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#give me back my hours of watching you and careing about your stories and content
ellenthefox · 3 months
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that feel when your old comfort videos have clips like this in them and you have to reevaluate the last four years again
fuck wilbur soot and go support shubble
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2hightocare · 13 days
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DOWN BAD! 02
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Synopsis: Despite undeniable chemistry, your guys’ relationship remains undefined, caught between playful teasing to deeper, unspoken longing.
Pairings: bad boy! jungkook x fem! reader
Genre: friends to lovers. college au. slowburn!
Warnings: angst, drug use, profanity, explicit content, talks about abusive home, fighting, arguing, screaming, crying, flashbacks, oc and jk are nineteen (freshmen’s in uni) mentions of death, daddy/mommy issues.
a/n: GOSHHHHHHH! pray for my girl yn😓😓 she’s down bad and she fr ain’t getting up. Left you guys on a cliffhanger hehe. enjoy🤍🤍
01! playlist
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"What do you want?" He says, the smallest glint of amusement on his face has Jungkook's stomach recoiling.
"The regular," Jungkook found himself saying, reaching into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. "I don't have opioids. My supplier said there was a shortage—want to try some new shit?" Yoongi says as he balances his cigarette on his lips, looking into a cabin.
"You've tried snow before, right?" He looks up at Jungkook who stands there. "No, I told you l don't fuck with that shit," Jungkook shakes his head, putting his wallet back into the pocket of his jeans.
"It's on me, just try it," Yoongi hands Jungkook a small bag filled with white powder. "Just snort it and let it do its thing, boy," Yoongi chuckles as he watches Jungkook look down at the drug in his palm. "It won't kill you if that's what you're thinking," he continues, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling.
Jungkook's mind immediately goes to you as the words leave Yoongi's mouth.
“You’re going to kill yourself,” you scream, your hands pulling on your hair as Jungkook watches silently—his heart breaking as he sees the tear fall from your eye. Whatever he wants to say stays stuck in his throat.
“I’ll be fine,” Jungkook finds himself muttering, a loud scoff heard from you as you hold his face in your hands, making him look up at you. “Tell me what’s wrong, fuck! I’ll fix it, just tell me,” you cry out. Jungkook watches as your legs give out and you drop to the floor in front of him.
Jungkook feels his stomach drop, his heartbeat stops, and his mind goes blank. He wants to drop to his knees and beg you to not care and run away as far as you can from him, but the selfish part of him wants you to stay.
“Baby,” Jungkook slurs, the drugs in his system not letting him speak normally. “I’m so fucking sorry,” he apologizes again for the hundredth time in the past few days. Jungkook drops beside you, removing your hands from your face as another sob racks through your body. Your eyes red and puffy as tears continue to cascade down.
Jungkook knows nothing about love, but there’s you. The highlight of his days, the only reason he even wants to wake up in the morning.
He hates how he drags you along with him—in every bad decision he makes. Jungkook’s life hasn’t been easy; an abusive household isn’t something anybody wants, but he’s one of the unlucky ones who got it. He knows he’s a legal adult and can move out, but his feet stay glued inside that house because of her, his mom.
God. Jungkook has seen everything fucked up in the piece of shit he calls his house. The blows his mom would take from the man whose blood Jungkook carries. He wasn’t a father to him, that’s for sure. Screams and fighting are the only things his house is filled with. He never heard a bedtime story or got a good night hug. The hug was replaced by a hit on the cheek, jaw, face—or anywhere his dad could get his hands on.
Jungkook blames his dad for the way he is, and every time he looks at you, he imagines the what ifs. Jungkook has done everything he could do to push you away, but instead of leaving, you stayed. It’s scared the shit out of him.
He’s in love with you. Jungkook has never felt anything more in his life than his love for you—it’s almost pathetic how much you make him feel. If your love were a drug, Jungkook would do it every day, every hour, and every minute instead of all the shit he put in his system to forget.
Your love is pure and innocent—everything that Jungkook isn’t. Every time he looks at you, he’s afraid he will break you. He wishes you could realize how unfixable he is and leave—but instead, you’re on your knees begging for him to be better.
How badly did he want to be better; so he could be with you.
“Stop saying sorry and stop doing it, fuck,” you sob, your fist holding onto his hoodie—your knuckles turning white from fear that if you let him go, he’ll vanish.
“You’re better than this. I know you are,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, wetting his hoodie with your tears. “Please stop, you could die.” you beg desperately, like a child would.
“Shh,” he comforts, his hand rubbing your back as you sob into him, “I’m sorry.”
As Jungkook walked, the guilt inside him consumed him more and more. The hurt expression on your face after he disrespected you remained etched in his mind, feeling like someone was poking his heart with a needle with each step he took.
Similarly, the weight of the small bag in the pocket of his sweater sent a sense of panic through his body. He hadn’t planned on taking it, but the moment it was placed in his hand, he couldn’t bring himself to give it back. Instead, he bit his tongue and shoved it into his pocket.
His heart sank as an image flashed in his mind of what your reaction would be if you ever found out. With a shake of his head, he buried the thought deep within him before reaching the main door of his house.
Jungkook’s hand trembles as he holds onto the doorknob. He had nowhere else to go, it was either yours or this. He felt his throat close up as his mind went back to you, his heart screaming for you. To turn around and run back to you—like always, his safe space. The only place where he could let his guard down.
The aching sensation in his chest reminded him of the first time he told you about his dad. You were both seventeen—laying on the carpet of your room, staring up at the ceiling. The broken expression on your face after he confided in you made him feel worse than any hit he had ever taken.
“Did you seriously get into another fight?” you groaned as you examined his face, the purple and blue marks beginning to form twisting your stomach in knots. “Who was it this time?” you frowned, your hand reaching out to touch his bruised cheek.
“Didn’t fight anyone. I actually hit myself with the car door,” the lie flowed smoothly out of his mouth.
“A door?” You raised an eyebrow, not fully believing him. Jungkook had a tendency to throw the first punch after someone lightly touched him—he had more suspensions and run ins with the police than anyone could count. Every time you saw him, there was another bruise decorating his skin, always brushed off like it was no big deal.
“Who was it?” You tried again, your face turning to him.
Jungkook's eyes remained locked with the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling. “I can’t tell you,” he mumbled softly into the darkness.
“Why not? Is it a secret?” You quipped, scooting closer to his side—your finger tracing his features as he let out a deep breath. “It’s a really big secret,” he hushed, to which you only nodded eagerly.
“I can keep a secret,” you smiled, your heart beating fast in your chest as you noticed the proximity between you two. You raised a pinky into the air. “Pinky promise,” you bit your lip anxiously, watching him interlock his pinky with yours. “Okay, now tell me.”
“My dad,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“What?” You stuttered out, hoping you had heard him wrong.
“My dad, he's abusive,” he restated. The color drained from your face, and Jungkook saw it.
Sadness written all over your face. Words didn’t come out when you opened your mouth; instead, an ugly cry replaced the words.
“That’s why I can’t stand someone’s hands on me,” Jungkook says, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to escape the pain in his heart. It felt as if he was being kicked and thrown.
“Fuck.. I always touch you,” you bit your lip, trying to contain your sobs. “Your touch is the only touch that doesn’t repulse me, baby. So if you plan on not touching me, don’t,” Jungkook quickly interjected, grabbing your hand and intertwining it with his.
Jungkook loved your touch; your fingers on his skin felt like heaven. It almost confused him how much he looked forward to it—sometimes he found himself initiating it. You were the only exception with such privilege; anyone else who laid a finger on him sent a sense of nausea and shivers down his body.
