. I don't wanna see the reliable, under-control goodie-two-shoes. I want ya to get out there and make a mess, ya hear?'
'You sure about that, coach?' you crossed your arms, hip stuck out sassily 'Hinata's havoc enough.'
'My thoughts exactly.' Tsukishima drawled under his breath.
'Trust yourself kid,' Ukai clapped a hand on your shoulder 'just think outside the box. I'm not askin' ya to run around as Ginger does, I'm askin' ya to surprise 'em.'
You nodded, thinking about it for all of one second before you decided 'fuck it, let's get this crapfest over with, I'm hungry.'
'I love it when he talks like that!' Noya cackled 'Shiratorizawa better watch out!'
'I don't think I've seen 'im this ticked off in...well, ever.' Daichi muttered to Sugawara as the team took their place back on the court 'ya think this is a good idea?'
'Who knows, but it's (Y/N) we're talking about.' Suga shrugged 'he'll handle it.'
'Heeeey! Pretty boy's back on the court!' Tendo sang excitedly, practically dancing on the spot 'lookin' to make big brother proud? Been stuck in his shadow all your life?!'
You leveled him with a look, unreadable and cold, but it faded and was swiftly replaced with your most Tsuki-inspired grin 'My brother's been shorter than me since I was fifteen, my dude. It's my shadow you outta be worried about.'
'It's your serve (Y/N),' Kageyama called, snapping you out of your staring match with the guess-monster.
'Right,' your grin fell away as quickly as you had put it there, squeezing the fake leather between your hands, no bandages or gloves, ensuring full contact with the ball.
'Feed it to 'em (Y/N)!' Tanaka encouraged, forcing a smile to your face and loosening you up just that little bit for what you were about to do. You'd only been practicing it for a month or two, it wasn't likely to be accurate or reliable...but Shiratorizawa had taken a step back, braced for a power serve, so what else to do but a jump float?
You cringed, the ball hit net, in a place you sure as hell hadn't been aiming for, but then again, you wouldn't complain about a point.
Tanaka ran over for the required ceremonial chest bump, and appropriately messing with your hair before you served again, a grin on your face. You'd thrown them off once, wasn't likely to work again and you really weren't confident enough in your jump-floats, so you went back to your regular serve, it's force left your hand stinging and it bounced clear over the net when that first year wing spiker fumbled the receive.
'Chance ball!'
You were grinning from ear to ear, sweating like nothing else, but happy, each play tied into the next, and with Ukai's permission to tear into the court, you ran wild. Knowing you would be switched out for the next set, you had no need to conserve energy, and with the time you'd had to overanalyze every move Shiratorizawa made, you managed to find the perfect place to be to piss them off. After taking the fourth set, you sat your ass down and gulped half a bottle of water, grinning at the scoreboard. For once, Karasuno didn't just yank a win out a Deuce. No, the score read 20-25.
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I saw that your match ups were open and wanted to give it a shot. May I request a romantic twst matchup? I’m a Implagender omniromantic person that usually struggles a lot with my identity and personality, I’m south East Asian with tanned skin, dark maroon colored jellyfish cut, (but I usually put my bangs in a similar way like Haruka from pjsk cause I like putting on cute hair clips and head accessories). I’m usually pretty quiet around everyone but those I’m close to, I’m pretty loud and outgoing when I’m with people I get along with. I like to draw, play violin, cook, bake, and sew a lot. I’m really good with kids and bunch of other household tasks and I’ve done a lot of babysitting + doing a bunch of commissions for drawing and sewing things to earn extra money for myself since my family isn’t well off it also adds work experience I can put on resumes for the future. I’m pretty decent in school, although recently I’ve been doing a bit terrible since my motivation for school is going down and only finish stuff I feel like is easy/quick to complete. My love language is words of affirmation plus acts of service. I’m also really into fashion (specifically agejo hime and rokku gyaru + Ouji Fashion as well) and I love styling outfits. I want to become a kindergarten teacher in the future, and I’ve also composed a few songs on violin.
Hello! I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to finally get back to answering these! Thank you so much for your patience!
Now, onto our match up!!
I match you with.......
Lilia Vanrouge
🦇 Okay, look, someone has to be able to ame care of the Diasomnia family and make sure none of then get killed because of Lilia's cooking and here you come in like an angel sent from above!
🦇 No, seriously, they all love you, they live your cooking, Malleus especially loves hearing you okay your violin (as someone who also plays violin), he finds it rather comforting, and he is extremely happy that Lilia has found someone after so long.
🦇 The fact that you love children has Lilia falling even harder for you. He has Silver, and while it took him some time to get used to raising a child, liking children, let alone one that was human, after fighting in a war essentially most of his life and seeing how you are so easily able to care for others, how you are with children, how it just comes so naturally to you? He feels his heart swell and warm up at the sight. It also makes him wonder how different things could have been without the war and all. But, what's done is done.
🦇 Okay, back to the happy. He LOVES seeing you interact with children. How they always are so quick to warm up to you, the smile you have on your face and thr laughter? He smiles every time.
🦇 As for motivation? Who better than Lilia? Between raising Silver, training he and Sebek as knights, taking care of Malleus, Lilia knows his way around how to best keep someone motivated. Are some of his methods out there?........ most likely. But he really does mean well and everyone can see that.
🦇 If words of affirmation are what you need, then words of affirmation you will be getting. From the moment that you get up to the moment you go to bed, he will be sparing nothing. You have woken up many times with a simple rose near you with a heart felt letter or even a hand written poem about all the things he loves about you. And acts of service is something he does in his day to day life as it is and it only intensifies when he is with you.
🦇 Now, Lilia is rather old, meaning he has seen a lot of fashion come and go throughout the centuries, and he has worn and tried out many of them. If you ever want him to model, feel free and ask him, but also expect him to send out a flirtatious remark or two. But he absolutely loves this either way. Meaning he will also help supply any materials you may need. You'll never run out again.
🦇 Money is not an issue with him, and even if so, he basically raised Malleus. Malleus sees you as a parental figure. As soon as he catches and kind of money and financial issues, literally the issues will evaporate.
🦇 Overall, bat dad can and will provide. He will help you through it all, and give you as many affirming words that you will need, he will help you with modeling your clothes at time just to see that smile on your face. Just save Diasomnia from his cooking and all will be well
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst#matchups#twst imagines#disney twisted wonderland#romantic#twst lilia x reader#twst lilia vanrouge#lilia vanrouge x reader
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do you have any particular fic recs? 🤲 could be rdrd2, naruto, or whatever!
hi anon!♥ I've got some things I could recommend. But everyone's cup of tea is different! Maybe it's something for you too♥
Also I've read so much, I'm just gonna give you a few of my favourites each rn! Fandoms: Naruto, Red Dead Redemption and Jujutsu Kaisen ( plus two honorable mentions)
(and because this is getting long - read more under the cut!♥)
Naruto [now I've mostly read HashiMada fics and GaaLee]
Man of Dreams by ckret2
Hashirama put his highest hopes, dreams, and delusions into Konoha's creation. One was that, maybe, Madara didn't really hate him. Another was that, maybe, he didn't really love Madara. From Konoha's birth to the First Hokage's death. Onesided HashiMada.
( it's one of those fics recommended everywhere you look and really it's just THAT good. I've been losing my mind over it while reading and afterwards too. I'm still thinking about it sometimes and it's incredibly heartbreaking. Though it was written at a time where we didn't know about HashiMada's childhood story, it's still SO GOOD.)
Fading Light by Imarion
Without thinking much about it, Hashirama tilted his head slightly and something inside him purred as Madara's next breath was a shaky one. "Go ahead," followed a dangerous request that passed Hashirama's lips by itself. A thought warned him that he was losing control. Something like that had never happened before and yet goose bumps spread on his neck as Madara actually came closer after a contemptuous hiss.
The Uchiha took his time to analyze his scent up close, while Hashirama had to force himself to keep his hands still with each warm breath on his scent gland. There was no way he was going to touch Madara without his permission, but for heaven's sake he wanted to do the same as the omega. It would even be enough if he could dig his hand into that black hair just once.
( It's Omegaverse HashiMada and it's been one of the reasons why I have started to draw omegaverse founders! The tension of Hashimada in this one is killing me! It's still being updated♥)
Bloodied Hands, Bruised Heart by FiresFromOurHearts
In a world where Izuna lives, rather than dying on Tobirama's blades, one would imagine that things would take a turn for the better.
Things do not. Instead, they get worse, and Hikaku watches as his clan suffers and suffers and suffers. They are dying more than they ever have in the past. Something has to change--and if no one will do it, then Hikaku must do it himself.
( It's the big bang fic I did artwork for! And WOW, Firesfromourhearts still has me gagging over the amount of lore in this fic. SO GOOD.)
Diplomatic Relations by Maldoror_Chant
Rock Lee, Diplomatic Envoy to Sunagakure. There are so many ways that could go wrong. But Lee is determined to succeed! And to befriend the feared Kazekage too, while he's at it. Good thing Lee loves a challenge...
(THIS!!!! THIS FIC!!!! IT'S SO GOOD!!! It's Lee x Gaara and I swear - I SWEAR it's the best I've ever seen of them. It beautifully paints the absolute complex relationship of the two of them. It does show Gaara's struggles so well and Lee's too! Lee whose never thought he'd end up falling for Gaara and Gaara who doesn't really understand anything of it at the start. It's so so so good. It's one of those fics that keep sitting in my mind for the rest of my life.)
Native Birds of the Land of Fire by bombshells
Neji survives the Fourth Great Ninja War, but his actions have permanent repercussions on his life. Confronted with a destruction of everything he stood for before and tired of the cycle repeating itself, he becomes disillusioned as his uncle refuses to acknowledge him. Neji refuses to bow to him any longer, as he tries to determine the true nature of his relationships with his family, his friends, and with Tenten.
(The amount of tears I've shed over this fic is crazy. Nejiten is just so doomed and so beautiful. I loved every single word that has been written down in this fanfiction and I wholeheartedly give it out to anyone who wants to read a bit of NejiTen)
Red Dead Redemption 1/2
[truth to be told I've just started reading fanfictions here haha, so here comes what I've read so far. This is just the big ones I'm reading rn, there have been some small ones but these really struck me so far. There might be more given the next months if I continue to ball my eyes out for the sad cowboys. Like I've got some Dutch and Hose centred ones open that sound really good but I gotta read everything I've found first]
the night has opened my eyes by pinkchem91
"All he’s known is fighting and rage, he doesn’t know anything but. His father was all rage, died in it and with it. He passed it down to John, anger was in his DNA and he’d solidified it at eleven years old when he took his first life, just a boy with the blood of a priest on his hands. He should have felt bad, repented to the corpse perhaps but instead, he unsheathed his father’s old blade from his tiny boot and thrust it into the dead man’s chest three times, next to the bullet wound he’d haphazardly put there just moments before. He deserved it. Even though he still believed that to be true, a strange guilt prickles at John when he’s plagued by the memory of it. Rage, guilt and liquor were John’s most perpetual companions."
or
a canon-compliant character study of john marston
( This is Javier x John and also John x Abigail! Plus just camp things around and so far I really really like it! We're at chapter 4 now but the first thing I did after reading was to subscribe to it! So here you go!)
Brothers by gaslight
Out of all the ideas Dutch and Hosea have schemed up, thrusting Arthur into the role of older brother had to be the most ill-advised yet. Taking care of others, especially a boy with fire in his eyes and mischief in his heart, was far beyond his skill set. Destruction seeped from Arthur's fingers, laying waste to every good thing that ever came his way. It was only a matter of time before he would lead the boy to ruin.
This story follows John growing up from Arthur's perspective. Arthur struggles with the responsibility of being an older brother, particularly being looked up to, as his own actions cut away at his soul and his self-worth continues to erode. He teaches John different things along the way--with varying degrees of success--and strives to protect him from harm. This is easier said than done, as is Arthur's desire to prevent the kid from becoming like him.
( I'm a little weak for the sibling dynamic between Arthur and John. I admit it. And this I just found last night and I'm at chapter 3 right now. So far I absolute adore and love it! Got the right amount of being adorable and heartbreaking I need at the moment! )
Jujutsu Kaisen
found in translation by hiraethia
Suguru reached out, wiping the trail of blood from Gojo’s mouth.
“You are not a god, Gojo Satoru,” he murmured.
Something like feral delight danced in the other boy’s eyes. He bared his teeth in a cherry grin, half-teasing, half-pleading.
“Promise?”
OR,
fragments from three years of geto suguru’s youth.
( This is my favourite but srsly everything of this author is so GOOD. The way hiraethia writes is astonishing, I've never read anything like it before and for the writing style alone I'd read about any topic tbh. It's really really really good.)
lovesick lullabye - pastelcoloreddreams [NSFW!!]
"Satoru, you can't pretend like there's nothing more to us," Suguru appeals, grabbing the crook of Satoru's elbow. That certainly makes Satoru freeze but his eyes remain hard, an impenetrable fortress to the soft and vulnerable boy he knows still lives inside Satoru. "I still love you."
"Love? Is that why you left me?"
( I originally didn't want to include any smutty content, so just a warning heads up. BUT this author has written some of the most beautiful smut I've ever read. I don't really know how but the words the author uses just paints a realistic scene in front of my eyes. It's just incredibly good.)
Honorable mentions
(meaning I'm not really in the fandom anymore)
ghosts in the daylight by blueskiddoo
“So that the angel of death can’t tell the living from the dead,” he says. “So our ancestors can come back to us, just for the night, and the angel can’t take their souls back to the afterlife until morning.”
Hawks’ expression softens. His hands are sunk deep in the pockets of his stupid coat, his hair messy and windblown. “That’s beautiful,” he says.
“It’s not meant to be beautiful,” Dabi snaps. “It’s ours. Just ours.”
*
every year the people of dabi's village paint their faces with skulls for the burning the fields. every year, dabi burns.
(Yk. ... I've read a lot of stuff back in the bnha fandom and a lot of it was dabi stuff, majority of that dabi x chisaki stuff BUT this one - THIS RIGHT HERE - jesus. I remember sitting in the car, on my way back from berlin, my fiance and mom in law in the front of the car and I was in the back. I read this oneshot and all I wanted was to sob. I can't tell you why it hit me as hard as it did but it did and I often think of it.)
ANYTHING BY oxmoxic on AO3 if you're into Good Omens
Okay I think thats it! At least what I can spontaneously think of right now!
Thank you for the ask! I hope there's something you'll like!♥
#fic rec#naruto#red dead redemption#jujutsu kaisen#nevsnev#ask#anon#THANK YOU ANON#coincidentally I'm gonna throw myself on the couch to read now lmao#the brothers rdr fic doesn't read itself#thank you again <3
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Hi there 🖤 I just recently followed your blog and it's been an absolute delight, I love how much work you put into this community <3 Thank you, you're awesome!
I'm not sure if the ship requests are still open, but I'll just give it a try. If it's been too many already I absolutely get it c: here goes:
I'm a 26yo woman, long silver hair with bangs, greyish-blue eyes, pale, 5'6", I'm also an INFP. I'd describe my clothing style as gothy, dark and grungy (lot's of Killstar, Combat boots, comfy knitwear, plaits, long jackets/coats etc). My body type is slim, but very feminine. I'm a huge geek, I love movies and TV-Shows, gaming, cosplaying and daydreaming about it, it's my life fuel! I'm also very active, I work out regularly, love going for hikes especially in forests. I'm a highly creative and imaginative person and spend my days crafting, drawing, painting and sewing, I'm training to be a costume/stage designer for theater and film (I also love writing and used to study philosophy and literature for 3 years but didn't get a degree).
I'm an introvert and struggled with anxiety all my life. My alone time is very important, but my few very good friends mean the world to me and I cannot live without them. I'd say that I'm a good listener, tho I also talk and overshare a lot. I'm very much nonconfrontational and love to keep things calm and peaceful, but I got strong opinions and always speak my mind when I feel like I need to. My friendliness sometimes gets me into trouble bc it's so hard for me to be assertive and say no to things x_x I love people who make me feel safe and protected and encourage me to get out of my comfort zone <3
Man I hope this wasn't too long, I never know when to stop :'I if you read all this you're a real champ
(Begrudgingly ;) ) I ship you w/ Kai
I think the fact that you’re non confrontational can be a bit of a downfall to your relationship (because Kai may step all over you like a door mat) until you finally open up about the strong opinions you have and speak your mind. I think Kai would listen to you, because he’d really love you and respect you.