“I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. Let me help you.. we can tell the police, he deserves to be in jail. Please,” you sobbed, placing your palm on his cheek.
“You think I don’t know he needs to go to jail? For all I know, he should be put on a electric chair,” Jungkook spat out, shoving your hand away from his face.
“And fuck. Yes, my mom knows. She fucking gets hit too,” he rambled, his chest heaving as he tried to look anywhere in your room that wasn’t you, and for the first time, you saw him break down.
As Jungkook crumbled down with a loud sob, his hands cover his face as his shoulders shake as he weeps, you wasted no time dropping to your knees and pulling him into you, whispering reassuring words in his ear.
"She doesn't leave," he cried. "I keep telling her he's going to kill her if she doesn't leave, but she stays." The cracks in his voice mirrored the cracks in your heart as you listened, feeling the weight of his pain, as the double meaning clicks in your head.
"And I can't leave. Who's going to protect her if I'm not there?" he sobbed quietly, his hands tightening around your waist. "I'm scared that if I leave for too long, I'll come back to a house with a dead body in it," he confessed, sending shivers down your spine.
"Baby," you cooed, tears streaming down your cheeks,
"we should tell the police. They'll help you. I promise."
But his response shattered your hopes.
"No," he croaked out, untangling himself from your embrace.
"Listen to me. If you even think about telling a policeman what I just told you, I swear to god yn, I will never fucking forgive you," Jungkook shook, his face contorted with pain and panic.
"I trust you enough to tell you, but I swear if you say anything about this to anyone, we're done. Whatever the fuck we have, it's done. I will never fucking forgive you."
Jungkook pushes the door open, and he’s met with silence. Without thinking twice, he rushes to his mom's room, slamming the door open to be met with her limp body on the bed.
His heart stops beating, and suddenly everything stops—his hand trembles as he makes his way to her. He nudges her once.
“Mom,” Jungkook calls, only to be met with silence.
“Mom,” he tries again. She stirs in her sleep.
“Jungkook?” She croaks, her voice hoarse as she peeks from her lying position. Jungkook's heart picks up again, letting out a sigh of relief.
“Mom, are you okay? What happened?” Jungkook asks, dropping beside her on the bed. His fingers move her dark hair off her face carefully, revealing a bruise on her cheek.
“He hit you again?” Jungkook lets out a growl, his fist tightening beside him.
“I made him mad. It’s not his fault,” she defends, almost automatically making Jungkook scoff. “Mom, that's not an excuse!” He grits his teeth.
“He isn’t a bad man, Jungkook. He's still your father,” she sighs, the look of tiredness clear on her face as she winces when she moves to her side. Jungkook watches dumbfounded.
“You know, you remind me of him,” she shakes out a laugh, the whole sentence feeling like a punch in the stomach for Jungkook. The more he tries to breathe, the more difficult it becomes. “He was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you—it’s like I’m seeing him. He is a good man underneath it all, Jungkook. You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” she continues, and every word feels like a hit in the gut.
“W-what do you mean.. I’m just like him?” Jungkook stutters, his throat drying up and the familiar feeling of tears picking up in his eyes have him clawing his nails into his palms.
“Do you think when I met your dad, he treated me wrong?” She finally locks eyes with Jungkook. The light in her eyes she once had is now gone, replaced with dull, tired eyes. “He was gentle with me, he was sweet, caring, he was everything to me. He’s still everything to me,” a tear rolls down her cheek, making Jungkook suck in a breath.
“What about me?” Jungkook's voice cracks, the knot in his throat tightening as he watches his mom shake her head.
“Am I not everything to you, Mom?” Another tear falls, followed by more.
“It’s more complicated than you think, Jungkook,” she sighs. Jungkook feels his heart crack into a million pieces as he watches the woman who brought him into this life discard him.
“He’s going to kill you one day,” Jungkook speaks, wiping the tears from his eyes before clearing his voice. “He’s going to kill you, and you’re going to let it happen.”
“He wouldn’t do that to me,” she whispers into the silence.
“He wouldn’t?” A shocked laugh leaves Jungkook's lips as he can’t believe what he just heard. “He fucking wouldn’t? He fucking hits you? Aren’t you fucking scared that one day he throws the wrong punch?” Jungkook shouts, anger taking over.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” she snaps. “I’m your mother, and you don’t get to fucking talk to me like that.”
“Well, you’re a shitty mother. A good mother would put their child first. The only reason I’m still here is because of you!” Jungkook snaps back, his frustration growing stronger as he watches his mom stay motionless.
“I keep coming back because I’m scared he’ll kill you. But apparently, you don’t give a fuck,” he breathes out, his hand tugging on his hair—feeling almost manic at the lack of his mother's reaction.
“Every hit he took on me, you blamed it on me. When all I did was try to protect you. But you always choose him. So fucking next time he comes in through those doors and has his way with you, don’t come running or yelling my name to come and save you,” Jungkook spits out before walking out of the room and shutting the door behind him with a loud bang.
Jungkook's mind kept racing, never shutting up for a moment, allowing him to think. His brain was filled with repetitions of everything his mom just said. The words "he was just like you, you know? Every time I look at you-it's like I'm seeing him" kept getting repeated in his head over and over again without a break.
Screams of his mom asking for him to save her echoed in his brain, the weight of his guilt and the haunting memories that plagued his mind had Jungkook pulling out the small baggie from his sweater, moving to the small desk in his room.
Jungkook dropped the white powder on the surface, making a line. Without hesitation, Jungkook leaned over, pinching one of his nostrils before snorting.
A sharp burning, stinging sensation spread through Jungkook's nose as he sniffed, rubbing off the remaining powder.
Jungkook dropped onto his bed in a star position as he stared at the ceiling, the feeling of numbness taking over his body. His muscles relaxed as the drug entered his bloodstream, sending a sense of euphoria—a warm feeling spread throughout his body, making him groan in pleasure.
And for once, the voices finally stopped.
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It was embarrassing how you found yourself looking for the man you were in love with every corner of the campus. You started with the lockers and hallways, peeking through every classroom, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of the boy who left you standing in your angel costume Saturday night.
You had debated on running after him; the guilt that weighed you down from the slap was intense. Your touch was supposed to be his only gateway, instead, you used it against him to hurt him the same way his dad does. As messed up as his words were, it didn’t compare.
“Have you seen Jungkook?” You ask, poking Dahlia on the shoulder. She turns to look at you, mouth filled with food as she nods without saying anything.
“You have?” Your eyebrow raises as she continues to nod eagerly.
“Y-yeah, he’s ou-outside, in the corner,” Dahlia finally says, swallowing her food. You throw a small ‘thank you’ and rush outside.
As you run to the corner where everybody meets up to smoke, you curse out loud as you trip on the crack of the pavement before changing your pace to walking instead.
Your eyes meet his in an instant as you pass the corner, the lit-up joint hanging from his lips. You look around to see Taehyung and Jimin with worried looks on their faces. As you walk closer to them, Jungkook passes the joint to his friend before crossing his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would find it hot.
“What’s up, pretty,” Taehyung says, trying to break the awkward silence as he takes a hit off the joint before passing it to Jimin, who looks uncomfortable as hell.
“Hey,” you acknowledge them both, giving polite head nods before turning your attention to the boy in the middle, his eyes bloodshot red with a small grin decorating his handsome face.
“What’s so funny?” You snap, crossing your arms in front of you. A loud laugh slips out of his mouth, shocking the boys beside him. “Hi baby,” he says, his eyes dropping low as he moves closer to you. You push him away with a hand on his chest, making him pout.
“Rude,” he playfully scoffs, leaning back onto the wall and reaching for the blunt on Taehyung’s fingers as he raises an eyebrow at you.
“That’s enough,” you say, taking away the joint from Taehyung’s hand as Jungkook was about to reach for it.
“This is our cue to leave. Let’s go,” Taehyung hurries off, pulling on his blonde friends arm, before they both mutter something under their breaths as they disappear around the corner.
“Don’t throw that, it’s some good shit, and I just bought it,” Jungkook chuckles, reaching for it only for you to push him away.
“Alright then,” you pull the rolled-up paper up to your lips and take a drag. Jungkook's face drops, and suddenly nothing is funny. His hand immediately shoots up and yanks the joint out of your mouth before throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook roars, watching you cough loudly as white smoke rushes out of your mouth.
“Fuck, what were you thinking?” He panics, rubbing a hand over your back to coax your coughing fit. Your throat and chest burn as you continue to cough.
“Don’t ever do that shit again, do you hear me? It’s not good for you,” Jungkook sighs, his rough hand drawing circles down your back as you finally calm down.
“So, you agree it’s not good for you?” You say, your voice hoarse from all the coughing. “Let’s not do this right now, yn,” he pulls on your arm as he walks you to the parking lot. “You never want to do anything,” you yank your arm from his grip. Jungkook takes a deep breath, trying his best not to snap at you.
“Just get in the car, baby,” he continues, opening the passenger door for you. Instead, you push him off and slam the door shut.
“You’re high as fuck; you can’t drive, asshole,” you snap, throwing your arms in the air in anger. “And you’re not?” he clenches his teeth. “I took one hit,” you shove a finger in his face.
“Yeah, a big-ass one. Before you know it, you’ll be high, so get in the fucking car or I’ll put you in it myself,” he snaps. “You wouldn’t dare,” you spit out, and before you know it, your ass is in the air as he hauls you over his shoulder.
“I wouldn’t?” Jungkook mutters under his breath as he opens the car door and sits you down on the seat, reaching for the seatbelt and strapping you in. “Where are you taking me?” You roll your eyes as he sits down beside you.
“To your fucking house,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot of the school and driving you home.
The whole car ride is filled with silence; neither of you decides to utter a word. The moment the car stops in front of your house, you hurriedly unbuckle your seatbelt and open your door before sprinting to your door, unlocking it, and disappearing inside. Jungkook almost screams into his hands, wanting to throw a whole tantrum in this car, but he decides otherwise.
With a loud sigh, he turns off the car, turns to the back seat, gets his sweater, and jumps out of the car. He takes the same route he always did when he showed up at your house, climbing himself over the picket fence before climbing the tree next to your window.
The window is opened as you sit on the ground of your room, your knees up to your chest. Jungkook throws his sweater in first before jumping in.
Then his heart dropped, your small hands hold the tiny bag that was in the pocket of his sweater that had fallen out.
“What’s this, Jungkook?” You voice out, and Jungkook doesn’t miss the wavering of your voice as you finally look up at him. His heart might just have been stabbed by your shocked expression, the betrayal and the pain etched in your expressions send a shooting pain in his heart.
“Baby-“
“Don’t fucking baby me! What the fuck is this?” You interrupt him, your hand shaking as you think of every possible drug that could be in the bag. Jungkook didn’t reply; the words suddenly died in his mouth.
“Is this a way of pushing me away?” You ask, tears starting to flow down your cheeks, mixing with your anger and heartbreak.
“Did something happen at home again? Why? Fuck, why?” You cry, a soul-crushing sob that comes out of you, which has Jungkook coming back to his senses. He feels like shit, and that word doesn’t even cover half of what he’s feeling.
“Please tell me why? I’ll do anything. Let me help you, just fucking stop doing this shit, baby.” You cry, pulling his body to yours, wrapping your arms around his waist, crying into his uniform.
“Use me, scream at me, tell me horrible shit if that helps. Just don’t ever touch any drugs, Jungkook. I don’t know what I would do if you died.” You whisper the last words as you sob into his arms, begging for him to stop. “I’m never leaving your side, so get that into your head. If this is your way of pushing me away, it won’t work.” You sob.
And that’s where everything clicks for Jungkook. His mind thinks back to his mom, “You have to understand that I could never leave him. I’m in love with him,” and his heart drops to the ground. All the walls he took so long to build collapse. He was just like his dad—Jungkook wanted to say he wasn’t, but here he was, hurting you, making you sob into his arms, begging for him to change. The same thing his mom does anytime his father would get drunk.
“I’m not good for you,” Jungkook finally speaks, his hands cupping your face. “I’m not good for you.” He repeats, and you shake your head disapprovingly repeatedly. “Stop.” You cry, your tears wetting Jungkook's palms as he repeats the same thing over again.
“You deserve someone so much fucking better, baby,” Jungkook whispers, dropping his forehead to yours. “You deserve so much better than me. I can’t give you anything, baby, besides heartache and pain.” He continues as you repeat ‘no’ over and over again under your breath.
“Please don’t leave me,” you cry, as he untangles himself from you, pushing your hand away gently when you try to reach for him.
“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t leave. Stay the night; we’ll talk about this in the morning.” That was the last thing Jungkook heard as he jumped out of the window and ran to his car, leaving his heart in the hands of the girl crying on the floor, praying for him to be safe.
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jymwahuwu · 1 month
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Hi! Really love your stories they always scratch my brain (*≧∀≦*)❤️, so I got an idea and wanted to ask what you think about it
I got this question with Sunday on the minigame/event (idk what to call it lol)
"Just as you're about to pull a dusty hard-leatherback book, you hear a gentle whisper within earshot, "Averoy Rosewood's works are notorious for their obscurity," the Oak Family Head Sunday faintly smiles at you. "Perhaps you need more elaboration."
(I couldn't put the image since anon asks don't allow me to put images😮‍💨, but it's from a Board Encounter in Cosmodyssey)
and when I read it my brain immediately went WHAT IF SUNDAY FILLS THE READER WITH A VIBRATOR ON THE LIBRARY, and him just watching in amusement as he talks about books and asking her questions about them while he plays with the levels of vibrations with a control on his hands and she just struggles to make sentences, so he goes and asks "What's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" To tease her and remind that she's in a public space and can't make much noise unless she wants everyone to know about what they're doing.
Hmm... I wrote this about Sunday, but I feel like maybe it could be about Jing Yuan or Aventurine 🤔, anyways sorry if it sounds weird my brain sometimes goes into unga bonga mode when I think about these men.
Sincerely,
An unhinged anon.
Thank you for telling me. I experienced this event and read the content of Sunday helping us in the library!! Wrote a little bit, I hope you like it 💗🫶
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cw: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, abuse of credit, vibrator, harassment
How about you being the librarian at The Family Library? A nerdy librarian. The Family claims that this is a library open to everyone to read and borrow, covering a variety of books and hologram collections.
Sunday, the leader of the Oak Family noticed you. He can accurately talk to you about your interests, hobbies and ideals, and encourage you…but one thing is that you are not religious enough in your belief in harmony. You are too withdrawn…and cannot integrate into The Family. Sing hymns, participate in activities, and protect The Family, others can do it, but what can you do? He cannot allow you to continue in this position under these circumstances. You panicked, grabbing his sleeves and pleading with him through tears. "W-what, I really believe Lord Xipe…I need this job badly! Please Mr. Sunday…"
He offered a plan. He used his gloves to push a delicate small box in front of you. You must put two vibrators in your underwear while on duty to test your professional abilities. If you can tolerate sinful sexual pleasure, you qualify for this position.