Kai is definitely someone to look out for someone who’s loyal to him, and will do everything in his power to reward you and make you feel safe.
He’s a gym guy, and I think a date for you guys could be going to the gym and going a work out (I’m thinking of my mini series now Lol BYE🤣).
He’d dig your style so much and I reckon he’d even let you match at times because he’s a slut for combat boots.
Kai’s definitely a geek too, so I think you’d share all those really niche things you enjoy together, and you wouldn’t feel weird or different for liking them.
And costume designer I mean COME ON you’re designated to mask designing for the cult (fuck off Ivy).
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Honestly it's been a while since I played mystic messanger, but could I please get a matchup?
I'm 17 and bilingual, I can speak italian which is my native language and english because I have russian relatives and instead of learning russian I learned english to communicate with them.
I go by she/they pronouns and I'm bisexual with female preferences.
I'm 5'11, I have round shaped face with a small double chin, pierced potato nose, long dark brown/black hair with bangs (I hate it), brown/hazel eyes and chubby, I usually dress in comfy clothes such as oversized sweaters and t-shirts with leggings and converse or vans or if I stay home I'll stay in my pj's.
My hobbies are writing, drawing, singing, acting and voice acting.
My mbti is ISFP, enneagram 4, I'm insecure with a low self-esteem, stubborn, I can be both introvert and extrovert (mostly introvert, but when I get comfortable I'm way too much extrovert), spendthrift, envious, easily affectionating and trusting people.
I'm dealing with anxiety and panic attacks since my father and my cousin passed away due cancer and I can't seem to elaborate their death, I know it takes time, but I'm being depressed, I also lost my grandma in law and my 1 year old pet cat Sophie who was hit by a car.
My love language is words of affermation, acts of services and gifts, also I'm a huge fun of couple goals like comparing hand sizes and others.
I like receiving physical contact such as cuddles, caresses and hugs and when people give me pet names like "babe", "sweetie" ect, comedy like I watch those fails compilations on youtube laughing my ass out, staying in bed all day, chinese and japanese food, makeup and skincare, lillies.
I have a pandora bracialet and every collected charm describes my personality, but I forget to wear it very often.
I dislike raspberries like blowing these on your stomach? that makes me sick, horror stuff (I rarely watch it), balloons popping, fireworks and firecrackers, discussing policity and news that involve murders, showing my sadness to my relatives and when one of them cries. There are a few more things that I dislike, but I think this is enough.
Thank you in advance <3
I match you with...
Zen!
You're the kind of person that loves love. You might not call yourself a hopeless romantic but devote yourself to everything you do in love. You care a lot about other people and make sure that what you do is done with purpose, the same way you expect someone to treat you when you're in a relationship. That's why a good choice for someone like you is someone who can keep up with this energy and ensure that you are treated the way you deserve.
Zen is your man. You find a sense of security in each other that nobody else would be able to understand. It occurs to him that you know what it feels like to go through the wringer, and it occurs to you that he truly understands what you struggle with all the time as if he has been through it himself.
You can be the confidant that the other person needs. Through thick and thin, you can count on him to be there for you. He knows that he can count on you, as well. You share things with each other that nobody else knows. It's safe to have a place where you belong and being with him feels like that. Being with him like this makes you feel like you can be the kind of person you've always wanted. He has a way of making you smile and laugh when you need it most.
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I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩
*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe
𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟
± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader
± word count: ~3300
± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation
song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi
George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.
While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.
Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.
A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.
You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.
You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.
You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.
The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.
The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.
At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.
You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.
He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.
His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.
His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.
“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.
His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know…” he trailed off, making you giggle.
Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”
He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”
Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.
You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.
George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.
You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”
You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.
You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.
He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”
And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?
You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.
George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”
“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.
You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.
You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.
You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.
The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”
You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.
You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.
Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.
He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.
“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.
He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.
As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.
When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.
All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.
Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.
If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.
As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.
His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.
You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.
He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.
One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.
Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.
He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.
He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.
At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.
The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.
“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.
George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.
Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”
Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))
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#punk!georgenotfound#punk!george#punk!gnf#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound imagine#georgenotfound au#georgenotfound smut#gnf x y/n#gnf smut#gnf x reader#gnf imagine#mcyt x you#mcyt au#mcyt x y/n#mcyt smut
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I'd Die Fighting
Request from @dramaclub-thin: Mafia BTS where the reader is shot for/because of them.
A/N: Thank you for your request! I really like the concept, and kind of got carried away with the stories and now they're too long. So I'll release them as individuals as I finish them. I hope you like them! ^-^
If anyone else wants to request you can here.
Mafia Bangtan Other parts:
Namjoon
Yoongi
Taehyung
Jungkook
Summary: Pinned down by the cops, you know you're the only one who can stop Jimin from getting himself killed.
Trigger Warnings: Police shooting, gun usage, blood, violence, death, ambiguous ending.
Jimin
Mafia! Jimin
You were in the middle of a scheduled pick up, collecting the gang's share of the profits for the month. There had already been 3 today and all had gone as routine as the times before. You're in a residential building site, parked in one of the driveways, and on a Sunday too, so it's nice and quiet and empty. There was no reason to think that this stop would be any different than the last.
That was until the lights and sounds of police sirens filled the street.
You could only watch on in dread as 4 cop cars sped into the driveway trapping you and the two men into a box. With a 10-foot foundation wall behind you and building walls on either side, you were now realizing that this location wasn't so much secure, as it was an obvious dead end.
Looking back in the side-view mirror, you can see Jimin with the dealer. The guy panics instantly, pulling out his gun without a chance to even aim it before he is blown away. There are dozens of deafening shots all at once and the guy, no older than you, drops down dead.
Barely able to contain your terror, you are not able to do anything but to watch helplessly as Jimin dives behind the rear of the car to avoid the stray bullets.
Slowly, the officers start down the concrete path, closing in tighter, all of them with their guns drawn, all of them looking alarmed and ready to fire. With this many cops, you know neither of you stands a chance. There is no escape here, not without a miracle. But you know Jimin. You know he isn't going to just give in. He's said it before, he's said it often. He might die, but he'll die fighting before he dies in a cage.
The officer coming closest to the car bangs on the hood to draw your attention making you jump. "Stay in the car," He mouths the words.
You can't abide. If you don't do something Jimin is going to get himself killed. He may be willing to die, but you're not willing to lose him. You shake your head hard, swinging the car door open, stepping out tensely with your hands upright. Your arms and legs are shaking with pure adrenaline, relying on nothing but a prayer that they don't shoot you right now.
"Get back in the car." "Stay in the car." "Miss, get back in the car." A sea of loud, demanding voices shout at you all at once. While your survival instinct is telling you to obey the angry people with guns, you ignore them all. Your instinct-your love for Jimin is greater than your fear.
Walking paced steps backwards, you're watchfully eyeing them. They're still pressing forwards, but they have slowed substantially. Half of the group aiming more aggressively, and the other half pointing their guns at you more hesitantly. Calls of stay in the car turn into orders to get on the ground. But you can't, you won't.
Coming in line with the back of the car, Jimin is knelt behind it his gun in hand. "Y/n! What the fuck are doing?!" he snaps, eyes full of worry.
He may bluster to everyone else, but you know the full expression. In private he'd whisper the ending to you and only you. 'I'd die fighting before I ever die in a cage. And I'll spend my life locked up before I ever see you hurt.'
"Get back in the car!" He growls.
"No," you whisper.
"Get back in the car!"
"No."
"Oh for fucks sake, will you just listen to me for once!" He growls, running his hand back through his hair, about to lose any composer he has remaining.
"No!" You shout, your eyes darting from the cops to Jimin and back.
He roars, grabbing your shirt, yanking you down the ground beside him. The commands of the police heighten and start coming more frequently as they steadily begin to entrap the two of you again.
"I'm gonna beat the hell outta you after this." He shouts, reaching over the top of the car to fire a slew of shots, not aiming to hit anyone but just trying to keep the cops away.
"Fine. Do it. But just let there be an after." You plead, eyes filling with tears. "Put the gun down. Please!"
"What?! No!"
"Come out with your hands up or we open fire." A far off voice, coming through a speaker, gives a sickening order.
Jimin's harsh defiant look turns to one of pure fright and frenzy. He knows if they're shooting at him, they're shooting at you.
His hand scrunches in the scruff of your shirt, dragging you flat to the ground further out of harms-way, using the same momentum to launch himself into the open, weapon ready. He gets only 2 shot off before they retaliate with more than half a dozen. Not all connect, one catching his leg, another his shoulder. The hits double him over, making him drop the gun.
It all happens before you are able to even turn back over. The sight of him struck has you screaming, acting rashly and impulsively. You wail his name clambering to your feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. Lifting him upright, you're covering him with your body as much as you possibly can. You don't pause think what might happen right now if the officers began to fire again. You only know you need to save him from them. Save him from himself. Pushing him with your chest, you force him back more and more until his body hits the foundation wall. You turn yourself around towards the encroaching men and women, shoving your weight roughly against him. To shield him, and trying your best to keep him pinned to the bricks so he is unable to act suddenly or foolishly.
Thankfully the cops still seem hesitant to shoot at you. Although you don't trust it for it to last much longer.
Your stomach drops, feeling a warm wetness dripping over the exposed skin on your upper back. Jimin's shoulder is bleeding heavily down you.
This is so fucking bad.
"Stop, please stop, Baby!" You whisper to Jimin, nearly unable to form the words due to the shake in your voice. It's just the two of you opposing 7 armed police officer. You know he hates the thought of defeat, he may even hate you for this, but neither of you has any way of winning this standoff.
His forehead presses to the back of your head, his hot breath fanning down your neck. In the smallest motions, you feel him nod against you.
Raising them in surrender, his arms come out from behind you. There's a sharp pain in your side with a sudden booming sound. It knocks your breath away. You whine, your hand squeezing tighter against his legs, into the fabric of his jeans.
"Y/n?" Jimin knows what's happening before you do.
One of the officers mistook Jimins actions as hostile and got twitchy with his gun.
You gasp slumping back into him, your legs weakening. He catches you, lowering with you as you fall to the floor. "Baby!"
Jimin looks up to the cop who fired. He's memorizing every detail of their face. Already having resigned to hunt them down and make them suffer.
Finally able to inhale, you cry out a low scream, pain spreading from your stomach up. "Jimin," you cry clawing his arm, fingers wrapped in his sleeve.
The swarm of police starts to move more frantically. A knee flies at Jimin sending him into the wall, separating him from you. Without him, you fall flat into the dirt. To your right one of the men is forcing Jimin to the ground with a knee trying to flatten him. But he isn't giving in, fighting and struggling against the weight, desperately trying to get back to you.
Even as there are three of them versus only Jimin, he is still putting up enough resistance that they are unable to fully hold him.
"Y/n!" He yells, as one of his arms is pinned behind his back, driving him heavily into the dirt. "Get the fuck off!" he snarls.
Your throat feels full. You're starting to choke, spluttering blood out and down your cheeks. Your hands clutching your stomach are wet and slippery from blood. The heavy amounts of it pouring from you making you weaker with each passing second.
"Alright!" There's a heavy thump as Jimin stops resisting and is plunged aggressively into the floor. "Just help her! Help her!" With all of the pain and fear you're feeling, it's the pure panic in Jimin's voice that finally brings you to tears.
Rolling your head towards him, his chin is dug into the concrete floor, his skin and clothes red with blood, his face pale and flush, his eyes red and teary with emotion. With him no longer fighting they are able to cuff his hands. They haul him to his feet, carrying his weight. He yells in pain, his cries turning into pleas for you, calling again and again for someone, anyone to help you.
One of the officers comes to your side pressing firmly on your wound making you shriek, spitting out even more blood. They speak into their walkie-talkie describing your state and injuries calling for an ambulance. Explaining that a male will be coming to the hospital by a police cruiser.
In front of you, the others are dragging a limping Jimin away. Being pulled from you he begins his fight again, battling to not leave you. But he's too injured and restricted to combat them much more. Only able to call out to you over and over.
Even as the car doors close on him, you can still hear him shouting your name. Even as you lose consciousness you can still hear the echo of his voice.
#bts#bts fanfic#bangtan#jimin#park jimin#yandere jimin#bts jimin#yandere bts#yandere bangtan#mafia jimin#bts requests#bts reactions#bts mafia imagine
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Hii I love ur writing !!! Can u plss write a fic where percy and annabeth are skinny dipping in the camp lake and calypso or someone walks in on them and gets jealous?? Thanku so much !!
hii, thank you so much<3 i couldn’t really find a way to have someone actually get jealous, like it didn’t make a lot of sense to me BUT i still hope you like this bc i actually think it turned out rly cute🥺
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“percy,” annabeth hissed as he stripped off his shirt. she looked around even though it was the middle of the night and the cleaning harpies were nowhere to be seen. “you can’t be serious.”
“come on, beth,” he smiled, kicking his shoes off. “live a little.”
“live a little?” she scoffed. “i have enough excitement in my life, i don’t need to skinny dip at camp, thank you. what if we get caught?”
“by who?” he asked, slipping his sweatpants off and leaving him in boxers. annabeth hated to admit it, but she could already feel her resolve waning. he was right, there was no one around. percy stepped closer to her, hands finding the hem of her shirt. she let him slide it over her head.
“this is a bad idea,” she tried again. but still she took off her shoes, and then percy’s fingers were in the waistband of her shorts. the warm july air wrapped around them, but annabeth still had goosebumps all over her skin. she was pretty sure that had more to do with percy taking off her clothes than the barely there chill of the wind.
it was their last summer there as campers, seeing as they would be turning 18 that year and then heading off to new rome for the fall. that was the reason percy had suggested skinny dipping. let’s go out with a bang, he’d said. annabeth hated that it wasn’t the worst idea he could’ve had.
his palms pressed against her bare waist and she shivered. percy leaned down to kiss her, which was a poor distraction for the way his fingers reached for the clasp of her bralette two seconds later. despite the several times he’s done this, he still struggled a little when it came to unhooking it, making annabeth giggle.
“don’t laugh at me,” he huffed. “it’s hard.”
“mhm,” she hummed. “very hard.”
the straps of her bra were then being slid down her arms and she glanced around again, still worried that someone would see them. “we’ll be fine, beth,” he promised.
“if we get caught, i’m blaming you,” she said. and then their underwear joined the pile of clothing on the dock. and maybe they should’ve climbed down the ladder or tried to slip in quietly, so they didn’t draw any attention to themselves, but percy had other plans. he grabbed her hand and didn’t think twice before jumping into the water, pulling her in with him.
their hands never broke, even when they surfaced. “percy!” she scolded, but she couldn’t help her laughter. “we’re so loud.”
“who cares?” he said, bringing her closer. “we’ve saved the world twice, and we’ve been to hell and back. we deserve some fun. who’s gonna stop us?”
“chiron? the harpies?” she shot back, only half serious. he was right again. they deserved some fun and even if they did get caught, it wasn’t likely that they’d get in trouble.
“yeah, whatever,” he shrugged. and then his hand slipped from hers, and he smiled that stupid, troublemaker grin she was so in love with. his fingertips touched her shoulder. “tag!” he said before swimming off, which was completely unfair given that he could control every drop of water around them.
“hey!” she protested, chasing him. they went back and forth for a while, and thankfully, percy seemed to not use his advantage of being the son of poseidon.
except once, when he was chasing her and then suddenly, despite her arms and legs propelling her forward, she stopped moving completely. within seconds, percy’s arm was around her waist. “tag,” he whispered, holding her close and turning her to face him.
“you cheated!” she replied.
“oh well,” was all he said before leaning in and kissing her. annabeth hummed indignantly but wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. percy must’ve used the water to keep them afloat and still because both of them had stopped treading water, only focused on each other.
it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before they heard, “well, well, well.”
annabeth snapped away, anxiety settling in immediately, only to dissipate a few seconds later. on the dock stood piper, her hands on her hips and a knowing smile on her face. “what do we have here?” she asked playfully. she bent down, and held up annabeth’s bra by the strap. “pretty incriminating, if you ask me.”