"But… Mr. Sunday, can I-can I take a break?"
"Of course. I'm not here to torture you. This is for your and everyone's happiness and harmony, I hope you understand." His words ignited the hope in your heart. "You have 2 hours a day to take them down. Allocate your own time. After get off work, you head to my office and I will check on your progress. You must do this every working day."
"Check?" Your heart sank into the starry sky and was crushed. "Okay. Mr. Sunday..."
These two vibrators… are pearl white and have an angel wings pattern on them. It's silent, but it delivers a surge of pleasure to your private parts, sometimes fast and sometimes slow down. It's not much better when it's slow - it's a long, quiet torture that gives you no relief. You kept your legs still and sorted your books and documents, your underwear getting wet. Every half minute, you check like a hawk to see if you have wet your clothes, fearing that it has become a joke in the eyes of others…
He occasionally wanders into the library to check on your work and ask you to recommend books in a certain category or answer questions about the collection.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable?" Sunday approached you with caring eyes and ruthlessly pushed the controller frequency to the highest level. You lowered your head, holding back tears, your legs trembling. "I-I'm fine. Mr. Sunday. Thank you for your concern."
This kind-hearted gentleman and leader offers to take you to another secluded corner of the library to rest. On the road, Sunday dials down the vibration frequency and doesn't crank it up until you get to the corner. The intense ecstasy immediately hits you to the extreme and stimulates your nerves. You endured your moans, trembling in Sunday's arms as you reached orgasm. His hands caressed your hair like a lovable pet. He commented that your ability to endure needs to be improved.
After you get off work, Sunday asks you to take off all your clothes in the office and fold them on the table. He uses white gloves to inspect and rub your private parts, circling them with his thumb. In the watery light, those fingers slowly inserted between your legs and twitched. He clicked his tongue in disappointment when he realized that his fingers were already wet enough to slide into the inner walls before being inserted. "Not religious enough, are you? What are you thinking about? You're letting pleasure take over your body."
"...I'm sorry!! Mr. Sunday, Please give me a chance…" you begged with a sob, then cummed hard at his disappointed sigh.
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bitchinbarzal · 15 days
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Happy Never After | T Meier
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summary: not everything has a happy ending
this is a re-write
-
"I don't understand you sometimes!"
"What's not to understand Timo?! I drop everything for you all the time and you just don't care-"
"I care!"
"No you don't! I dropped everything for you when you were traded to Jersey, I left my job and sold my apartment to follow you and I put up you you being absolutely miserable every single day because of it! I moved around the country now we’re in Jersey without my home and job!"
A weight lifted off your shoulders, finally speaking your heart. Timo shifted awkwardly infront of you.
"Glad you got that off your chest" he grumbled, angrily
"you're not the only one who sacrificed stuff you know?"
You laughed humourlessly "what could you have possibly had to give up?"
It was like he was searching for something to say "| missed out on like everything it was to be a rookie because I was tied down to, to you!"
Your eyes went wide and Timo bit his lip, regretting how he'd said it.
"You 'missed out'?" You put air quotes around your words and quirked your eyebrow
He gulped
"On what exactly? The drinking and partying? The hooking up every other night? Every Sunday I came over Kevin had a new girl in his bed! Is that what you want?"
"What? No-"
"That's what you said! You just said that!" You wave your hands around with no reason, just feeling frustrated.
"You know that's not what I meant!"
"That's what you said!" You screamed, as if raising your volume would get the point across better.
He ran a hand over his face and sighed "God would you stop being such a bitch-"
Nope.
The sound of your palm meeting the side of his face sounded through his apartment. He grabbed his cheek which was turning red now while you stumbled back, tears in your eyes and gasped.
"Don't you dare, don't you dare call me names!" He reached out for you, to console you but you pulled away "No, No don't! Don't touch me! God, I can't even look at you"
"Babe, please just listen I didn't - woah what are you doing?" He rushed, watching as you picked up your coat and bag.
"I'm leaving, I'm going home"
"Please don't leave! C'mon I'm about to leave on a two week long road trip let's not do this"
You looked at him, breaking his heart as he took in your red nose and tear stained cheeks while you sniffled
"I can't Timo"
When the door shut he stood in the silence wondering
what the fuck just happened?
When he woke up the next morning he had hoped you were there, you weren't. You hadn't answered any of his calls and texts.
The devils were about to leave for a two week road trip and he didn't want to leave this on a bad note but he had no time before the flight was due to leave.
Before take off you received a text
Timo 🤍
i love you and I'm so sorry. please just call me, I wanna hear your voice.
You read the text, like all the others but never replied.
Instead simply throwing your phone away to sit and sulk.
Day four of the trip and he still hadn't heard from you.
The first sign of life was when Jack's girlfriend posted a photo on her instagram stories of a bunch of denim jackets with the boys names and numbers on the back for the wags annual brunch.
He spotted his own name on a jacket, heart content to know you were there. However a couple of hours later he saw another story post of the same brunch and could see that same table with one jacket lay on it, the number twenty eight standing out to him clearly.
It had started taking a toll on his play around Vegas.
Nico spoke to him but was shut down quickly as Timo insisted there was nothing wrong and that he was sorry. Nico didn't care about his play, he was worried about his friend.
A week into the trip you visited Timo's apartment with a cardboard box in hand. Packing up everything you wanted to take with you. At some point you'd gotten so emotional you sat down on the couch to breath and turned the tv on.
It flickered to the last channel it was on, hockey. You watched the screen as it panned across the devils and the canucks. You watched as the screen showed Timo, holding his chain in hand and kissing the pendant that hung on it - your pendant.
"Oh T..." you sighed, biting your lip and turning the TV off.
When the road trip ended Timo couldn't wait to get home and see you, try to resolve this clear issue.
Opening the door, he immediately felt off. His eyes darted around the room trying to figure out what was different.
Your favourite blanket that hung over the couch was gone.
Your shoes weren't littering the floor next to the front door.
You weren't there.
Timo scrambled for his phone, calling you and texting you to be hit with the voicemail.
37 voicemails.
146 text messages.
27 instagram DM's.
6 twitter DM's.
1 email.
You never replied.
It wasn't until a few days later you called him when you knew he'd be at practice unable to see his phone so you could leave a message.
When he returned to the locker room and saw his missed call he cursed, rushing to listen to the voicemail.
"hey timo, I know it was shitty to ghost you like that but I feel like if I didn't do it this way I would make it worse for everyone. I feel like we need time apart, you made it clear that being in this relationship made you miss out on things so I want to give you the chance to explore that lifestyle! I'll always be your biggest fan, from San Jose to Jersey I've got you but I think I just gotta have you from afar for a little while"
Timo looked at his phone for a moment before he threw the phone onto the floor and stood on it repeatedly.
Completely unaware everyone was watching the scene he was causing.
It was Jonas’ hands on his shoulders that snapped him out of his bubble "C'mon man, let's go some-"
"She left me"
"Okay, come on buddy not here"
He looked up at his friend and let out a soft, shaky breath before he shoved his head on his shoulder and began to sob.
"You're alright, it's alright"
The pounding on your front door that night startled you, leaving your desk to answer the clearly urgent guest
The door wasn't even open enough to see you before you heard "What the fuck is going on?!"
"Hi Lauren, come in, lovely to see you" you joked, rolling your eyes as she barged into your apartment.
"Timo is on my couch right now crying, what is going on? More importantly are you ok?" She asked, eyes fluttering over you to check.
You smiled softly "I'm okay Laur, I'm sorry I didn't talk to you l just - my head has been fried"
Her eyes softened "hey listen, I'm here for you okay? I just don't understand what's going on? Jonas brought him home and we are both as clueless as each other"
"I broke up with him"
"You What? This is a joke right?"
"Laur, i feel bad enough please don't make me feel worse" you groaned.
She stood there looking at you "I don't get it, you're Timo and Y/N. You don't break up"
"Yeah well.." You trialled off.
You went into all the details. Explaining the cause of the fight and all the things he said to you amidst it all.
By the end you were both in tears and when Lauren hugged you, you felt relaxed for the first time in a long time
"We love You, so much! and we support you always-"
"But Jonas-"
"But Jonas nothing, you are our friend too and it'll take some getting used to but we support our friends"
When Lauren returned home that night she didn't speak to either of the boys. Clearly seeing how much Timo was hurting right now that being angry at him wasn't an option.
He returned home, to an empty house on day three.
He felt like he was becoming a burden in their home.
So he moved the pity party back to his place.
Life carried on as normal as it could, he played hockey, he practiced and he slept. He did everything he would usually without you. He tried not to think about you too much but it was hard living in the place he had never been without you.
The days and month kind of moulded into one.
Halloween passed, Christmas passed, New Years all without you.
Timo downloaded tinder and bumble. He let his friends set him up. Nothing was working. He hated this.
The next time he saw you was New Year's Day.
Lauren had asked for you to come along to the game with her as the Devils were playing the Flyers in the stadium series and her future in-laws would be present.
You'd been friends with Jonas since high school and his parents always enjoyed seeing you.
Jonas obviously hadn't passed on your news to his parents.
"We're super excited for the wedding! And you must be too sweetheart, oh you and Timo will be next huh?"
Your face went red and you stuttered until Lauren replied "actually, Nutchara. Timo and Y/N broke up in September"
She looked shocked "Oh no, sweetheart I'm so sorry ! didn't know!" Pulling you into a hug to console you.
The hug was showcased on the jumbotron, Timo watched from the bench, his heart in his throat.
After the game the Siegenthaler’s were gathered together with you chatting away and Timo overheard Nutchara speaking as he passed.
"Oh now you're single maybe we can finally set you up with Nico, he's a bit hopeless with romance"
You laughed, making a comment about "Poor Neeks" Timo about-turned bumping into his teammate behind him and poking a finger into his chest before grumbling "If Nico puts his hands near my girl, tell him he's a fucking dead man"
You did not go out with Nico. Jonas made sure his parents didn’t meddle.
January passed and the rest of the months ran quick.
You were helping Lauren out with wedding stuff, constantly flying back to Canada to visit the venue, speak to catering, order flowers. You name it.
The devils never made it to play offs.
You watched them the night they failed to qualify.
You wrote out a text to Timo
i'm sorry. you deserved that one.
You didn't send it.
The wedding planning soon started coming into play.
Bachelorette parties and Bachelor weekends commenced before the big day.
You spent the week before trying to fix everything to be perfect for their big day.
The Friday night was everyone flying into town. You couldn't be there to pick people up as your own flight out of Newark had been delayed but the team pulled through with Nico and Jack taking point as welcome committee.
Your new flight landed hours later, while everyone was supposed to be at dinner. You texted Jack to ensure someone could pick you up and he told you he had it it sorted.
You wanted to kill him when you exited the airport and you saw Timo waiting for you in the loading zone.
He was leaned up against his car, rushing forward for your bags when he saw you
"I thought Jack was picking me up"
"He ran out of fuel and I had a full tank so he sent me"
Your sighed "Well alright then"
The ride back to the hotel was quiet and awkward.
Nobody tried to make small talk.
When you arrived at dinner you swiftly knocked Jack's head and said "Never do that again"
Saturday was the rehearsal dinner and you weren't feeling so great.
You had put on the dress and headed across to the venue. You did your due diligence and welcomed in both Lauren and Jonas’ families.
Jonas was mingling with people but didn't miss how Timo’s stare hardened when Nico walked up to you and hugged you hello.
"Please don't murder him, this is my wedding after all"
Timo took a drink and grumbled "I make no promises but I'll at least hold off until after his speech" continuing to watch your interaction.
Jonas laughed and walked off with a "Thanks bud"
Timo kept an eye on you all night long, feeling something was off.
You didn't look right.
After everyone was sat for the meal and speeches had been done you wandered off to the bathroom and hadn't returned for quite a while.
A break in the meal service gave him the opportunity to slip away to find you.
He found the ladies bathroom, he knocked and said
"Y/N, you in there?"
"Yeah, I'm here. What's up?" You croaked. Timo frowned before saying "I'm coming in"
"Timo, no-" it was too late, he'd already made his way into the bathroom to find you on the floor hunched over the toilet.
He walked over, pulling his suit jacket off and draped it over your shoulder and then pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail to the best of his ability.
"You don't have to-" "Just hush, I'm here"
You were silent but grateful, continuing to spew for the next twenty minutes.
"I think I just ate bad chicken on the plane" you mumbled, defeated and laying against the tile wall.
"Let's get you to bed" he decided, pulling you up from the wall. Your body, weakened, fell into him and you groaned
"But the dinner " "can be done without you come on"
He slipped the two of you out the back door and called a cab back to the hotel. For a moment you forgot your situation, opting to think this was all normal.
When Timo took you up to your room and helped you get ready for bed, all normal.
You knew you shouldn't have but when Timo tried to leave you cried out "Please stay, I can't be alone like this"
It didn't take an awful lot of convincing, Timo knew you and he knew you were right. You never really got sick but when you did you always needed help.
He stayed.
He stayed all night while you slept, his fingers tangled in your hair scratching lightly at your scalp to soothe you.
At five that next morning he left you in order to return to his room and get ready for the wedding.
When you woke up, slightly confused you found a note on the pillow next to you.
morning, I had to go get the boys up. hope you're feeling better, I'm sure you'll look beautiful today. advil and water on the nightstand < 3
You smiled lightly, looking over to see a plastic water bottle and the aforementioned pills waiting for you.
You picked up your phone from the other side, a few texts from people checking you were ok was all along with a message in the bridesmaid group chat about getting ready together.
"She's alive!" Was yelled when you entered the room.
You smiled "Yes, yes I'm here I had food poisoning"
"Timo took care of you though, that was sweet" one of the other bridesmaids said, curling her hair and looking at you in the mirror.
You nodded, picking up a champagne glass from the table "Yeah, he left to go get Jonas up this morning-"
"Wait, wait, wait!" Lauren yelled "He stayed over?!" Yeah nodded sheepishly "Uh yeah, I guess I asked him too when I was tired I think I was just used to him helping me out when I'm sick"
Lauren gave you a look but you didn't press it further, after all it was her wedding day.
The ceremony didn't last long, Lauren had always said she didn't want people being bored and just wanted to party.
You'd found your space at the head table, right next to Nico and you couldn't help but think Jonas’ mom had something to do with the table plans.
You were talking after dinner with Nico about everything going on in his life when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders.
You turned to see Timo smiling down at you "Hey Neeks, mind if I steal her for a bit?"
Nico smiled "Nah man, she's all yours. I'll see you in a bit y/n"
You smiled back before pushing the chair out and grabbing Timo’s hand to be directed onto the dance floor.