“what are you doing up so late, mclean?” percy asked, a light smile on his face.
“i could ask you the same,” piper said, dropping the garment back to the ground. “i was awake earlier, though, when i saw you guys sneaking away. at first, i left it alone. but then i got curious so i started looking for you.
“and you guys are very loud,” piper continued, a laugh bubbling out of her throat. “so it didn’t take long to find you.”
annabeth glared at percy. “told you we were too loud!”
“oh hush, it’s just piper,” he said back.
“it could’ve been someone else, though,” annabeth grumbled.
“i’m a little jealous i’ve never thought about this,” piper said, eyes flitting all around the lake. “i’ll have to bring jason out here one night.”
“no way, mclean,” percy said. “this is my turf, find your own.”
piper wrinkled her nose. “you suck,” she said. “and yes i will be bringing him out here unless you want chiron to know that you were out here tonight.”
“i hate you,” percy said.
“yeah, yeah,” piper shrugged. “i’ll see you both in the morning. please don’t have too much fun in there, we all like to swim in that lake, you know.”
annabeth’s cheeks flushed as she tucked her face into percy’s neck. “goodnight, piper,” she called, the finality in her voice making it clear this conversation was over.
“night night,” piper said sweetly before leaving them alone.
for a moment, percy just held annabeth close, his hands running over her back. “told you we’d get caught,” she mumbled finally, making him laugh.
“could’ve been worse,” he said, which was definitely true. “do you wanna get out?”
annabeth lifted her head up from his neck and looked at him. his wet hair was pushed back and his skin glowed silver under the moonlight. like always, he was beautiful and she didn’t want this moment to end just yet.
“in a little bit,” she answered before leaning in and kissing him again. percy didn’t seem to have any issues with that, only pulling her closer.
-
if u saw any typos no u didnt<3
#percabeth#annabeth chase#percy jackson#pjo#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#heroes of olympus#fic#gray writes
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Kaz Brekker x fem! Reader - The Saints Of Freedom
(Gif not mine)
A/n: So this just came up into my head... There's going to be so much Shadow and bone content I'm just saying in advance - I'm so sorry! Also Matthias is alive!
Warnings: Sexual abuse, abuse, harassment, angst, fluff, terrible men, death, blood, language I think that's it? You have been warned!
Summary: Some man from the Crow Club wants a good time with you
I take a sip of my water, sighing. Inej and Kaz are in the corner talking to each other, like they never broke up. Wylan and Jesper are in a couple seats over from me joking with each other like their lives depend on it. And Nina and Matthias are in a both in back, Nina trying to get Matthias to kiss her while he's trying to be decent. Apparently.
Why did I have to fall for the Bastard of the Barrel?
I shift around on my bar stool a bit so I can listen in on a conversation.
"Let's play a round of strip poker boys!" I flinch, nope not happening.
I guess I never really fell in love with Kaz, I drowned for him. Him and all his terrible ways and his broken mindset, I drown in that. I yearn for that death in an ocean of Kaz Brekker. Wanting that kills me, slowly although.
"James! Go get some Chicks!" I stiffen up and start to get out of my seat. I gracefully like a snake avoid anyone in the crowd slipping into the darkness acting as just another man looking for it's prey.
That way you go unnoticed.
A hand grabs me and forcefully drags me away from the entrance. Damn it, I was so close. I am harshly turned towards the person who dragged me away from my freedom. A shiver runs up my spine as a man with yellow teeth grins down on me. His left hand goes up and down my arm, while his right has a bruising grip on me.
"Your gonna come play some poker with us aren't you little- Umm let me think." The man pretends to think for a second
"Ah! Your a fawn!"
I freeze.
That's what my father called me when he use to rap-
Don't think about that you need to try and make up a plan to get out of here!
I realize that I'm dragged all the way to the back where a table is, too late.
"Come on girly, we want some." The monster says.
"Now." He growls.
I shake my head trying to get the thoughts out of my head from my home life. I can't kill them because their good pigeons to the Crow Club. But I can injury them if necessary.
"Your not even going to tell your name?" I look up to the man who dragged me over here, knowing that he's going to get me and will be the only one to get me. He got his prey now the others get to watch.
"It's James pretty girl, and take your pants and panties off now, if I win you'll get to keep em." The men around the table chuckle in delight knowing what will happen - he will try to loose.
"And if you don't?" I cheer myself on internally for not loosing it and keeping my voice strong. Stall, it's the best thing you get do.
"We really start playing poker than."
Lies. I hiss in my head, once my pussy is out he will do what ever he wants with me.
I place a hand on his arm, stall Y/n, stall.
"When does the game end?" I lean in and whisper into his ear like I'm trying to seduce him. Bile rise's up from my throat but I shallow it back down but then I realize it makes me seem like I'm nervous. Shit. He seems to have picked up on that though and he likes it. It means he has control.
His hand goes to my thigh.
"As long as I want." He pulls me onto to him and I struggle out of his grip. Five other men come and hold me down on the table. I attempt to wrestle them all and I almost get out, but two other monsters come up and hold me down.
"Let's give them a show boys!"
Tears gather up in my eyes.
"Monsters." I hiss at the men. One with blond hair punches my arm with the bed of his fist and a small scream is with drawled from my throat as I hear it... Crack! Fuck, it's definitely broken.
"You can't break a girl that's already been broken, you'll only get cut." I rasp my voice quiet but very, very angry.
"You litt-" He gets cut off from the other man who brought me to this torture.
"Gather round! People, gather round! Let's see what we can do to this pretty little fawn here?" The man - James says as he places a hand on my stomach. Mostly horrid men gather around the table but the odd woman is here too, probably the dumb ones. As soon as the predator got it's prey you run.
So your not it's next meal.
Struggling to try and get out of the men's grip on me, but it's hopeless. They have two on each limb of my body holding me down.
"Come on little fawn, it's time to play." The man whispers into my ear.
Memories flood into my sense's of my father. Doing terrible, terrible things to me. Marking me. Tainting me, as I learned not to scream anymore so mother wouldn't beat the crap out of me because if he couldn't get me - he got her.
The barbaric beast crawls onto me surely leaving bruise's and his hand goes to lift up my shirt and-
BANG! He's on the floor bloodied from where something hit his face. Hard.
The other men don't try and stop whoever hit the other vile man to the floor. I almost don't open my eyes to see who might be my savoir in fear that they just might want some.
I open my eyes.
Kaz! I think and I nearly sigh in relief.
"Let her go." Kaz says dangerously low and calm and the men practically drop me on the table.
Kaz's cane is still on the table as I sit up. Hi cane is pointed towards the men in question and at this point the other man starts to get up. Kaz nods to Jesper and Inej and she smiles a bit, always a pleasure to hurt some nasty men. Matthias seems to be guarding to doorway so now one can get out and Nina seems to go help Inej and Jesper as Wylan goes help Matthias with the door. Demo at the entrance, nice.
Kaz holds out a gloved hand, I take it and stand up next to him and at the angle we're at I'm pressed up against him.
"Come on little fawn." My father opens the door to my room slowly with a sadistic smile on his face.
"But fath-"
He lifts me up by hair and the cry of pain that would come from a normal child did not come, for they had not been train to be solider at seven.
"We don't call me that when it's play time. You know that." He growls as his hands start pulling off my shirt.
"Yes master." He takes my shirt off and h-
"Y/n." I voice says and I open my eyes and they lock onto some dark brown eyes. "Would you like to do the honours?" A voice rasps. I realize that Kaz is referring to the seven men lined up, held up my Nina, Inej, and Jesper and with some help from Wylan who has a grenade out to scare them.
I feel myself fade away like a I'm ghost.
Come on Y/n, be a good little fawn.
No. I think and push the memories back.
I go to the first three and I simply cut their throats with my double sided daggers. A man laughs and I swiftly turn. I then stab one in the stomach, the one who laughed while I killed the others. He howls in pain, I then simply kill him and the others till it's just the last one left. The monster. The one who dragged me away like a sack of kruge. Like I was a prize for him.
A ballistic smile creeps up on his face like he was paper and someone was drawing my nightmares.
It's my brother.
My brother who has the same smile as my dad, the brother who made fun of me at school, the brother who helped mom and beat me on his own accords as well. The brother who toke after our father in every way.
"You won't kill me." James smiles.
"You won't kill me." My brother says as I pull out a knife with serpent around it's handle.
"You still love me, I'm your brother." I drop the knife and he see's it as his chance and strikes.
The knives shake in my hands but I put them away.
"See." He chuckles like he knew what would happen. Imbecile.
"Your doing it wrong." Kaz limps up to me, the familiar pace of his cane hitting the floor. "You need to have a reason."
"I thought you didn't need one?" I sigh in disappointment of doing it the wrong way. Again. Kaz stares at me for a couple of seconds then shakes his head slightly like he's trying to clear his mind.
"No. You need a reason behind why we're here."
My brows frown in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Limping closer to me he places a hand on my shoulder.
"Why are you here?"
He walks back a bit giving me space to do my work. I suck in a deep breath, why am I here?
I release my weapon, an extension of myself and it doesn't hit the traget.
A man hits the ground with a thud, the man who tried to get a night with me yesterday is dead right on the ground. The blade embedded inside his chest and the snake sticking out.
Checkmate.
Kaz flash's me a smile but I barley catch it and it's gone in a blink.
"Good, not what do you want to be called?"
"Serpent." I whisper as I look up into his eyes.
"The Serpent."
I take out my knife with a snake around it's hilt always looking like it's moving and ready to strike.
Why are you here.
I close my eyes and it's done in a flash.
His ankles and hands are severed off and they drop to the floor like their separate bodies.
I lean in and whisper into his ear.
"The Serpent as struck and it seems." I grin a little.
"She has not granted you the mercy of death."
I lean in closer so only he can hear as he howls out in pain.
"Eight years." I breath. I come back up and turn swiftly out of the Crow Club shoving past Matthias who looks to be horrified but I don't know beause he did survive hellgate.
I stumble into an alleyway and I grip onto the brick wall.
The wolf is no more.
Streaming down my face tears flood my vision as I weep for all the pain, for all the years of torture finally the last one of them is dead.
Thump. Thump.
I hear the rhythmic of the crow cane but it seems to stop.
I lift my head up.
Kaz.
"Breath Y/n." I gasp in a breath and I stumble forward into his arms. I tense up and-
"Come on sister time to be a..."
"I'm not him." He whispers and it pulls me back into reality like an anchor.
He goes to try and touch my face but he stops midway and takes his gloves off. He touches his ungloved hand to my face and I can feel myself losing him to the past.
Think, Y/n! Think! He helped you, he saved you from everything! From your retched family, from the men today! He made it so you could defend yourself! He-
"Sankta Kaz." I blurt.
His eyes snap open and goes to back away.
"No, no, no! You can't possibly think of me as a saint!"
Normally I would be discomposed and would already be running out from embarrassment but a weird calmness wash's over me and a strange sort of serenity makes me want to go swimming.
"You may not be a saint to them." I point out behind him even though there's no people.
"But to me..." I pause trying to find the right words.
"You are my savoir. You saved me from my family." I walk up to him. "You killed my father and mother." I keep on walking closer. "You saved me from myself, you saved me today, and..." I trail off realizing how close we are.
I look into those dark eyes and I barely breath out,
"You gave me freedom."
I hesitantly warp my arms around him and he stiffens up but he relax's in my embrace. Our face's get closer and closer then-
"Why are you here?" It's the question he asked when I first learned how to throw a knife: What do you want?
"I am here because..." I trail off trying to find the words.
"I am here because of the kids." A new found confidence builds up in my chest.
"I am here to help the children safe from their abusive homes. I will help the children of Ketterdam." A fire of passion ignites in me making me bold.
"Will you help me?" The words hang in the air and Kaz looks into my eyes with a calculating gaze.
"I run a gang Y/n." I go to look away my face burning with embarrassment.
"But..." He takes my face into his hands.
"This Bastard can do both I guess." I grin in happiness and our faces finally get closer and we kiss.
Lightning crash's through me but I think of Kaz and our friends. Our lips shift together and I realize now that...
I'm drowning.
I'm drowning in Kaz, I'm absolutely deep into the ocean, falling but never rising. I just keep on going deeper and deeper till I pull away.
We pull away and I feel like a wave just crashed into me Kaz smiled and I whisper;
"Sankta Kaz."
Sankta Kaz the saint of greed. Sankta Y/n the saint of suffering. Together they are the saints of freedom.
Words 2383
-thedelusionreaderbitch
All rights go to Leigh Bardugo, Netflix and you! I just own the plot!
#six of crows#kaz brekker x reader#kaz rietveld#kaz brekker#x reader#wylan van eck#jesper fahey#inej ghafa#nina zenik#matthias hevlar#shadow and bone#fanfiction#oneshot
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Ohh your writing is wonderful... I’ve actually never requested before so I hope get this right but: could I request Billy Lenz x Gender Neutral Reader (AFAB if it’s brought up) with Billy sucking on his partner’s fingers and discovering they are really, /really/ into it but also super embarrassed about it? Bastard-ness ensues. Hope this request is ok!
Okay? This is waaay more than okay! I’ve been so excited about this prompt since I received it! I’m so sorry for not getting to it earlier. I hope like six months later is better than never though! I’m also super excited to be your first request! I hope this lives up to your expectations, whatever they may have been!
Just a few general warnings beforehand: Billy is really rough with the reader he uses some extremely degrading language as per the canon (I’ve excluded the term ‘piggy,’ though, because I am NOT A FAN™ of that aspect of his dirty talk.) I want to specifically call to attention the liberal use of the terms ‘pussy’ and ‘cunt.’ The reader is never gendered with personal pronouns, but those words are used in reference to them and their anatomy several times. I am of the opinion that Mr. Lenz would use those terms regardless of what hole he’s using, but if they make you uncomfortable, maybe give this one a miss? Furthermore, I would like to mention that Billy is not a mentally well man (obviously) who has had a rather traumatic past with abuse, both of these are discussed within this fic, so please take care of yourselves and read this work responsibly if you want to read it at all. I don’t want anyone to be hurt by my writing because I didn’t warn them properly.
Also, this is my first time writing for Billy, so please forgive me if it takes a little while for me to get completely used to him. He’s a…unique fella, let’s say.
Editing Ripper’s Note: I was just about to post this when I realized I completely misread the prompt! I read it as the reader is really into sucking on Billy’s fingers, not the other way ‘round! I’ve been looking at this prompt, literally since December and still never caught on. I feel like a total idiot. I’m really sorry about that. I’ve decided to post this anyway because A) the kink is still there in the fic, just not exactly as requested, and B) I had already finished it by the time I noticed my mistake. So much time has passed and if the original requester is still keeping tabs on this blog, I don’t want to make them wait any longer. That being said, if you’d like me to write your request properly, please send me a message and I will do my best!
Mind Your Teeth – Billy Lenz (Gender Neutral* Reader) - NSFW
· Slick with sweat, your chest slides against the surface of your desk with each cruel snap of Billy’s hips. You can feel the laboured heaving of his chest against your back as he struggles for breath. It leaves his lips in ragged, staggering puffs, heavy and hot against your shoulder blade, accompanied every so often by the slick warmth of his saliva as it drips down onto your bare skin.
· Despite his gawky build, he manages to loom over you, folding you nearly in half against the desk. He’s made himself rather comfortable, sprawled over top of you. His chest presses against your back, boney ribs grinding against the knobs of your spine through the stiff, itchy fibers of his jumper. It’s sticking to your skin, soaked through in spots with sweat—yours and his—and you can feel it peeling up from your flesh with every movement he makes.
· He’s got you pinned, holding you down against the smooth wooden surface with little more than his weight. He’s surprisingly heavy, and though he doesn’t look it, Billy is a strong man—he’s more than capable both of lifting you off of the floor and pinning you down to it. He’s strong and his hands are by no means an exception to that rule. Though they may be long and thin, and they tremble whenever they hold you, his grip is nearly unbreakable. His clumsy fingers circle your wrists like iron fetters, dirty fingernails digging into the flesh of your forearms and cutting little crescents into the skin—just deep enough to sting. You can barely move beneath him—can barely breathe—and he knows this. He has you exactly where he wants you and you’re not going anywhere until he decides to let you.