You didn't speak for the first few minutes, just basking in each other's company until you said "Hey thanks for last night you didn't have to do that"
"I couldn't leave you to fend for yourself"
"I'm not your problem anymore T"
"Not by my choice" he noted and you huffed "Timo-
"No, please just hear me out because l've been waiting for the right time to speak to you and I mean what are weddings for if not love, eh? Whatever that stupid fight we had was about was not worth loosing you over. I hate myself for that and the things I said because I love you so freaking much and I was so stupid for allowing myself to loose you. When you left me I was broken"
You sighed, looking up at him for any sign of a lie.
There was none "Timo... I miss you too but you know it's not that easy to just get back together"
"I know, I just needed you to know how I felt" he nodded.
"Well Thank you, i appreciate it. Maybe we can talk again whenever we're back home in jersey?"
"I like the sound of that"
You nodded, Timo twirling you out in the dance and when he pulled you back in he said "You do look beautiful tonight I guess I predicted that right"
Back in Jersey come the fall it had been a while since that night at the Siegenthaler wedding.
The devils home opener was packed with fans.
You were sat with a beer in hand, looking out on the ice at the red jersey's looking at all the new names around.
Your thoughts were broken when you felt something drape over your shoulders, turning you saw Lauren alongside other girlfriends and wives all smiling at you.
"Hey!"
"Hey sweetheart we didn't think we'd see you here, we saw you from the box" Lauren points up to the 'wags' box.
You blush "Yeah, i uh haven't been up there in a while"
"Well we thought you might want this back, a little birdy told me you might need it" you pulled the jacket draped over your shoulders off and looked at it.
The black denim jacket displayed the number twenty eight alongside Meier so nicely.
You smiled "That little birdy would be correct" you answered and the girls all cheered.
"Ugh, finally they're back together! We're so happy for you"
"Thank you guys honestly, it's been a massive journey but we're here now!"
Come the end of the night the boys were on a winning high and Timo didn't think it could get better than this.
That was until he came out of the locker room to find you with your back turned to him he saw the name and number on your jacket.
He groaned "Oh god I forgot what a beautiful sight this was" slipping behind you, arms travelling around your front to land on your abdomen and kissing the side of your head.
You leaned into him "You like it?"
"Like it? I love It" he announced, leaning in closer to your ear to whisper "I'd like it better on our floor”
You straightened up "Oh we've gotta go guys! We've got stuff to do. See you all next week!"
You were halfway out the door when someone shouted
"they really never changed!"
174 notes · View notes
adelheidvonschicksal · 2 months
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⋆。°✩ Do Roommates Sleep Together?
“We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but the delicate foundation you built cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt. “Do roommates sleep together too?”
Synopsis: Your relationship with Xavier is unconventional, skipping and trampling on the many proper steps society deems appropriate. It should take months to form the trust needed to sleep together, and it should take years for you to ask him to move in with you.
Yet, here you are, with more courage to ask him to live with you than to tell him you’re in love with him.
Content Warning: fluff, suggestive dialogue, pining, literal sleeping together, a lot of internal exposition, mild angst, hurt/comfort, acquaintances to friends to lovers, implied soulmate tomfoolery to justify the fast burn, small references to chapter 4 main story, Heartstring Symphony, Nighttime Stroll, Shooting Stars Myth, and Unit 602's Representative Phone Call, Xavier sucks at following the non-interference policy (he tried his best), female reader, 6.5k words, safe for work
A/N: First section before Warm Wishes/Dreams within Reach tender moments and second section after Close Feelings tender moment to give a better timeframe. This is going to be two parts with the second part NSFW.
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“Do you want to hang out at my place?” 
Your smile begins to flatten as Xavier stares at you from his doorway. There’s a listless energy radiating from him. It’s intimidating even if there’s no anger behind his hooded gaze, the kind of intimidation where you’re afraid he might not be listening to you or even wants to listen to you.
“This new scary movie came out. Tara was supposed to watch with me, but she had a last-minute thing to take care of,” you explain, watching as he yawns and wipes his eyes. “So, I thought that maybe you’d like to watch with me instead. Or, we can do something else. I got games. Monopoly, Phase 10, Kitty Cards.” 
Xavier rubs at the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eye. “Are you sure you want it to be just the two of us?” 
There are many things to be said about your relationship with Xavier. You’re work partners, neighbors in the same apartment complex, and you consider him your friend. It’s also true that your friendship is young despite the many hours at the arcade together and whatever stories your co-workers like to imagine, making your offer sound more like a date invitation than hanging out. It causes you to go tongue-tied as your innocent mistake blankets you.
“Oh, not in that way! I mean not that it would be a bad thing.” You start to lose your composure when you meet his gaze again. It’s not like you wouldn’t go on a date with him if given the opportunity. He’s tall, soft-spoken, and very handsome. It’s more surprising he doesn't have a girlfriend. “I was thinking it could be a good way to foster friendship between hunters. Yeah, that’s it!”
The truth was that you were looking for something to distract yourself ever since the incident at your grandmother’s house. Tara having to cancel bummed you out more than you wanted to admit, but you didn’t want him to agree because he felt sorry for you.
“I understand,” Xavier cuts in. “I’d be happy to join you…in an hour,” he finishes with another small yawn. 
“Great!” you cheer. “See you soon.”
When you make it back to the elevator, you’re taken aback about how happy you are that he agreed. You thought you were simply happy not to have to be alone on your day off, but this was a different kind of satisfaction than when you invited Tara. It was a little strange but you ignored the thought and clicked the button to your floor. 
When Xavier arrives, everything goes as planned. You spread out an array of snacks on the table in front of the sofa, which your selection seems to be approved by how quickly he opens the package of chips and hums to himself when he takes a bite. 
“This is supposed to be super scary! I read you won’t sleep for days after,” you tell him, grabbing the remote to play the movie. 
“For days? Sounds awful,” Xavier mentions between bites, making you chuckle. 
“If you get scared, you always have me to protect you.” 
“I’m more worried about you than me,” he mouths off. “You always look like a statue when I tell you scary stories.”
“Fake movies and stories based on real places are different!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he agrees on the surface. You’re not sure how you only make friends with people who love to tease you, but you make no mention of it as the movie finally reaches its opening sequence. 
It doesn’t take long for you to realize this movie’s fear factor was greatly over exaggerated. There were monsters, sure, but also one too many jump scares and dark scenes that made it hard to tell what was happening. Fighting wanderers for a living did leave you a bit desensitized as well, you guess. 
As you reach to fill in your boredom with more chips, you can’t help but notice how Xavier looks like he’s about to give out any second. His eyes are drooping and his head bobbing to the side. You lose count of how many times he forces his limp body straight and strains to watch the movie playing on the screen, one agonizingly slow blink at a time.
“I’m fine,” he says before you can bring up how tired he looks.
“It’s not a big deal, Xavier. This movie is pretty boring, so if you wanna call it a night, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings.” You don’t want him to leave yet but you don't want to keep him up either. Sighing, you’re frustrated the movie isn’t as exciting as you thought it would be, and it’s difficult to fight the disappointment from showing on your face. 
And, well, Xavier…
“It’s alright. It’s honestly not bad, so—”
Xavier doesn’t even finish his sentence before his head hangs over. In hindsight, you start to realize that you must have woken him up earlier, explaining his prior passiveness.
You always wondered what he did on the days he wasn’t working. It should’ve been apparent to you that he spends most of his free time sleeping. No wonder his apartment was always so quiet during the day. You’re thankful he wasn’t actually annoyed at you earlier but guilty for interrupting his rest and decide to grab him a blanket.