· Another bruising thrust pitches you forward, and your knees bang against the desk drawers. You cry out, though whether it was for the dull ache in your legs or the sudden stab of pleasure between them, even you couldn’t say for certain. Though if there is any concern at all in Billy for your wellbeing, he’s certainly keeping it to himself. Your outburst only seems to egg him on, as his pace begins to take on a more frantic edge.
· His thrusts are shallow as he rocks into you—it’s as though he can’t bare to withdraw from the tight heat of your body for long. Dimly, through the fog of pleasure, you struggle to feel surprised. It’s all about instant gratification with Billy. Always has been—why should he tease himself or draw things out when he could just pry open your willing mouth and drag his cock against your tongue until he cums down your throat? Still, there is a force behind those thrusts—one which throws you up against the lip of the desk hard enough that you’re sure there will be a solid line of bruising along your midsection before the night is through. Every push of those hips shoves you forward a little more, until your head is nearly knocking against the wall and your toes barely touch the ground.
· Your cheek slides against a slick patch of wood and you realize you’ve been drooling across the desktop. The little puddle at the corner of your lips only grows in size as a particularly deep thrust from Billy wrings another string of wrecked whimpers from your throat. You wish you could pull away from the puddle—longing to drag the back of your hand across your cheek and wipe away the slickness, but there’s little you can do about it with Billy still holding your arms hostage. But at the same time, something about it thrills you—to be ruined like this—held still, unable to so anything but whimper, and drool, and take what you’re given. It’s…liberating.
· “C’mon, little bitch! Take my fat cock! You can t-t-take it better than that! Take it! Take-Take-Take it good for B-B-Billy!” He babbles into your shoulder, chapped lips scraping against your shoulder as he mouths at your flushed skin. His tongue flickers out, dragging a wet stripe against your skin, scorching hot, then suddenly too cool as it begins to dry in the open air.
· “Such a pretty pusssssy,” He slurs, “Pretty, pretty pusssssy. Gonna fill it up—gonna fill it with my fat ffffffucking cock!”
· You feel him jerk behind you, his muscles going taught as a violent spasm rolls through his body. When he speaks again, the voice that comes is not his own—it’s deeper, rumbling down in his chest, belonging to a man much larger than he, “Why I outta beat that boy! Beat him up good! Beat Billy bad! Beat him good! Beat him up, up, up!”
· His hips still and your heart leaps up into your throat, your pulse pounding hard in the tight space. This can’t be good. You squirm beneath him, trying and failing to turn your head. Your eyes roll wild in their sockets, desperate to get a good look at Billy, but he remains a shadow at the edge of your vision. You remember this voice. He had so many it was difficult to keep track of them sometimes—he’d mimic almost anything he heard; the children from down the road calling to one another while they played, the weatherman making predictions on the radio, even the neighbour’s cat. It was easy to forget which voices and phrases came from where once he’d picked them up and used them enough. But this is one that predates you, and you recognize it with a chilling clarity—the father’s voice: always angry, often violent.
· It frightens you when Billy uses it, though not because of the threat Billy poses to you. Of course, you know to tread carefully when he's in one of his moods—you’ve seen first hand the destruction wrought when his directionless frustration is given direction. But, you know this voice is a far more likely indicator that Billy is an imminent threat to himself. You’ve seen him pacing the floor like a caged animal, trembling hands beating about his head, tearing at his clothes and hair as he works through the frenzy, all the while babbling to himself in that deep, rumbling voice: “Rotten boy! Teach you a fucking lesson! Beat Billy! Bad Billy! Bad, Bad, Bad!” He's blackened his eyes, split his lips and knuckles, shattered countless plates and cut his hands on the shards. He loses himself in that voice, and that scares you.
· ‘Losing himself,’ that’s what you’ve come to call these episodes—those moments when his excitement and boundless energy curdle, souring into anxiety and agitation so quickly it makes you head spin. And in this moment, he’s displaying all the tell-tale sighs you’ve come to recognize—the full-body tremors, the angry voices, self-directed violence—mere threats or otherwise…
· No, this is not good. Of course, this isn’t the first time you’ve seen him do this, and you’re sure it would not be the last, but he’s never done it while you were…playing before. And that worries you. You’re both vulnerable, half-undressed and bent over a desk. Even worse, he was behind you. You’d learned very quickly never to let him out of your sight when he got like this. He was unpredictable—prone to lashing out whether he meant to or not. But he wasn’t beyond helping. If you could just turn your head and look at him—make him see you, help him to ground himself like you practiced, you might be able to talk him down, or at least ease him through the worst of it. Maybe. If you could only get a look at him.
· You flounder for your voice and struggle to keep it steady once you find it, “Hey, B-Billy? Billy, baby, you’re okay, right?” It’s an innocent question you usually begin with when he gets like this. Sometimes he’s too worked up to even begin to answer you, sometimes he tries so damn hard to answer, but can’t—not in a way you could really understand anyhow—and sometimes you can talk it through with him. Every time you try, the reaction is different. You can only cross your fingers and pray for a positive outcome.
· This time, he coughs. It’s a horrible, a horrible, racking sound that echoes in his chest—it’s almost closer to a scream than anything else. Another spasm jitters through him, the joint in his neck snapping loud in the darkness. You feel his forehead collide with your shoulder once, twice, then he stills. His flesh is clammy against yours, and the gentle brush of his hair makes your skin prickle, but he seems calmer. He barks a laugh—his own this time—and nuzzles against your back, smearing your skin with sweat and saliva. “Fuck!” He says, as though that explains everything.
· “Billy? Are you…alright?”
· He chirps like bird, three short bursts of whistling he’d picked up last spring when a robin mad made a nest on your windowsill, “Right as rain, rain, rain!”
· You’re left with a heady rush of confusion and relief as you realize he must have pulled himself out of the hole he’d almost fallen into. A little flicker of pride sparks to life in your chest. He’s come so far.
· Your concern melts away once again into pleasure as Billy jerks his hips. Keening high in the back of his throat, he fucks himself deeper into you. He drags his cock out slow, sounding for all the world as though he’d forgotten just how good it felt to fuck you—as though he hadn’t been doing just that not sixty seconds ago. He scrapes his teeth against your shoulder, the promise of a bite that will surely come and mark you for days. His fingers flex around your wrists, blunt nails biting deeper into your flesh as he falls back into that brutal rhythm.
· Your legs begin to shake as Billy’s cock bumps up against something a bit more sensitive inside of you. Your breath fogs against the surface of the desk as it heaves from your lungs, a thin mist that barely has the time to fade before the next heavy puff of air replaces it. You find yourself struggling to swallow the moans Billy’s working so hard to pull from you. You know how much he likes to hear you—how wild it makes him—and you know there’s no real need to be quiet, not with the dorm cleared out for the long weekend. Still, something—be it a force of habit from living in close quarters with thin walls, or simply your own embarrassment—keeps you quiet.
· “Fiiiilthy whore!” A growl, caught low in his throat, tears through the air between you, “Pretty pussy! Want it full! My cock, my cum…gonna fill it full!” Never at a loss for a string of vulgarities, Billy mumbles against your skin, his words slurring into one another until you can barely decipher one though from the other.
· “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!” Billy jerks his hips forward, and for the first time this evening, you feel the full length of his cock stretching you out. You jerk beneath him, mewling into the desktop, squirming about as you try desperately to relax around him. You’re so full—so full you can barely breathe, but it feels so good. Your muscles contract around him, unbidden, throbbing with the sudden stretch. It makes him shudder and sigh above you, a wavering rush of air than hisses out between his teeth.
· He holds you there for a moment, trembling almost as much as you are, “Tight fffucking cunt, so fucking tiiight for Billy!” His hips stutter forward in time with his ragged breathing. Desperately, he tries to fuck himself deeper into you, even though he can’t—he’s already buried to the hilt, his hips tucked snugly against your ass. But he gives it the old college try anyhow. He begins to babble nonsensically against your neck, “Ruin it, ruin it! Never take another cock! Full, full, full! I left it in the kitchen, Jan! Not after Billy’s! A low pressure system moving in and—fuck you full, fuck you full, full, full!”
· The tops of his thighs quiver as he grinds into you, and as he shifts, the head of his cock presses against something. For a moment, your vision goes white. Your legs seem to fall away beneath you, your knees drifting south as the pleasure carries away their ability to hold you upright any longer. If it weren’t for the desk, you probably would have slid down into a boneless heap on the floor.
· You gasp, mouth gaping wide, pulling in a great, deep lungful of air. To call his name? To beg him for more? To put wordless voice to your pleasure? You aren’t sure. There is little room in your brain for thought beyond the need for more. Mercifully, Billy saves you from the struggle before you can waste too much energy on it.
· Almost as soon as he realizes your mouth is open, Billy shoves his fingers into your mouth. Two boney digits slide against your tongue, pressing and prodding against the slick muscle. The taste of dust and salt floods your mouth with the intrusion. You wrinkle your nose, and try to pull your head back, but Billy leans down into you, pressing you down further beneath his weight, grinding your ribs into the desktop.
· “No, no, no,” He chides, voice soft and light—almost cheerful. He spreads his fingers apart, rubbing over the hard bumps of your bottom teeth with a tenderness you rarely see in him. “Gotta make room,” His voice rumbles through you as he presses his lips against your flesh, “Gotta stretch it out for Billy, or he won’t fit!”
· He nuzzles his cheek against your shoulder, still rocking his hips into you, pressing against that spot that makes your brain fill with television static, “Billy’s gonna fuck your throat once he’s filled that pretty pussy!”
· Your lips are pulled taught as his fingers press against the walls of your mouth, testing its limits. “Soft and warm! Wanna fuck it! Fuck it deep!”
· His hips buck hard, shoving you another inch toward the wall. You can feel yourself drooling around his fingers—your saliva dripping down your chin in great rivulets and collecting beneath your cheek.
· His knuckles bump against the roof of your mouth as the pads of his fingers find the back of your tongue. You gag around them, struggling to breathe, but Billy just laughs and presses down harder.
· “Again,” His voice comes out in a ragged puff of breath, half-whisper, half-growl, rough as rock salt, “Pussy gets tight when it chokes.”
· You try to suck in a shocked breath, but you can’t manage it around his fingers. Your throat convulses around him as you struggle to breathe.
· You feel his cock pulse inside of you and he groans his pleasure long and low into the darkness, “Yesssss!”
· He rocks into you again, “No one fucks like Billy, huh?” He pulls back, his cock nearly slipping from your body entirely, then he slams his hips home again, “No one fucks you full like Billy can! No one! No one! No one!” The phrase becomes a litany, each sentence punctuated with a bruising snap of his hips. “Know why?” He drags his teeth along the edge of your shoulder blade, “Know why?” You can hear the grin in his voice, wide and sharp, “‘Cuz Billy fills you up from both ends!”
· You sob around Billy’s fingers, your eyes rolling back as he pushes them deeper into your mouth. If he keeps on like this, it won’t be long before you fall apart around him—you want to cum so desperately, you can hardly keep another thought in your brain. Your muscles clench up around him and he laughs, giggling to himself as he hooks his chin over your shoulder. He can feel how close you are.
· His tongue slides against the side of your face, leaving a thick, wet stripe across your cheekbone. His lips scratch rough against your jaw, “Pretty pussy’s gonna cum? Gonna cum all over Billy’s fat fucking cock? Yeah?” His simpering tone makes your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nod. Another peal of sick laughter bubbles up in his throat, “You’re gonna cum and Billy’s not even trying! So dirty, dirty, dirty!”
· You whine around his fingers as he babbles on, “Billy could fuck you harder, but he doesn’t need to! Stupid, greedy pussy, silly fucking cunt can cum like this!” His teeth sink into your shoulder and the rest of his diatribe is lost to you. Even so, he continues to mumble filth against the skin caught between his teeth.
· The bite stings, bright and sharp, and you sob around him, clenching your jaw, your teeth digging into his fingers. Billy releases you with a hiss, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. You think for a moment you might have hurt him, but in mere seconds, he’s giggling to himself again. “Sharp, sharp teeth! No good. No, no good. Not for Billy’s cock. Gotta tear them out, make room for Billy!”
· Though you know the threat is mostly empty, the way Billy caresses your molars with the pad of his finger makes you a little nervous. You’re sure if he could get a good grip, he could easily ‘make room,’ and there was probably not much you could do to stop him. But he pulls his fingers back, retreating from the crushing press of your back teeth.
· He presses down against your tongue again, rubbing against the slick muscle fondly. “Need to practice! Greedy cunt needs to learn! Learn to suck Billy’s fat cock properly.” He snaps his hips, as though trying to remind you just how fat it really was—as though there was any change you could forget while it was rearranging your guts for you. “Gonna teach you to take it good!”
· Your eyes roll back at the thought. You can picture yourself kneeling under the desk, Billy draped over the chair, wild hair falling over his eyes as you try to take him all the way down to the base. He’d fuck your throat until your vision goes black, his fingers tangled deep in your hair, nails digging into your scalp. Your own fingers slide desperately between your thighs, chasing your release as he chases his own and god what you wouldn’t give to make the fantasy real—to feel the length of him in your mouth, the rough denim of his pants beneath your hands, the jerk and sting against your scalp as he tugs on your hair. Your cheeks hollow around Billy’s fingers, a pretty whine sitting high in the back of your throat.
· And Billy stops—stops moving, stops talking. He hovers above you, silent and still as a statue, barely breathing. A terrible moment of clarity washes over you and the embarrassment comes rolling in. There you were, still stretched out on Billy’s cock, barely moments away from an orgasm and you were already thinking about another? Were you really that desperate? Your cheeks burn hot against the cool wood of the desktop. Shame licks at the pit of your stomach—it wasn’t unlink Billy to think this way, he was always seeking the next shot of pleasure, but it wasn’t like you. As though it wasn’t bad enough to catch yourself thinking that way…for someone else to do it? It was mortifying…and maybe a little exciting too.
· Your stomach flips as Billy shifts behind you, the burgeoning stubble on his jaw scraping across your sensitive skin. Then you feel it, a smile spreading across his face—it’s a grin you’ve come to know well, all teeth and wide enough to make his jaw pop. Even without looking at him, you know you’re fucked.
· All at once, he lurches to life again, fucking his fingers hard into your mouth, in tandem with the harsh thrusts of his hips. A filthy string of gibberish falls from his lips as he pounds into you, “Greedy! Greedy cunt! Want it in your mouth too? Filthy, greedy fucking whore!”
· You whine, and choke, and sob around Billy’s fingers. Your face is wet with sweat, with spit, with tears, you can’t tell and at this point, you’re far beyond the point of caring. The world has narrowed to a single point between your legs as you teeter on the knife’s edge of your release. You rock your hips back against Billy, meeting his thrusts, desperate for more. You’re so, so close, and Billy can feel it too—the way you tighten around him spurring his pace from wild to frantic.
· His voice is broken, his words panted out between jagged breaths and garbled moans, “Gonna be good for Billy? Gonna cum?” His face is buried in the crook of your neck. He giggles against your flesh as he splits you open, slamming into you like it’s the last fuck he’ll ever have. “C’mon, take what Billy gives you! Take it, take it, t—ta—fuuuck!”
· Your hips stutter as your orgasm throbs through you. You scream around his fingers as you cum, your muscles clamping down around Billy so hard he almost has to stop moving, rolling his hips forward quick and shallow. His howl is lost in the sound of blood rushing in your ears, but you can feel it vibrating through his chest, and down into your back. Your fingers scrabble at the wood beneath you, desperate for something to latch onto—to keep you grounded here as the pleasure threatens to carry you away.
· You sob and slump limp against the desk, letting it bear the brunt of your weight. There’s just no strength left in your body anymore. Your hands and feet tingle with the lingering aftershocks of the adrenaline as you begin to come down from your high, and your breath comes hard, as though you’ve run a great distance. Billy’s hips continue to snap against yours, brutal and quick. You sob into his fingers, the as the relentless pleasure sparks through you, nearly painful to your sparking nerves.
· Slowly, as your ears stop ringing, you realize Billy is still talking, babbling away in several voices. “Like your pussy tight like this. Wanna fuck you full while you cum again and again and again and I told you, Jan, I left it in the kitchen! Make you soaked, keep you soaking wet, make you fucking cry! Where is that cat? Where’s that cat? Where’s the…WHERE’S THE BABY, BILLY?! AGNES? WHERE’S AGNES, BILLY?! Beat that kid! Teach him a lesson! BEAT HIM UP GOOD!”
· His left hand shoots up from your arm and wraps around your throat, fingers flexing around your windpipe, not quite squeezing, yet, but the pressure is far from comfortable.
· “T-T-Teach rotten old Billy a lesson.” A spike of fear shoots through you and you choke around his fingers. This seems to bring his mind back, at least in part, to the present, or at least confuse him enough to serve as a distraction—he makes a noise caught between two voices. The fear that courses through you lends new strength to your limbs as you reach up and claw at his fingers.
· As you attempt to pry him lose, his grip only tightens, fingers locking around your windpipe, “Teach that boy a FUCKING lesson!” The knobby joints of his fingers press hard against the pulse in your throat and you’re sure he can feel it hammering beneath your skin. He’s losing himself again, you’re sure.
· But again, this time was different. He hadn’t stopped fucking his cock into you like he had before, and he’d wavered for a moment, when you’d choked on him. There might be something else you could do to help him. Desperate to keep him here with you in the present moment, you flex your tongue against his fingers. His hips stutter and your heart skips a beat in turn. “Filthy fucking c-c-cunt…”
· You bob your head, hollowing your cheeks around his fingers again. C’mon, Billy!
· “F-Fuck!” It’s not quite his voice, but it’s close, perhaps a little higher, a little more strained than usual, but it’s close. “Where’s the baby, Billy? Where’s the…c-c-cat gone to now?” His fingers begin to relax around your throat, but you keep sucking on his fingers, wanting to make sure you’re well and truly out of the woods before you even think about stopping. If this is going to work, you’re going to make damn sure of it.
· “Fucking greedy little cunt!” You could have cried with relief at the sound of his voice—his real voice. You hum around his fingers, and he laughs, the sound low and rumbly, “Still so fucking eager.” His hips buck forward, pressing deep inside of you. It’s still too much, too soon, and you sob with the overstimulation. The sudden spike of pleasure punches the air from your lungs and shakes your legs from underneath you.
· Billy groans as you pulse around him. “You want Billy to cum? Wand Billy to fucking fill you?” You nod frantically, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as he grinds into that spot, filling your vision with white hot splotches of light.
· “Suck his cock, then,” he says, shoving his fingers deeper into your mouth again. He spreads them wide, nearly matching the girth of his cock where it fucks you open. Billy jitters behind you, chasing his release with quick, cruel thrusts. Impatient as always, he pushes digs his nail into the wall of your cheek, “Fucking suck Billy’s cock!”
· You jerk into motion as though startled from a deep sleep, pressing your head down against his fingers to take them as deep as you could. Your tongue laves against the digits, prodding gently against his scarred knuckles, playing in the space between them.
· Billy throws his head back, moaning to the ceiling long and loud, “Yessss! Good little pet! Pretty, pretty pet! His fingers stroke your throat as though he’s petting a cat, feeling it work up and down as you swallow around him. “Gooood pet! Suck Billy’s cock! Suck his cock! Su—NO!”
· Suddenly, he stops, his fingers stilling. For a moment, you think you’ve done something wrong. Had your teeth caught against him? Had you hurt him? Should you pull back and ask, or carry on? Before you can make a decision one way or another, Billy thrusts his fingers back into your throat, pressing them in as deep as he could. His knuckles bump against your back molars as you gag around him, trying desperately to breathe through your nose.
· “Lick Billy’s cunt,” For a moment, you’re still, confusion slicing through the pleasure. Billy tries to press his hand forward, his fingertips brushing against the back of your throat, “Lick it! Lick Billy’s cunt! Lick it! Lick it! Tongue his fffffucking clit!” You think about it for a moment, your exhausted, lust-fogged brain struggling to put two and two together, and then suddenly you think you understand. As gingerly as you can, while Billy continues to rock you forward over the desk, you press your tongue against the soft spot between his knuckles.
· This must have been what he’d wanted because the sound he makes is like nothing you’ve ever heard before—a wail caught somewhere between human and animal. You’ve never heard a human sound like that before. Like so many things about Billy, it’s frightening, and yet it fascinates you, attracts you, arouses you. You press your tongue harder against that spot, and the frantic rocking of his hips picks up again—but this time there’s no rhythm to it. He’s close.
· “Fucking lick Billy’s clit, make him cum! Make him cum in your pretty pussy!” You lap at his flesh with quick, deliberate swipes of your tongue. He howls against your flesh, his forehead thudding against your shoulder heavy and hard. “Fuck, f-f-f-fuck, make Billy fucking cum! Billy’s gonna, he’s-he’s-he’s gonna—!”
· In the moment before he cums everything is calm. He stills, and his voice is soft and steady in your ear; “I’m going to ruin you.”
· Then the world falls back into chaos.
· His whole body shudders above you, a bag of jangling bones he couldn’t keep control of if his life had depended on it. His teeth fix themselves deep into your shoulder, slotting into the indentations they’d left not long before. You cry out around his fingers, sure he’s drawn blood this time. You can see it when you close your eyes, visions of thick red blood splattered against his dark incisors floating against the dark inside of your eyelids.
· He shudders, momentarily stilling, then kicking back into motion, seemingly unable to deicide if he’d rather pound you through his orgasm or remain still, buried to the hilt in your tight heat. You feel the heat of him inside of you pulsing against your walls as he cums. His cheek is pressed tight against your shoulder gibbering a collection nonsensical sounds and snatches of obscenities into your flesh, “Pretty pink cunt! ah, ahhhh, fuuh—fuuuh—fuck! Dripping now! Where did you leave it? Left it fucking dripping!"
· You’re sore beyond belief from the pounding you’ve taken, but there’s still a throbbing want underneath. He’d dragged you most of the way to a second orgasm, now all you needed was a little push. Before you were completely at is mercy, able only to receive the pleasure he decided to give you. But now, your hands were free and with them you could do as you pleased. You wriggle beneath him, slipping your hands down between your thighs.
· Your fingers find their prize, and you sob, your whole body jerking forward. Even though you’d cum mere moments ago, you can’t believe how sensitive you are. You’re on the verge of orgasm almost immediately. You press harder the slide of your fingers aided both Billy’s cum and your own. You shudder, whimpering around his fingers. Your muscles clamp down on him once again, throbbing and pulsing as your orgasm builds.
· He hooks his finger inside of your cheek and pulls, “Wanna cum again. Wanna cum in your mouth,” He pulls harder exposing the sides of your teeth, “Billy wants to feel them! Feel them on his cock! Sharp and hard.” He laughs, “But Billy likes it hard.” The harsh snap of his hips that follows has you seeing spots. He opens his mouth as though to gloat, as you clench around him, he loses his words. Whimpering, soft and broken sounds against your neck, he grinds into you.
· Seconds later, you clamp down around him, a second orgasm shooting through you. The sound he makes as you cum on his oversensitive cock is nothing short of feral. He bucks wildly into you, seeking more of a pleasure that sounds almost painful as he sobs into your shoulder. His cock pulses inside of you again, throbbing as he fucks his cum deeper inside of you, as though intent on giving you more.
· And you’re sure he would. Or he would have, if you hadn’t reached back and pushed against his shoulder. He was insatiable—he’d keep going for hours unless you stop him now.
· He pulls his fingers out first, a pearly string of saliva connecting your lips to his fingertips. You cough, scratchy and wet, but when you speak, there’s no pain. “I…I just need a little break, Bills. Okay?” Your chest is heaving as you struggle for air. Billy hums above you, hesitating for a moment. He’s reluctant to give up the tight heat of your body. But at last, after nearly a full minute of grumbling and mumbling to himself, he pulls out.
· There's a sticky gush of fluids against your thigh as his cum beings to leak out of you. You rest there for a moment, the pair of you breathing hard in the darkness, the comfortable weight of his body pressing down above you, the solid plane of the desktop below. Then all of a sudden, you’re being lifted up. You squeal in shock as your flipped about and placed atop the desk. The surface is still cool against your heated flesh. The difference in temperature is a shock to your system and goosebumps break out across your arms and legs.
· Before you have a moment to process what’s happening, Billy’s head is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at mess he’d made. Your eyes go wide, and you head knocks against a wall as it falls back, “Fuuuuck, Billy!” Your hips cant up against his face, thighs squeezing tight around his ears.
· “Pretty pussy came twice already,” You can feel him smirking against your inner thigh. “Still wants more? Greedy, greedy, greedy.” You catch a glimpse of his eyes, wide and wild, shining in the darkness beneath is tangled hair, “It’s okay, Billy likes you greedy.”
#billy lenz x reader#billy lenz x you#slasher x reader#slasher imagines#ripper fics#hey everyone!#i really hope i caught all the errors#if not you didn't see them-i'll get them soon enough#please enjoy and my apologies again for getting the prompt wrong
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roommates jaydick with sex toys leading to discovering someone has a size kink *wink wink*
Mannnnnnnnnn- Here we go
Tags: Dildos, Ovipositors, Breeding kink, Size Kink, Daddy Kink- Jason get's awakened:tm:
‘Egging’ me on
Dick looks good- too good.
Jason can feel his palms start to sweat. The sight of his roommate face down on his bed is hotter than it has any right to be. They were way crossed the line at this point. So far he doesn’t even know if they’ll ever be able to get back.
The breathy whine Dick lets out goes straight to his cock. His hands are covered with lube and sticky gelatin. A mess from prepping Dick’s hole and the neon blue, near alien tentacle dildo.
“ Fuck- Jay give me another. “
There are only two eggs left. He didn’t think that they would make it this far. Two or three sounded generous. But here Dick was begging for more. Even though his ass was already stretched with four melting eggs.
He dips his fingers back into the bowl and pulls out one of the cool eggs. In his hand, it quickly goes to room temperature. He almost wants to ask him if he’s sure he can take it but after coming this far he knows the answer already. He wonders if this egg will make Dick cum like the second one did.
It takes him a few tries to get the lubed up egg into the base of the toy. All while Dick shivers and tries to keep still. He finally catches the right angle and he pushes. It draws a greedy moan from his room mate.
The egg isn’t inside, not yet but he wants to hear Dick beg for it before he squeezes the end of the toy and shoots it against his prostate.
“ God Dickie, how are you not full already?”
He can’t help the hint of a growl to his voice. Without asking he reaches for the final egg. The amount of sticky gelatin on Dick’s thighs makes him think one is almost already completely melted.
“ Come on Jay- squeeze it in. I want it- want your eggs- Fertilize me. Breed me!“
Oh-
If that wasn’t the most pleasing thing his cock has ever heard. Jason wraps a slick hand around himself to try to regain some semblance of control. His grip on the second egg slips and it falls back into the bowl. He can’t be bothered with it though. Not when Dick is begging so prettily to be stuffed. Quickly, he wipes his hand off on Dick’s plush ass to get off most of the lube. Then grips the slippery base best he can to work the thick, rigid dildo back and forth.
The noise that Dick lets out is loud enough to echo in his ears. He picks up pace, dragging out the silicon the little he can before pushing it back against the eggs with care. He was going to make Dick cum just like this. Cum without a hand on his dick. Then while he’s spurting all over the sheets he’ll shoot the last egg in his greedy ass.
“ Yes- yes fuck Jay fuck me. Fuck me harder make me your incubator. “
Jason is so hard it’s almost funny.
This shouldn’t be turning him on but God it is. He licks his lips imagining really knocking Dick up with his kids. They weren’t anything, the two of them, not yet and maybe not ever but still he was caught in the fantasy.
His fingers slip on the lube and the base the dildo presses up and hard. It’s all Dick needs and soon he’s letting out the filthiest, most debauched moan and cumming with a full-body spasm. It’s beautiful, it’s mesmerizing. It almost makes Jason cum.
Dick’s hole flutters around the tentacle, twitching and tensing as he rides out orgasm. Jason doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so hot before. The extreme contour his roommate can put himself in shames even porn stars. His mouth goes dry and desire lights him from the inside out.
A shaky hand presses over his, with a trembling touch Jason finally inches out the dildo out of Dick’s wrecked hole. God he hopes Dick will at least give him a handy or something, he doesn’t think he can last much longer. The gape of that sensual little rim winks at him and Jason just wants to get his tongue inside.
He puts the dildo aside to clean up. At least that was the goal before Dick’s foot pressed against his obvious bulge. His eyes snap up at playful blue so quickly that he finds himself lost.
“ C’mon Jay fertilize them. “
Fuuuuuuckkkkkkk- Jason snaps.
“ yea- just yea let me just- “
His hands are a mess. He knocks over the bowl and it's gonna be a bitch to clean up later. It doesn’t matter though. Not when he’s hard enough to cut glass, his cock suffocating in his joggers. He tugs the draw string, eager and hungry for that wet sticky hole.
They had some condoms earlier but now that Dick is on his back legs spread, stomach and chest a mess of cum, ass dribbling melting gelatin? Well Jason feels like Dick’ll have no right to bitch about the creampie when he’s already going to have to clean out the eggs anyway.
“ Shit Dickie, You're gonna be my pretty little incubator? Gonna let me fertilize your eggs and make you fat with my cum? “
He can’t believe this is how they’re finally going to fuck. The sex toy thing had been casual nothing more. Now that he’s getting his chance though he wastes no time in pushing the front of his pants down.
Wide blue eyes blink pretty, pink lips slightly agape. Dick’s eyes fall to his cock.
Jason flushes embarrassed. He’s hung. He knows that. But he isn’t too much bigger than the dildo. He thought that Dick would be able to handle it since he’s already stretched but maybe he should not have assumed. He uses his thumb to slide that sexy rim open. It’s so flush from the stretch. Nice and wet too. God if Dick doesn’t want him to fuck him hopefully he can at least get his tongue in there. He’s never eaten ass before but he’s sure Dick tastes good inside.
“ ut… in “
Jason misses what Dick says. Too lost in the heat of Dick’s ass. He looks up and Dick looks absolutely wrecked. Jason blinks sitting up. Which doesn’t seem to be the right thing. One long leg slides over his hips fast enough to stop him from moving. It makes Jason’s breath hitch, cock bobbing from the show of strength.
“ Put it in. Put it in- fuck need it. Need that monster cock Jay. Fucking huge put it in c’mon c’mon c’mon- “
Slamming into Dick is like sliding into a hot bath after a good workout. It makes him loose and relaxed in all the right ways. The head of his cock slides right against an egg. Sticky gelatin melting from the heat of his cock. Dick fucking screams from the feeling.
“ Fuck- Fuck Jason can’t breathe so big- “
He’s pretty sure his roommate is exaggerating but it's hard to tell with how red in the face he is. Jason struggles to right himself. Balls painfully tight against his body as desire and arousal rip through him.
“ So tight- how are you still so tight- “
Dick is sucking him in. His ass is loose enough to move but still tight enough to be pleasurable. He drags those thick hips toward him, bringing Dick up onto his lap. There’s a slight bulge in his stomach where the eggs rest inside. When his hand comes down on it Dick moans like a whore.
“ Fucking- slut- “
He doesn’t mean it but the words just come out. Gone is the sweet and friendly boy that makes himself available to listen to his problem. That tutors younger kids in math- that likes cooking while they sing show tunes.
All that’s left is a whore crazy and desperate for dick and Jason’s gonna give it to him.
He doesn't recognize the blissed-out expression. Dick’s mouth stuck in a silent scream. The crunch of those thick black eyebrows is adorable as he gets fucked out. Almost as if all he wants is to stay a good little cock sleeve for Jason to use.
It’s fucking with his head, turning him into a deviant. He shudders as hot gelatin melts around his cock. It’s so sticky and sloppy Jason is glad he put down a towel.
“ Fu...ck me. “
Dick’s voice is blown out. Jason isn’t surprised at all. Not with how loud he was screaming earlier. He presses his hip forward, cock twitching in that warm wet heat. Dick whines clearly over-stimulated. It’s so sexy that he can’t help groaning, low and deep.
He fucks Dick hard and fast. Every single inch of his thick cock spreads out the man’s ass. It’s so lewd and filthy. Every bump of Jason’s cock against the eggs sends Dick higher and higher to another orgasm. He’s never seen someone cum three times in a row before. Though the last time there had been barely a dribble.