You don’t notice him tilting to the side before you have the chance to get up. It’s quick after that. Without warning, he falls into you, his head brushing the side of your shoulder before he collapses on top of your lap.
The situation takes you by surprise, and the world churns to a slow stop. The sounds from the television fade into the background in favor of your heartbeat becoming the thing you’re most aware of when it registers that Xavier, a man you recently can call a friend, has fallen asleep in your lap. You have no idea what to do in a situation like this. It isn’t on purpose, so there’s no need to blow up, but you can’t allow this to continue.
So, you choose to wake him up.
“Xavier,” you call and rock his shoulder. You call his name again, a third time, and finally give up when he doesn’t budge by the fourth. “Would it be too mean to roll him off?” you wonder, grimacing as you imagine him hitting the floor. It would definitely be too mean.
Sighing, you gaze at his face nuzzled too comfortably against your thighs. Xavier looks so incredibly soft like this, bundled in an oversized Blanchi hoodie. It isn’t anything you’re not used to seeing him in. However, this is different. With his hair strewn across his temple and his face so at ease, it reminds you of a big fluffy bunny flopped over for an evening nap. Just like a cuddly bunny, you can’t resist petting him, brushing your fingers across his bangs to fix them. Your heart flutters as you confirm his hair is incredibly soft and his pale eyelashes longer than you ever noticed.
Not able to restrain yourself, you gently poke his cheek, marveling when it’s much chubbier than you imagined. It causes him to moan, his eyes twitching from the intrusion.
“Mm…what?” he groans out.
Swiftly, you pull your hand away, frightened he might have caught you.
“I wasn’t doing anything,” you stammer out, not the best of excuses; but in your defense, he caught you off-guard by waking up from something so small. When he doesn’t respond again, you quickly realize he’s still asleep. “Oh, he sleep talks!”
A mischievous wave washes over you from the new piece of information you acquired. Teasingly, you poke his cheek again, giggling when he shifts to hide his eyes from the light.
“Xavier, I have a question to ask you.” You slide your fingertips along his bangs once more. “Be honest. Are you Lumiere?”
Patiently, you wait for a response. However, nothing comes after several seconds. Just when you’re about to give up hope, you hear him muttering. You lean your head closer, hoping to hear him better.
“Red…” he mumbles.
You repeat after him. “Red?”
“Red…extra spicy.”
You blink at him, knitting your brows. “Extra spicy?”
Oh. The hot pot restaurant.
“Dreaming about food? That tracks.” You shrug. It was worth a shot. “Fine, keep your secrets.”
Choosing to leave him be, you’re about to sit back and continue the movie except you are interrupted by him mumbling again. This time, he whispers your name quietly under his breath causing your undivided attention to fall on him.
“Yes?” you ask.
Xavier sighs softly, peacefully.
“Come home…with me…”
There must be a world record for how fast someone can heat up, and you must have broken it. It’s like someone threw you directly into boiling oil and left you to burn in it. There’s no way you heard him correctly.
Did Xavier really ask you to come home…with him? Is he dreaming about you? If so, in what kind of dream? And why?
These are the questions stumping you. Sure, you consider him your friend, but when did he start to see you as someone close to him?
The more important question is why aren’t you doing anything about it? You aren’t angry about him whispering your name in his sleep nor offended, and it didn’t feel out of place to be close to him, like this, with his head resting in your lap and your hand in his hair. The moment becomes nicer and nicer—treasured—the more times you run it through your head, familiar even, like déjà vu.
There are too many variables for your brain to piece it all together in such a short amount of time. Praying for the tempest battering your emotional insides to reside, you resign yourself to your fate, allowing him to have his peace while your mind completely focuses on the words slipping from his dreams.
When Xavier begins to stir hours later, your movie is long finished, credits rolling as some dramatic music plays in the background. His eyes tighten then relax before he finally opens them, greeting you with hazy blue. He lifts himself into a stretch then rubs his eyes with his wrist. When he finally adjusts to his surroundings, he looks at you with an apologetic sulk.
“Did I…fall asleep on you?” he asks, grogginess still riding his voice.
“Literally or figuratively?” you ask as a joke, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him. Shaking your head, you try to ease the tension—the one known by him and the tension inside of yourself—by laughing. “It was both.”
Xavier blinks a few times, turns his head to the screen to see the credits rolling, and snaps his eyes back on you questioningly. “And you let me for two hours?”
“You looked really tired,” you explain, ignoring how hot your cheeks start to get. You couldn’t tell him you got distracted by his cute face. “I didn’t want to move and wake you.”
“I don’t wake that easily,” he states, proudly even. You almost tell him how well everyone knows he can sleep through a typhoon, but it’s drowned underneath the softness of his smile. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”
The look he gives you is so tender, like looking at a fond memory. It brings back the fluttering knots in your stomach from before as you imagine what could be the true reason behind that gaze. What could he possibly be thinking in his waking moments that would make him dream about you?
“Xavier, do you know you talk in your sleep?” The confused and panicked, deer caught in headlights expression, he gives causes you to fidget with your fingers and drop your gaze to your lap where they lay.
His face tinges slightly. “Nothing too embarrassing I hope.”
You bite your bottom lip as his face reddens. He looks so sweetly shy for once, and you’re starting to question if you’re overreacting by confronting him about something as silly as a dream, one that probably didn’t mean much.
“You tried to order food in your sleep!” you tell him with a small laugh, and his shyness melts away.
“I did? What did I get?”
“Red sauce. Extra Spicy.”
“Then, I guess that’s what I’ll get for dinner tonight,” he remarks. He doesn’t laugh but you can see the amusement reflected in blue eyes, which makes you return his happiness. Yet, the calm moment is short-lived as your mind becomes overwhelmed again by questions you were too nervous to ask; and a small piece of you, too afraid to know the answer.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, drawing you out of your rampant, clashing thoughts. “You look sick.”
“I do?”
He nods, his expression softening.
”Are you still thinking about everything?" he pauses, his worry becoming more visible as he looks at you. "It must be difficult.” Your head blanks at his words. You weren’t aware Xavier gave you enough attention to notice your mood was different. You thought you did okay coming to terms with everything at least while at work to where he wouldn’t notice. 
“It’s been a pretty rough week, weeks, actually. I haven’t been sleeping well either,” you agree, struggling to keep your mind anywhere else but there. You’re sure you must look exhausted though. Your under eyes have been darker, the days you could convince Jenna you didn’t need any more leave a bit sluggish, and even Zayne warned you not to lose yourself in grief. It’s easier said than done.
What you don’t expect is for Xavier to grab your wrist and pull you closer.
Xavier normally isn’t the one to draw you, or others for that matter, to him. You’re the one who's been taking the steps to get to know more about him. Offering to help him get his plushie, bargaining with him into becoming your partner, asking him to watch movies with you, while he always seems to keep you a little at arms length, not opening up as much as you wish when sharing stories even when sometimes he looks like he desperately wants to before deciding against it.
Your eyes widen when your nose hits the side of his chest. It's strange to have him be the one pulling, failing to keep his boundaries and also testing them. You don’t want to push him away though. You liked this. Maybe because he was handsome. You hear pretty people can get away with anything, but it feels like more than that. Tara might have been right. Maybe you do have a crush on him but you didn’t care the reason right now when it’s so comforting. You can feel his muscles underneath the thick, warm fabric of his hoodie, and the clothing smells so nice. You can’t help thinking he definitely feels like a bunny too.
“Sleeping is much better with someone.” 
“How do you know?” you mumble against him.