The clench of Dick’s ass is going to make him cum. Which the man must notice because he starts begging and pleading with these little fucked out noises that make Jason stupid.
“ Fucking monster cock- Gonna get bred. “
Jason tries to kiss Dick but his mouth is too slack for anything more than them to rub their tongues together. Jason wipes his mouth, legs, thighs and back burning from exertion. The legs around his waist tighten, keeping him trapped in that warm wet clutch.
“ You like that baby? Like getting fucked out by this monster cock? Want me to fertilize your eggs. “
Dick straight up keens like a girl. So loud and wanting Jason’s see’s white. He fucks harder. The entire bed shakes with the action. The twin's frame bangs against the wall. The headboard is only half as loud as Jason’s hips smacking against Dick’s ass. Fuck his roommate is going to be sore tomorrow. Well, guess they won’t be making their English oral.
“ Fuck- Yes want it daddy want you to fertilize me- “
No shit fuck no god damn it-
Jason comes like a bottle rocket. His thrust lose pace. His body shudders as he breeds his roommate's ass like a stallion. Like a stud paid to fill up bitches like his own little cum dump. It feels like Dick comes too. His ass clenches as gelatin and cum squirts out around his dick.
There’s barely a drop from his cock. The gorgeous boy on his dick cumming dry.
Jason collapses. His vision is spotting, going from white, black and full-colour as he creams Dick. He’s pretty sure he sees God at some point. Dick holds him deep inside to make a mess of his ass.
The two of them gasp and gulp down air. Their bodies shut down from the intense session.
“rr..y me -”
Jason groans as Dick murmurs against his sweaty hair. The body underneath him was boneless. Shit, all kinds of shit are awakened in him now. How the hell is he going to ever have a relationship?
Dick tries talking again but breaks off into a dry chuckle.
Jason curses reaching for a water bottle off to the side. He’s too heavy to move but luckily he doesn’t have to go far. He brings the water to Dick’s lips and helps him drink slowly. Once Dick has gotten his share. Jason drains the rest of it.
Shit, he must have burned all of today's calories. Coach was going to kill him.
His eyes slid back to his roommate. He can’t believe the utter disaster the guy is in. He did that. He’s the one who made Dick such a mess.
“ What were you saying before Dickie? “
The boy groans, still against the sheets as he collects himself. Jason doesn’t even know how he’s still conscious after four orgasms.
“ -aid marry me. “
Jason's heart skips a beat like he’s five years old and not in college. He blinks down at the prettiest man he’s ever seen and suddenly feels restless, his cock twitches in interest but after that round, he’s sure he won’t be back up anytime soon.
He bites his lips, suddenly timid.
“ Yea? “
Dick smiles, eyes still closed. He was such an enigma. So beautiful, smart and lovely but somehow friends with Jason. If someone told him on his first day at Gotham university he’d be balls deep in the hottest guy in the school he would have punched them right in the face.
Now he’s just in awe.
“ Yea. “
Shit, he’s- fuck he doesn’t know what to say now. His face is in flames. Every part of him fidgets with nervous energy as his roommate rests. The quiet is more comfortable than awkward and Jason is thankful because otherwise, he’d say something stupid like- I love you.
Dick groans as he struggles to sit up. Ass wet and lush on Jason’s softening cock. He slides out of that delicious heat and finds himself missing it immediately. Dick looks like he’s been mauled. He was absolutely covered in cum, gelatin, lube and drool and Jason doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful in his life.
Mischievous blue eyes glitter at him.
“ C’mon help me up so I can lay these eggs on you. “
Jason’s heart lurches out of his chest.
Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.
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Hiiii! Here’s part two of my Katniss and Peeta Taking Of Each Other bookcomb! It’s pretty long so … sorry 😬. There was a lot I didn’t include and a lot I wasn’t sure about including, because so much of Catching Fire and Mockingjay is about them wanting to protect the other but I tried to narrow it down to actual acts that were caring, or times they at least tried to care for the other.
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Then, as if I can’t stand it another second, I start running. He catches me and spins me around and then he slips — he still isn’t entirely in command of his artificial leg — and we fall into the snow, me on top of him, and that’s where we have our first kiss in months. It’s full of fur and snowflakes and lipstick, but underneath all that, I can feel the steadiness that Peeta brings to everything. And I know I’m not alone. As badly as I have hurt him, he won’t expose me in front of the cameras. Won’t condemn me with a halfhearted kiss. He’s still looking out for me. Just as he did in the arena. Somehow the thought makes me want to cry. Instead I pull him to his feet, tuck my glove through the crook of his arm, and merrily pull him on our way.
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“We’re going!” says Peeta, shoving the Peacekeeper who’s pressing on me. “We get it, all right? Come on, Katniss.” His arm encircles me and guides me back into the Justice Building. The Peacekeepers follow a pace or two behind us.
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Effie starts giving me pills to sleep, but they don’t work. Not well enough. I drift off only to be roused by nightmares that have increased in number and intensity. Peeta, who spends much of the night roaming the train, hears me screaming as I struggle to break out of the haze of drugs that merely prolong the horrible dreams. He manages to wake me and calm me down. Then he climbs into bed to hold me until I fall back to sleep. After that, I refuse the pills. But every night I let him into my bed. We manage the darkness as we did in the arena, wrapped in each other’s arms, guarding against dangers that can descend at any moment.
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“He was poaching. What business is it of hers, anyway?” says the man.
“He’s her cousin.” Peeta’s got my other arm now, but gently. “And she’s my fiancée. So if you want to get to him, expect to go through both of us.”
-
When my mother has locked the door behind them, I slump against the table.
“What is it?” says Peeta, holding me steadily.
“Oh, I banged up my left foot. The heel. And my tailbone’s had a bad day, too.” He helps me over to one of the rockers and I lower myself onto the padded cushion.
My mother eases off my boots. “What happened?”
“I slipped and fell,” I say. Four pairs of eyes look at me with disbelief. “On some ice.” But we all know the house must be bugged and it’s not safe to talk openly. Not here, not now.
-
My mother gives me a cup of chamomile tea with a dose of sleep syrup, and my eyelids begin to droop immediately. She wraps my bad foot, and Peeta volunteers to get me to bed. I start out by leaning on his shoulder, but I’m so wobbly he just scoops me up and carries me upstairs. He tucks me in and says good night but I catch his hand and hold him there.
-
Peeta sits on the side of the bed, warming my hand in both of his. “Almost thought you’d changed your mind today. When you were late for dinner.”
I’m foggy but I can guess what he means. With the fence going on and me showing up late and the Peacekeepers waiting, he thought I’d made a run for it, maybe with Gale.
“No, I’d have told you,” I say. I pull his hand up and lean my cheek against the back of it, taking in the faint scent of cinnamon and dill from the breads he must have baked today.
-
Each afternoon he carries me downstairs for a change of scenery and I unnerve everyone by turning on the television.
-
Effie, shining in a wig of metallic gold, lacks her usual verve. She has to claw around the girls’ reaping ball for quite a while to snag the one piece of paper that everyone already knows has my name on it. Then she catches Haymitch’s name. He barely has time to shoot me an unhappy look before Peeta has volunteered to take his place.
-
“Why would he paint a picture of me, Effie?” I ask, somehow annoyed.
“To show he’s going to do everything he can to defend you. That’s what everyone in the Capitol’s expecting, anyway. Didn’t he volunteer to go in with you?” Effie says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
-
I lock my fingers tightly into his and say, “Watch my feet. Just try to step where I step.” It helps. We seem to move a little faster, but never enough to afford a rest, and the mist continues to lap at our heels.
-
Peeta and Finnick and I position ourselves in a triangle, a few yards apart, our backs to one another. My heart sinks as my fingers draw back my last arrow. Then I remember Peeta has a sheath, too. And he’s not shooting, he’s hacking away with that knife. My own knife is out now, but the monkeys are quicker, can spring in and out so fast you can barely react.
“Peeta!” I shout. “Your arrows!”
Peeta turns to see my predicament and is sliding off his sheath when it happens. A monkey lunges out of a tree for his chest. I have no arrow, no way to shoot. I can hear the thud of Finnick’s trident finding another mark and know his weapon is occupied. Peeta’s knife arm is disabled as he tries to remove the sheath. I throw my knife at the oncoming mutt but the creature somersaults, evading the blade, and stays on its trajectory.
Weaponless, defenseless, I do the only thing I can think of. I run for Peeta, to knock him to the ground, to protect his body with mine, even though I know I won’t make it in time.
-
While I help Peeta coat his skin with the ointment, Finnick deftly cleans the meat from the shellfish.
-
I stretch out, pressing my hot cheek on the grass mat, staring at the thing in aggravation. Peeta rubs a tense spot between my shoulders and I let myself relax a little.
-
I know it’s stopped when I feel Peeta’s hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins.
“It’s all right, Katniss,” he whispers.
-
“Katniss!” I hear his voice though he’s a far distance away. But what is he doing? Peeta must have figured out that everyone is hunting us by now. “Katniss!”
I can’t protect him. I can’t move fast or far and my shooting abilities are questionable at best. I do the one thing I can to draw the attackers away from him and over to me. “Peeta!” I scream out. “Peeta! I’m here! Peeta!” Yes, I will draw them in, any in my vicinity, away from Peeta and over to me and the lightning tree that will soon be a weapon in and of itself. “I’m here! I’m here!” He won’t make it. Not with that leg in the night. He will never make it in time. “Peeta!”
-
I’m rattled by the turn in the conversation. The implications that I could so readily dispose of Peeta, that I’m in love with Gale, that the whole thing has been an act. My cheeks begin to burn. The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning. I let my anger propel me into my greatest demand. “When the war is over, if we’ve won, Peeta will be pardoned.”
-
At the mention of my name, Peeta’s face contorts in effort. “Katniss . . . how do you think this will end? What will be left? No one is safe. Not in the Capitol. Not in the districts. And you . . . in Thirteen . . .” He inhales sharply, as if fighting for air; his eyes look insane. “Dead by morning!”
Off camera, Snow orders, “End it!” Beetee throws the whole thing into chaos by flashing a still shot of me standing in front of the hospital at three-second intervals. But between the images, we are privy to the real-life action being played out on the set. Peeta’s attempt to continue speaking. The camera knocked down to record the white tiled floor. The scuffle of boots. The impact of the blow that’s inseparable from Peeta’s cry of pain.
And his blood as it splatters the tiles.
-
I poke around in the pile, about to settle on some cod chowder, when Peeta holds out a can to me. “Here.” I take it, not knowing what to expect. The label reads LAMB STEW.
I press my lips together at the memories of rain dripping through stones, my inept attempts at flirting, and the aroma of my favorite Capitol dish in the chilly air. So some part of it must still be in his head, too. How happy, how hungry, how close we were when that picnic basket arrived outside our cave.
-
In the fluorescent light, the circles under his eyes look like bruises. “There’s still time. You should sleep.” Unresisting, he lies back down, but just stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side. Slowly, as I would with a wounded animal, my hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. He freezes at my touch, but doesn’t recoil. So I continue to gently smooth back his hair. It’s the first time I have voluntarily touched him since the last arena.
“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.
“Real,” I answer. It seems to require more explanation. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.” After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.
-
“Katniss!” He whips his head toward me but doesn’t seem to notice my bow, the waiting arrow. “Katniss! Get out of here!”
I hesitate. His voice is alarmed, but not insane. “Why? What’s making that sound?”
“I don’t know. Only that it has to kill you,” says Peeta. “Run! Get out! Go!”
-
It’s a long shot, it’s suicide maybe, but I do the only thing I can think of. I lean in and kiss Peeta full on the mouth. His whole body starts shuddering, but I keep my lips pressed to his until I have to come up for air. My hands slide up his wrists to clasp his. “Don’t let him take you from me.”
Peeta’s panting hard as he fights the nightmares raging in his head. “No. I don’t want to . . .”
I clench his hands to the point of pain. “Stay with me.”
His pupils contract to pinpoints, dilate again rapidly, and then return to something resembling normalcy. “Always,” he murmurs.
I help Peeta up and address Pollux.
-
While Cressida and Pollux make fur nests for each of us, I attend to Peeta’s wrists. Gently rinsing away the blood, putting on an antiseptic, and bandaging them beneath the cuffs.
-
By the time I make it back to the fence, I’m so sick and dizzy, Thom has to give me a ride home in the dead people’s cart. Help me to the sofa in the living room, where I watch the dust motes spin in the thin shafts of afternoon light.
My head snaps around at the hiss, but it takes awhile to believe he’s real. How could he have gotten here? I take in the claw marks from some wild animal, the back paw he holds slightly above the ground, the prominent bones in his face. He’s come on foot, then, all the way from 13. Maybe they kicked him out or maybe he just couldn’t stand it there without her, so he came looking.
[…]
Out of nowhere, the tears begin to pour down my cheeks. “She’s dead.” I clutch my middle to dull the pain. Sink down on my heels, rocking the pillow, crying. “She’s dead, you stupid cat. She’s dead.” A new sound, part crying, part singing, comes out of my body, giving voice to my despair. Buttercup begins to wail as well. No matter what I do, he won’t go. He circles me, just out of reach, as wave after wave of sobs racks my body, until eventually I fall unconscious. But he must understand. He must know that the unthinkable has happened and to survive will require previously unthinkable acts. Because hours later, when I come to in my bed, he’s there in the moonlight. Crouched beside me, yellow eyes alert, guarding me from the night.
-
Peeta, bearing a warm loaf of bread, shows up with Greasy Sae. She makes us breakfast and I feed all my bacon to Buttercup.
-
I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway.
-
Peeta says it will be okay. We have each other. And the book. We can make them understand in a way that will make them braver.
-
#everlark#thg#thgagain#bookcomb ♥️🔎#hunger games#katniss everdeen#Peeta mellark#catching fire#mockingjay#long post
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His Wildest Fantasies
Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x fem!reader
Wordcount: 1.5k
TW: Smut minors dni, fem Dom, m!sub, hair pulling, bondage, slight spit kink, degradation, slight gun play, slight praise kink, unprotected sex
A/n: This really wasn’t planned at all but thank @mythiccheroacademia for me lifting my no shigarki request ban 😭 but I tried. I’m slowly breaking into nsfw fics but i hope i did well on my first try. Ps. This was from a dreamy I had and may or may not follow the conventions of the nsfw community and stuff.
Taglist: click to be apart of my taglist!
“If you keep going like this, I’ll have to leave you with blue balls for 30 minutes, again.” You tutted above Shigaraki, who threw his head back in frustration. You were filling his fantasies, yes, but fuck was it killing him slowly.
His personal journal was thrown to the other side of the room, filled with all the sinful things he had written with only one person in mind. How could he help himself when you owned every room you walked in? Or when he sees the smirk that graced your lips after getting a hero to spill even their own most profound secrets. He knew he lost it when he felt his pants tighten after you scowled at his presence in every meeting, the upturn of your nose making him swallow harshly.
Now, what breaking news would it be when the league finds out he wanted you to spit on him. Or how badly he wished you would step on his dick to the point where he’ll confuse the pain with pleasure. Those ideas brought more euphoria than disgust, but it didn’t matter when they were turned into reality.
The pain from his scalp brought him back to the present. Your glower only let the blood flow faster to his cock, which was evident in his tattered jeans. Your gaze averted to his hard-on before going back to his eyes. A cold laugh escaped your plump lips.
“This really turns you on? You really are a sick fuck.” Your words only made him squirm harder in the chair, rattling the cuffs that ensured he kept his hands to himself. He already lost contact on the tips of his fingers, tape wrapped around each digit so he won’t disintegrate his bindings. His whimpers only gain dynamic as he sat down in front of you, legs spread out to accompany his enormous hard-on.
“And look at your little nub. How adorable.” You teased, fingers trailing up his covered member to the exposed happy trail and back down. Unable to conceal his voice anymore, Shigaraki groaned loudly, hips bucking for more contact. Except for the opposite only happened as you withdrew your hand entirely from his body, the pain in his scalp slowly moving to a dull ache.
“No! Please! Touch me, touch me, touch me!” He writhed in his bindings, the heavy chair legs scraping on the wood of the floor. His energy focused on getting cuffs off, yet the duct tape left nothing but inflamed skin. He flew his neck around, teeth bared in frustration before bowing his head, chest panting from his struggle. He could only hear your heels clacked against the wood boards before you grabbed his face, nails digging into his cheekbones.
“What I need you to understand is that rabid mutts get nothing in life,” you released your hard hold on his face, your manicured hand slowly trailing down to his chapped lips.
“Only good boys do. Are you my good boy?” He nodded vigorously, only for your hand to snap back, holding his face still in a vice grip.
“Use your words, boy.” You commanded, sitting right on his lap. In your skirt, your cunt sat just inches away from his aching dick. Whether it was imaginary or not, the heat he felt from your hot core had him more than obedient.
He was submissive.
“Yes, yes, I’ll be a good boy.” You smirked down at his pleading gaze, the submission making your cunt clench around nothing.
“Fine then, you deserve to enjoy this.” You hiked up your skirt to the point where Shigarki’s eyes met your lace panties. Another groan escaped him as you rocked back and forth on his dick, relieving some of the tension in his pant.
The main room echoed his moans and curses as you grind against his dick, your clit stimulated by the rough denim above his tent.
“This is what you’ve been waiting for?” You laughed as you swirled your hips, making Shigaraki thrown his head back in a groan. The strain in his neck almost unnoticeable due to the waves of the pleasure
“You’re embarrassing, dick pulsing by just me whining on your cock. Now, what if the league walked in on you like this, huh?” Your words only spurred him on, pressing his feet into the ground to deliver you a sharp thrust into your cunt.
“Fuck,” you whispered out.
“You really are into that shit.” You chuckled. You rubbed against him for a final time before getting up. Shigaraki whimpered at the lack of contact, his pleas leaving his mouth the minute you came off.
“Oh fuck, please, keep touching me. I’ll do anything just, please keep touching me.”
“Then shut up.” The tip of the revolver sent a chill down his nose straight to his dick. He didn’t realize you had the strap attached to the holder on your thigh. And yet, he didn’t care because it only excited him more. You watched as his cock twitch uncontrollably, a prominent vein greeting you after unbuckling his pants. With the gun still pointed at his nose, you brought down his brief; his massive dick sprung out from its release, a stream of precum now soiling the black fabric. Your eyes looked back up at him; the gaze stayed mischievous and domineering since the beginning.
“Shiggy, are you gonna be my good boy?” He bit his chapped lips out of habit, the skin breaking off into his mouth.
“Yes—fuck please— yes, I’ll be your good boy. I’ll be your best boy.” You stood over his erection, lining the tip to the opening of your pussy.
“Good,” a moan ripped from the both of you as you sank on his hard length; the pressure almost felt like it was ripping you open. Meanwhile, Shigaraki nearly cummed right there, your spongy walls enclosing all around him. The gun returned to its holder as you prepare for your ride.
It didn’t take you long to move; your slick, making your riding easier as you rolled your hips on his cock. Shigaraki watch as you took in length, your pretty clit just kissing his pelvis before lifting back up and slamming back down. It was a sight to behold.
“Nngh—fuck yes, right there.” He moaned out. Taped fingertips rubbing raw against his palms, only causing more pleasure than pain. He just wanted to touch you, to have your juices smeared across his pointer, to have his index and middle tweaking the stiff peaks of your clothed breasts, to have four fingers grab your jaw and draw you into a kiss. The tightness of your cunt sent lightning through his body, his mind cloudy, not knowing what to do. So, he pushed up against you, trying to kiss your lips.
“Just what are you doing, boy?” You stopped riding, your cunt still sheathing his cock. You shoved back his upper body. He whimpered out again, his body begging for him to move, to do something to cum. Your gaze demanded otherwise.
“Aw, did you try to go in for a kiss?” His cheeks burned further red by your teasing. His bangs hiding his embarrassment as he turned away. You grabbed his chin for him to face you, your shifting causing his dick to twitch.
“Fine then, open your mouth.” Confused but still obedient, he opened his mouth wide, tongue slightly bowing out. You pursed your lips together, letting the spit slowly fall out of your mouth into his. The cold foreign substance touching his tongue quickly dissipated as you pulled him into a kiss. Your hips starting to move again, bouncing on his cock while he swallowed your moans. His thrusts met you halfway, your clit stimulated by the repeated clash on his pelvis. The wet sounds of hard fucking and cries echoed through the empty room, only you and Shigaraki knowing of each other presence. A trail of saliva connected your lips as you looked at him straight in the eyes. Your hands holding on to his crewneck as you bounce harder on his dick, the sounds of slapping getting louder and faster. You were moving faster than he could, his hips stuttering to connect to yours. The short babbles efusing from his lips told you his state; he was close to becoming undone.
“You’ve been such a good boy, treating me like this. You’ve been the best baby boy. Now cum for me, baby. Cum.” His balls tightened on him as he came on demand, followed by the tightening of your walls as you came too. You rode out your orgasm before collapsing on your leader, your legs and ass burning from your endeavors. With tired legs, you lifted off Shigaraki, only to see him dazes with his head knocked all the way back. You smiled at his fucked out face before slipping your panties back in place. White numbers on your phone told you how many minutes you had left before the rest of the league came.
25 minutes remaining.
Looks like you have time for round 2.
#shigaraki x reader#bnha shigaraki x reader#tomura smut#shigaraki smut#shigaraki tomura x reader#bnha x black!reader#bnha x poc!#bnha shigaraki tomura x reader#tomura x y/n#tomura x reader#tomura x you#shigaraki x you#bnha x reader#bnha smut
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Right here
Fandom: Stray Kids
Sickie: Jisung
Caregivers: Chan & Minho
Prompt: Sneaky temperature check @sicktember
No one’s POV.:
Jisung had started feeling off only a little after having lunch with his group. Maybe it was the food not sitting right but whatever it was, it certainly took a toll on the rapper’s mood. Earlier that day, he had fooled around with his friends, being full of energy, but the longer the day progressed, the quieter he became. The slight discomfort he had felt in his stomach earlier had turned into a painful ache that made it hard for Jisung to find a comfortable position in his seat. The entire group was currently at the studio recording but unlike usual, the rapper wasn’t really in it with his whole heart. Usually, he’d give his friends encouraging smiles and advice on how they could do better but today, he was quiet, only speaking when he was asked something. The same couldn’t be said for his stomach though, which often decided to gurgle loudly when everything around him was silent. “That really didn’t sound good, you sure you’re feeling alright?”, Chan frowned, sitting next to Jisung and hearing the younger’s stomach rumble angrily. Patting his tummy, Jisung laughed: “I feel fine actually. My tummy’s just really noisy right now.” It was only partly a lie. His stomach was indeed noisy but to be honest, he didn’t feel fine at all. The pain was only getting worse and all his attempts of playing it off had exhausted the rapper. He was ready to just go home and curl up in his bed. At least that was what he intended to do as soon as they were done here.
Towards the end of their recording session, he had had to excuse himself to the restroom multiple times, feeling increasingly queasy. However, when he got there, the feeling eased up, so he just stood there rubbing his tummy and taking deep breaths before going back to the studio. When he returned from his last trip, his members had already packed and only waited for him, so they could head back to the dorm for dinner. Jisung cringed at the thought of having to eat anything but knew he didn’t have much of a choice if he didn’t want to admit to feeling sick. Had he thrown up at all, he would probably open up to his members but since it was only a stomach ache up to this point, he’d rather handle it on his own. The ride back to the dorm was straining to say the least, as every turn of the road caused his stomach to slosh nauseatingly. Staring out of the window, Jisung rested his head against the cool glass and took deep breaths through his nose as he fought to keep his stomach in place. Cold sweat was running down his back as he flashed hot and cold.
By the time they made it to the dorm, the rapper’s shirt was sticking to his back and he unsteadily stumbled out of the vehicle, relieved to be on solid, unmoving ground again. Minho watched him stumble and linked their arms to steady his dongsaeng. Though Jisung wouldn’t admit it, he was extremely grateful for the support, not sure he would have made it up to the dorm on his own. He had to resist the urge to crouch to the ground and cradle his poor tummy when a cramp twisted his abdomen. Minho tried his hardest not to let the worry show, hearing the rapper’s pained gasp. He just hoped the boy would speak up about what was bothering him. The dancer also noted, that Jisung had gotten progressively paler over the course of the afternoon. At this point, he was certain the younger was sick but if he was, why wouldn’t he say anything?
At the dorm, Jisung made a beeline for his room, plopping down on the edge of his bed and hugging his cramping middle. It was a mystery to him how he could go from feeling perfectly fine this morning to being this miserable now. “Hey, are you okay, hyung?”, Jeongin frowned, entering their shared room. He had intended to get the older to join them for dinner but was taken a back when he found the rapper basically folded over his lap, hugging his stomach. Jisung nodded, flinching when he forced himself to sit up straight. The maknae wasn’t buying it but decided not to press on the topic, merely stating: “Dinner’s ready and Chan wanted me to get you.” – “O-Okay, ‘m coming”, the older muttered, struggling to his feet only to pale further. The room was spinning and he swayed for a moment before regaining his balance. Jeongin watched him closely, his brows furrowed. Something wasn’t right with his hyung at all. Joining their members for dinner, Jisung cringed at the smell of food. His stomach churned painfully and sweat dripped down his temple. How was he supposed to get through this without throwing his dinner right back up? The members had compiled a wide variety of food, partly left-overs from the previous day and partly take-out that the members, who finished recording first, picked up. Praying he would somehow be able to stomach it, Jisung settled for a small serving of plain rice as he considered it his safest chance.
The members knew Jisung was sick, from his odd behavior to his dinner choice to the tiny amount he ate. The rapper may have thought he was hiding his discomfort alright but anyone who knew him could tell something was up. Worried about their friend, they wanted to know what was going on, so they’d be able to help but knowing he would deny everything if they asked him directly, they just tried to push him to admitting it. It started with Chan scooping more rice onto Jisung’s plate, claiming: “I don’t want you to get hungry for midnight snacks during the night.” Jisung didn’t know how he did it but somehow, he managed to finish all of it, fully aware that he’d come to regret that decision later on. When they cleared the table, Felix hugged him from behind, feeling the rapper tense up in his arms. It took all of Jisung’s willpower to not throw up right there and he struggled to quickly remove the Aussie’s arms from his sensitive middle. He was just about to flee back to his room, when Minho pulled him to the living room. “We hadn’t had a movie night in such a long time and we don’t have to get up all that early tomorrow, so let’s have some quality time”, the dancer beamed, dragging his dongsaeng to the couch. “Hyung, I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I think I’ll just go to bed”, Jisung frowned, trying to get come up with some reason why he couldn’t spend more time with the group. Minho smiled and made the younger sit down next to him on the couch, promising: “You can lay on my lap. It’s no problem if you fall asleep halfway through but I really missed you, so please…”
Jisung really couldn’t bare hurting his hyung’s feelings, so he let himself be talked into watching a movie with the rest of the group. Taking Minho up on his offer, he had his head on the dancer’s lap, while the older played with his hair. Maybe it had been the right decision because it distracted him from his pain enough to fall asleep. When Minho was sure Jisung was out completely, he whispered: “Chan-hyung, could you get me a thermometer? His face feels pretty warm. The forehead one would be best because the ear one would probably wake him.” – “On it”, the leader agreed, quietly getting up and collecting the thermometer from the bathroom. When he returned, Minho had already brushed Jisung’s bangs out of his face to allow the oldest easier access to his forehead. Chan carefully approached them and quickly took his dongsaeng’s temperature, detecting a moderate fever. Just when he pulled the thermometer away, Jisung’s stomach gurgled loudly, confirming their suspicions further. “We should really get him to bed”, Chan sighed, “Can you help me, Min?” The dancer nodded and got up as soon as Chan had picked the rapper up from the couch. Minho went ahead, opening the door to Jisung’s room and folding back the blanket. They tucked their dongsaeng in and closed the door, so he could rest undisturbed.
The next time Jisung woke up, it was already after midnight. The dorm was dark and quiet, the members all except for Jisung sleeping soundly. At first, the rapper was confused as to what had woken him at such an early hour. Flushing hot, he felt his stomach twist and quickly pushed off the blanket. Jisung staggered to the bathroom, one arm protectively wrapped around his middle, as he fought off the nausea. He squinted, blinded by the bright bathroom light, feeling disoriented as he crashed to his knees in front of the toilet. A harsh but unproductive retch tore from his throat, making the boy shudder at the thought of what was to come. Sweat trickled down the rapper’s back as he knelt there, swallowing convulsively. He couldn’t be sick. Jisung crossed his arms over the toilet bowl and rested his forehead on them, drawing a shaky breath through his nose. He hated throwing up, so much so, that he was determined to fight it off with every ounce of energy he might have left. Another cramp had him cry out in pain, quickly silencing himself by biting his lip. He couldn’t wake anyone else up. In a desperate attempt to get some relief, Jisung slipped his hand under his shirt, gently drawing circles with his palm. He could feel the upset organ churn under his hand as his mouth started to water even more. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gagged hard, relieved when nothing came up. There was no way he’d let this happen.
Waking up to an empty room, Jeongin waited ten minutes for his roommate to come back. When he didn’t, the maknae decided to search for Jisung. He spotted light under the bathroom door and gently tapped his fingers against the wood. When there was no answer, he quietly opened the door and found the missing rapper curled up on the rug. Though he was asleep, his brows were furrowed in pain as his forehead glistened with sweat. Knowing this wasn’t good, Jeongin went to wake up Chan, who was up in an instant when his dongsaeng explained what was going on. “Why don’t you sleep here, Innie? I’ll take care of Jisung but you don’t need to lose more sleep, so I’ll just stay in your and Jisung’s room, okay?”, the leader offered. Still feeling sleepy, Jeongin nodded and got comfortable in Chan’s bed, while the older went to check on the sick rapper. He found the boy curled up on the bathroom rug, just like Jeongin had described and he really didn’t look good. Jisung’s face was way too pale for Chan’s liking and his bangs clung to his sweaty forehead. Not having the heart to wake his dongsaeng, he carefully brushed his hair out of his face and placed his palm across his forehead, shocked to find it burning.
Just as he was contemplating how he was going to get Jisung back to bed without waking him, Minho stumbled into the bathroom. He didn’t know what had woken him but was soon certain it had been his intuition, telling him his dongsaeng wasn’t doing too well. “Hyung?”, he questioned, startling Chan, “What’s going on?” – “I don’t know. Innie found him like this and I was just about to get him back to bed”, the leader sighed. They were both startled when Jisung curled up further, whimpering in pain. Minho knelt down next to him and nudged his shoulder, frowning: “Sungie, hey? What’s wrong?” – “Stomach’s killing me”, the younger muttered, still half-asleep. “Did you throw up?”, Chan asked as the rapper became more awake. Jisung shook his head, admitting: “Felt like it but didn’t.” Sitting up, he drew his legs closer to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. Taking a closer look at him, now that the boy was awake, Chan frowned: “How long have you felt like this?” – “Hm, kinda started after lunch. Might have eaten something wrong”, Jisung mumbled, closing his eyes again. Minho ran a comforting hand down the rapper’s back, cringing in sympathy when he felt how sweat-soaked his shirt was. “Sung, I don’t think it has anything to do with what you ate”, the dancer hummed, “You’re running quite a temperature, so I think you must have caught some kind of bug. Do you feel ready to go back to bed?” – “’m so tired, I think I’ll just sleep here on the floor”, the younger refused, keeping his eyes closed. While Minho tried to convince Jisung to go back to his room, Chan sighed: “Oh dear! I’ll grab the puke bucket and thermometer.”
After lots of convincing, Minho helped Jisung to his feet, only to have the boy bend over, hugging his middle as his stomach cramped up again. “It’s okay, just try to breathe through the pain”, the dancer hummed, resting his hand on Jisung’s shoulder. The rapper shook his head urgently, choking out: “Hyung, I don’t feel so good.” Sighing, Minho was quick to get his dongsaeng situated on his knees in front of the toilet. He could tell the younger was fighting his hardest to keep it together but couldn’t help let a tear fall down his feverishly flushed cheek. “Sungie, just let it up. I’m pretty sure you’ll feel better after getting this over with”, Minho whispered, crouching down next to the rapper. Shaking his head, Jisung grit his teeth. “Come on, if it’s making you feel this bad, it would be better to get it out than keep it in you”, the older sighed but Jisung refused: “Don’ wan’ to. Hate it.” He instantly pursed his lips, barely able to swallow back a gag. “I know it’s no fun but I don’t think you’ll feel better like this, Sung. Just get it over with and I’ll help you back to bed, so you can sleep it off”, Minho promised, running a hand through the boy’s sweaty hair. Drawing in a shaky breath, Jisung pleaded quietly: “W-Will you rub my back?” – “Of course, I’ll rub your back”, the dancer whispered back, placing his hand on his dongsaeng’s damp shirt and gently stroking up and down his spine.
Assured by the presence of his hyung right beside him, Jisung’s resolve slowly crumbled. The next time his stomach clenched, he coughed up a large wave of his meager dinner. He was really glad he had settled for something bland to eat because he couldn’t bare tasting it again. Jisung didn’t have too much time to dwell on it, lurching over the bowl as more sick shot past his lips. He shuddered in disgust, feeling Minho squeeze his shoulder before going back to rubbing his back. Just as the next wave splattered into the bowl, Chan walked in to check on the two. He had waited in Jisung’s room after setting it up with a bucket, a bottle of water and a cup of tea on the nightstand. “Make it stop”, the rapper choked out before getting sick again. Minho calmly promised: “Just hang in there, it’s almost over.” Cooing at the dancer’s rarely showing protective side, Chan grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cool water. “Min’s right, you’re almost there, Sung. You’re okay”, the Aussie smiled, laying the cool cloth across Jisung’s neck. The boy only whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. He hated this.
After a while, it didn’t seem like he could bring anything else up, although his stomach still hurt. He just wanted to sleep. “Let’s go to bed”, Minho cooed, getting up to help Jisung up too. The younger only groaned, resting his head on his arms. He just wanted to sleep, no matter where. Patting the rapper’s back, Chan laughed lightly: “Come on, Sungie. Your bed is much comfier. I’ll even carry you there if you manage to stand up for a second.” Blinking at the leader with teary eyes, Jisung pouted but took both of his hyungs’ hands and let them pull him to his feet. With how dizzy he suddenly felt, he didn’t manage to stand for longer than a second but it was enough for Chan to scoop him up bridal-style and like he had promised, the leader carried him back to bed. “Do you want to have some water?”, Minho offered, uncapping the bottle for his dongaseng. Jisung frowned but accepted a few sips, just to wash away the taste. Sitting down on Jeongin’s bed, Chan reminded: “The bucket’s right next to your bed. Don’t hesitate to wake us up if you feel sick again, yeah?” Jisung nodded, curling up under his blanket. He was surprised when Minho climbed into bed behind him. The dancer knew he was taking a high risk but his heart ached for his sick dongsaeng, so he wanted to give him as much comfort as humanly possible. “It’s alright”, Minho whispered, slipping his hand under Jisung’s shirt, “Let me rub your tummy and try to get to get some rest. Hyungs are right here.”
#stray kids#skz#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#comfort#sick#sickfic#sicktember2021#emeto#han jisung#minsung
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~ ℙ𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕝𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕀 ~
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT! Dom!Minho x sub!reader criminal!skz, gang!au, angst(?), criminality, mentions of scars, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, explicit language, mentions of robbery, mentions of police, mentions of cuts, alcohol consumption, mentions of fights, public sex, PIV, fingering, unsafe sex (STAY SAFE), orgasm (m/f), cum, slight bulge kink, squint to see the degradation.
PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS SINCE THIS PIECE CONTAINS VIOLENCE!
𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.6 k
ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: EEEEP part 2 of purple hearts that is more of a background story to the first one so if you haven’t read the first one please do so here!~ (also jesus fucking christ did i struggle with this sooo... don’t expect much lmao)
OH if you want a song recommendation; A good song never dies - Saint Motel (fits this fic heheh...)
A loud bang erupted through the room alerting the 7 other boys. Bangchan’s fist was firmly planted on the table as he looked at the shoked faces off the seven boys.
“We can’t go on like this anymore”
He spoke in a raspy voice, his breath quivering as the other boys avoided eye contact with both Bangchan and between themselves.
“Did you see what happened out there?!” Felix flinched at Chan’s loud shout as Changbin smirked, spinning in the office chair and staring at the ceiling.
“It’s not that serious, Chan! Just a couple bruises tha-” Changbin started speaking but was soon cut off.
“Nonsense!” Chan growled out. “All of this because that son of a bitch won’t get a job, we included you because you were a detective. You were useful once, Minho”.
The entire room glanced over at Minho. His cheek scarred, a droplet of blood desended down from his knuckles as he swept his hair back with one hand.
“Not my fault, you wanted me to plan the different robbing schemes so how the fuck can I work, huh? Ever though about that?” He spat on the floor as his gaze was locked with Bangchan’s. The leader getting visibly annoyed by Minho’s tone.
“Calm down everybody” Seungmin said, carefully nudging at the curtain infront of the window and looking down at the blue and red lights that was flashing all over town. “Continue like this and we’ll all be dead meat for the police”.
Hyunjin was sitting across from Changbin, only the big white table seperating them as a lonely lightbulb hanged in the middle.
“I agree with Chan, Minho used to help by getting access to information only the detectives had but now... well, he’s not doing much” he scratched the back of his neck while talking.
Minho was aggrivated by his words, ready to lunge at anyone that dared to open their mouth about how he wasnt helpful after he’d been fired from his job as a detective.
“I-I’m gonna find a job, not like you fuckers sitting here and living off others pain”. He tried to defend himself but only earned a scoff from Felix.
“Please,,, don’t try to judge us when you’re in it yourself” Felix remarked snarkily, sitting on the cold stone flooring. A first aid kit was laid out infront of him as he treated a big wound on his forearm, wrapping bandage over the cut and hissing as the material stinged against the raw wound.
“I’ll find my ways, don’t worry” he devilishly smirks, many of the boys sighing and rolling their eyes. All except one. Bangchan. His blood was boiling. Did Minho not see how the whole groups future was hanging on by a thin red thread? The red representing how much blood has been shed by these boys in order to survive in this vile world.
Silence filled the room, only the faint sound of police sirens could be heard from outside. Minho clenched his jaw, looking around at the silent boys before grabbing his coat from the wobbly coathanger and exiting the mobs headquarter, shutting the door loud enough to startle both Jeongin and Jisung. Confused glances were exchanged while Bangchan just stood at the end of the table, staring out into the dark night.
---
The nightlife was well and alive in the big city. Music blaring, people chattering and cars humming. The neon lights were all around him as well as the vast crowds of people enjoying the night. Minho walked into a bar that was a couple of blocks away from where he and the boys had been moments earlier, robbing a jewely store and beating up the owners until puddles of blood formed around them. Most of the times it was easy but today the police were a step ahead and bad planning by Bangchan almost led to the boys in handcuffs. Luckily, all eight managed to escape, leaving the bodies and the spray painted SKZ mob logo on the old fashioned walls of the jewerly store.
The bar reeked of alcohol as the lights were low, only a couple of silhouette visible. Unsteady bar chairs decorated the dim bar along with a wall of fancy liquor bottles and as Minho sat down he looked down at the bar table before croaking out;
“One boulevardier“
He licked his lips as he looked cockily at the bartender that quickly nodded, intimidated by the wound on his cheek. Minho rubbed the back of his neck whilst comtemplating his life choices. Graduated with a law degree, once being a well respected detective but what was he worth now? He was just a dirty criminal, ruining lives in order to survive. The drink was placed infront of him, a coaster on the bottom of the wide glas as the drink condensed, forming beeds of liquid on the rim. Just as he lifted the glas to his chapped lips you tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me”
You stood behind his hunched figure and met his gaze as he turned around, drink in hand. You show your detective badge before speaking.
“y/n, y/l/n. Happened to see any commotion here tonight, sir?
He scoffs which makes you confused as you look him straight into his cold brown eyes.
“Detective? At least you got to keep your job”
Minho turns back and you stand there, wondering if he’s drunk or just refusing to cooperate.
“Sir, I asked you if you’d seen anything that could lead us to the SKZ mob? I’m pretty sure you know who they are. You know, the ones that makes the entire city shake of fear.”
“Sure, I know of them.” He smirked with his answer.
He patted the empty bar chair next to him, signaling for you to sit which caught you off guard. You were hesitant since he didn’t look like the friendliest type but you nodded, slowly sitting down next to him.
“Look, I might even surprise you about how much I know” he remarked, steadily raising the glas to his dry lips.
“Is that so? How do you know so much?” you asked, geniunly interested in him and that scar on his cheek.
“Former detective” he stated simply.
Your eyebrows jerked at his words. ‘Former detective?’ you thought, losing his job must have been hard on him judging from his scruffy appearence and by the way he waved his finger at the bartender, ordering another drink.
“Then why did you lose your job?” Curiosity was going to be the death of you.
“Aren’t you asking too many questions, baby?”
Who was he calling baby? The two of you had met minutes ago but something in the way his voice rang through that word caused shivers to descend down your spine.
“I’m a detective, that my job and you should know that” you replied sassily, not knowing what to do with the butterflies in your stomach upon hearing him call you baby.
“I could help you but it comes with a cost.”
He moved his hand in a circular motion, swirling the liquor as the floating ice cubes bumped against eachother, the sound being completely masked by the distinct chattering of other guests.
“Well,,, what do you want me to do?” You looked at him as he stared straight ahead, his silvery earring swaying as he turned his head towards you, grinning.
“A job and you.”
His deep brown eyes seemed to draw you in but you had to resist, you were on a patrolling shift after all.
“I’m s-sorry,,, This is not appropriate behaviour” you say as you try to get up before being abruptly pulled back by your wrist, the purple heart on your bracelet reflecting in the minimally lit bar.
“I know damn well that there is a promotion looming in the air” he said, not breaking eye contact with the bracelet on your arm. He was right. If he had valuable information it could change your career, make you climb higher in the ladder of success and peer down at all your co-workers that were once laughing at your lack of skills.
“H-how’d you know?” you said, flustered at his big hand that was still tightly gripping your wrist. He flashed his devilish grin before yanking you by the arm, dragging you to the bathroom.
“W-wait,,, what are you-”
Pushing the door to the bathroom open, he slammed you against a cubical as he crashed his lips onto yours. Luckily the bathroom was empty leaving Minho without any hesitation to fuck you so hard that you’d be longing for more, fuck you so that you’d be left with no other choice but to hire him. You melted in his touch and as much as you knew how wrong this was something about his mysterious aura had you answering his kiss, pursing your lips and slipping your tongue inside of him. The kiss quickly got heated, sparks flying as his fingertips lightly nudged on the band of your jeans. Minho tilted his head, cupping your warm soft cheek with his brittle and bloody hands as you moaned into the kiss, adrenaline rushing through you at the thought of getting caught at any moment.
Minho pulled you into a cubical, your bracelet jingling from the sudden movement. Locking the door, he put his hand by the side of your head and towered over you making you feel helpless. You needed him inside of you.
“Deal?” he leaned over to your ear, his hot breath tickled your ear and all you could do was nod as you desperatly clenched around nothing.
You reattached your lips on his, the bitter taste of liquor spreading in your mouth as your tongues fought for dominance. Minho stroked your hair until his hand slowly moved to peel off your shirt, exposing your bra strap. His touch on your bare shoulder made you shudder and your core quivering in anticipation, feeling a wet patch on your underwear. His hand unbuttoned your pants causing you to gulp loudly, holding the back of his neck to deepen the kiss. Without warning his cold fingertips slid down beneath your panties, grazing your sopping folds and feeling himself get painfully hard, not wanting to admit the effect you had on him.
“Already this wet, babygirl?”
He broke the kiss, looking at your pained expression as he inserted a finger into your dripping pussy. Your eyes tightly shut as your hands wrapped around his arm, needing something to hold on to before your trembling legs gave up on you. You quickly stripped yourself from your pants and underwear, the fabric pooling around your feet and touching the surprisingly clean bathroom tiles.
“Needy I see” he scoffed, inserting a second finger and sending you over the moon with pleasure, your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
“s-shut up, you m-made me like this” you stutter back at him, trying to impose some sort of dominance but Minho only swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, looking at you with hungry dark eyes. A broken moan escaped your lips that glistened from saliva, Minho curled his fingers upwards, grazing your g-spot with every move. Before another strained moan managed to escape your lips he retracted his fingers, lapping off your juices from his long fingers with a mischievous look in his eyes.
“Turn around”
His cold voice pierced your eardrums and as if you’d been hexed you complied, your body moving to his command. Your hot cheek pressed up against the cubical door as Minho’s body was dangerously close to yours, his clothed bulge rubbing against your bare ass. The sound of his belt unbuckling echoed as you pressed your ass up against his bulge, desperate for his cock.
In a swift motion both his pants and underwear dropped down to the floor, his erect veiny member springing out, the tip shining with precum. He pumped his length a couple of times before rubbing the tip against your dripping heat making you mewl out in suspense, the burning feeling in your core growing stronger. Minho alined himself with your entrance, slowly pushing in the tip to which you hissed, a momentary sting hitting your senses. He teased you by dragging his fingertips across your buttcheeks and up your spine, goosebumps erupting.
Not being able to control yourself you pushed your butt out making you sink deeper on his length, earning a groan from the dark haired boy.
“Desperate much?” he cooed from behind you.
Your hands formed into fists as they held you body up from the door.
“F-fuck,,, hurry, I’m still on my shift you know?” you spat out at him, your legs shaking from how his dick stretched out your tight walls.
“Whatever you say”
He laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful before turning his hand and yanking you towards him, your back arching as his hips slam against yours causing your butt to jiggle. You choked on your own moan as Minho’s hand tightly held you by the roots.
The movement repeated and got harder by each thrust causing you to bite your lip in order to stop from screaming out in pleasure. Heat rose to your cheeks as your eyes rolled back into your skull, stray pieces of hair landing infront of your hair. Sweat beaded on Minho’s forehead, his groans getting louder as he neared his sweet release.
“S-so tight,,, fuck.” He spoke haltingly, hating the fact that you made him weak. In order to hold on for longer you clenched around him not knowing that he’d grunt loudly.
“Now you’re c-clenching around me like a little whore?”
A string of moans ensued from your delicate lips upon hearing his new nickname to you. How did he know that you liked it? You could only nod, your speech all slurred from the impact of his dick burrowing deep into your cervix. The knot in your stomach tightened, your head dazed as Minho’s thrusts became uneven, the grip on your hair tightening. Not feeling your legs any longer the knot unraveled, your body shivering from the orgasm that washed upon you, your juices coating Minho’s dick that was still pounding into you at an immense speed.
“A-aah,,,s-shit!” you screamed out as he rushed after his own orgasm, overstimulating you in the meantime. Tears prickled in the corners of your watery eyes as Minho’s last moan echoed in the room, the moan being high in pitch. He pulled out of you leaving your cunt dripping as he pumped his length a couple of times, throwing his head back before his white cum spurted onto your butt, feeling the warm substance drip down your leg. The two of you panted, chest heaving as your forehead made contact with the door, legs weak.
In your peripheral vision you see the boy stretching out a paper towel, his chest heaving as he wiped off the small sweat beads with the back of his hand. You shake your head in order to come back to earth before taking the paper towel from his hand, muttering a small “thank you”.
“So what you say, babygirl?” His dick turning flaccid before pulling up his pants, looking at you wonderingly. You wipe off the cum and discard the paper in a small waste bin before you reach down to grab your panties and pants, pulling them briskly up. You reach for your back pocket, holding out a business card between your pointer and long finger with one hand, the other hand messing with your hair, making it look presentable.
“Call me on Monday” you say before stumbling out of the cubical, leaving the grinning boy behind you.
#stray kids smut#skz smut#skz x reader#kpop smut#stray kids fanfic#stray kids imagines#stray kids drabbles#stray kids reactions#straykids x reader#skz x stay#skz x you#skz x y/n#skzsmut#skz fanfic#kpop fanfic#bangchan smut#lee know smut#changbin smut#hyunjin smut#han smut#felix smut#seungmin smut#i.n smut#bangchan fanfic#lee know fanfic#changbin fanfic#hyunjin fanfic#han fanfic#felix fanfic#seungmin fanfic
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