“Well, I just had the best sleep I’ve had in days thanks to you. So, allow me to return the favor. I’ll be your pillow this time,” he offers; and surprisingly, your eyes do feel oddly heavy when his soothing voice reaches you. “Relax. I promise not to move for at least two hours, but you can take more if you like.”
”How kind,” you say with a smile, and it feels genuine.
Once again, you get the same familiar sensation from before, that same odd suspicion this has happened once before—or rather it’s supposed to happen? You’re too tired to think about it. You close your eyes to the most blissful dreams you’ve had in weeks.
When you wake up again, it’s not by choice. Xavier is looking down at you, his arm gently wrapped around your shoulders as your head lays on his chest. Your mind is still trapped halfway between being awake and asleep when he begins to talk.
“Welcome back. Did you sleep well?”
You nod. “Real well actually."
Xavier says something else but your tired mind misses the majority of it aside from the fact it’s getting late.
“You can spend the night if you want,” you tell him, allowing sleep to win back over as you try to close your eyes again, but he lifts you away from him, your head swaying with the motion until you find a place to prop your forehead on his shoulder. Your mind echoes with the thought of how soft his hoodie is and how you need one like it as you try to drift back off. Xavier is right. Sleeping with someone else is better, and this closeness you’ve been missing since you lost your family makes you needy. 
“It probably wouldn’t be appropriate.”
For some reason, it hurts to think he's back to pushing you away. Even though, it shouldn't.
“But you didn’t get a chance to watch the movie,” you reply, looking for an excuse for him not to leave. “It’s a 48-hour rental, so we can try again.”
Xavier shakes his head, gently poking at your forehead to force your head back. “I’m sure it’ll be twice as boring for you the second time.”
“If we watch it together…”
He meets your foggy gaze apologetically. “I don’t think we’d get very far.” 
“We won’t know until we try,” you argue drowsily. 
“You don’t look like you’d make it another ten minutes. You belong in bed.”
“I can,” you whimper as the too-bright lights of the overhead fan hit you. 
“Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result,” he murmurs softly, almost teasingly until his tone takes on a seriousness you’re too lethargic to grasp, “Isn’t that insanity?”
“I like to call it determination. Who knows? Maybe this will be the time it works,” you joke. Instead of the smile you expected the look on his face is pensive and a little sad, like you touched a delicate spot. The sudden remorse wakes you up almost immediately. “Xavier?”
When he realizes you’re watching him, the longing in his gaze melts into something you can’t describe, other than the fact it makes your heart climb in your throat. 
“Alright,” he agrees, much to your surprise and relief. “Let’s try again…but tomorrow.”
Frowning, you avert your gaze, which makes him pet your head. 
“Don’t pout. Tonight, I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.”
“Thank you,” you whisper, moving back to rest your head against his chest.
Maybe your grandma wouldn’t have liked you getting so close to a man you didn’t know much about so quickly. Caleb would at least have a few questions, but your intuition tells you that you’re making the right choice when his arm goes back around you. As you start to drift off, you can swear you hear Xavier laughing at you under his breath. “You’re as impossible to say no to as always.”
You’re not entirely sure what time Xavier went back to his apartment that night, but the next morning you wake in your bed, looking forward to seeing him again. You only hope the sweet and confusing fact that you’re in love with him, of the parts he shows you when you’re alone, stays in your dreams the next night and the many nights following that you share with him.
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Over the months, as your relationship with Xavier grows stronger, you find it common to share many things with each other. You play online games, house sit for one another, grow strawberries, and usually go home together after your deepspace trials. Most interestingly, you two take naps together on your days off sometimes, nothing sexual about it despite what Tara and her Tarot cards believe. Sure, there might have been questionable situations, but it was all innocent in the end. It's often a short nap in the afternoon after running errands or having lunch together. It's one of those days that you finally build the courage to bring up what's been on your mind for a while now. 
It's late when it happens.
The skyscraper lights begin to glow through your balcony door, blinking out the gentle shimmering of distant stars that managed to cut through the trickling rain earlier in the evening. It’s a little disappointing to lose sight of the stars. They’d become a comfort for you in the time you’ve spent with your friend. You'd never given them much thought before then.
The downpour of rain splattering against the glass panels of the balcony makes the city lights milkier to your sight and the steady dripping of water returns some form of calmness when paired with your neighbor’s breathing next to you.
It’s deep and warm, ushering you towards the world of dreams. Everything about Xavier is like a white noise or a desperately needed hug, which is why you’re curled up at his side in this bed that’s too small for the both of you. You didn’t care, and you suspected Xavier didn’t either.
He didn’t mention the smallness of the bed when you offered to take a nap together nor when your head found the bulge of his bicep to use as your pillow. You didn’t give him time to respond when one of your hands slid across his lean chest, reaching for his always subtle pulse. You find the lazy pattering easy to count while the heat in the sheets become much more apparent when you feel the weight of his touch cradle that very same hand to his chest as if promising every beat to you.
Everything about the situation causes your eyes to flutter with tiredness, but you want to savor this moment a little longer. In case this is all an elaborate dream. You hope to death it’s not. So, you force your eyes to remain open, releasing a soft sigh instead as you cuddle into his arm.
Too soon, you feel Xavier slipping further away from you.
You don’t want him to go yet. More than ever, a force inside you needs him to stay tonight, and you lock your grip on the white knit shirt he wears. You tug him back over to you to close this unbearable distance he made. The few little inches he moved were more than enough to cause your heart to yearn.
“Not yet,” you want to plead but make it a soft demand. “I just found the perfect spot.” You muffle the neediness of your requests into his skin, though your head is afraid that somehow he’ll feel it.
“You always use that excuse.”
“And it’s always true. So, no moving,” you order.
Xavier gives in so wonderfully quickly. Your heart is rapidly firing when the corners of his lips turn into his usual waif-like smile. You fail at hiding your satisfaction at his surrender, pressing more of your weight against him, in a sure sign to him that you have no intention of letting him escape any time soon.
“I take this to mean you’re finally admitting it’s your fault we didn’t do our errands today?”
“I never said that,” you disagree half-heartedly. “And don't pretend like you weren't the one who kept saying he didn't feel like getting up earlier.”
“And now that I do, you won’t let me up. Am I right? Why’s that?”
There’s a beat skipping in your chest when he asks. His tone is light and open, easy to treat as a teasing joke but also firm enough to be taken seriously. That was always your trouble with him. You could never quite tell what he was thinking and when he was serious. Xavier is hard to understand sometimes, sometimes vague and sometimes very straightforward in his words; and lately, you think he’s consistently more hot than cold towards you ever since the first time you've slept together.
You like to think this development is a good thing. People who knew you always said you worked a little too hard, a little too observant, overly energetic despite your fragile heart; but with Xavier, you could relax. Moments like these: when his arm was around you and when his breath was at the side of your neck, the soft words he speaks in his sleep dancing in your mind, were the moments when patrolling for wanderers and every loss in your life from your family to your problematic heart dissipated into the back of your mind for a few hours.
It isn’t an exaggeration to believe his influence must have been the cause, at least when it comes to this. But your influence is seeping into him as well. Given his loner habits when you first met and his frequent disappearing acts, you never pictured him as one to be so sweet and considerate and adorably charming in a way.
However, you can’t tell him that you enjoy…sleeping with him. You have a strong feeling he already knows how much you like him. Or, you’d like to think he does with the way he constantly seems to hint at it. He can make you flustered with a few words and easily leave you guessing if you’re reading too much into his actions or if he’s really that good at baiting you. It could also be a little of column A and a little of column B, which somehow makes you more antsy around him. Like how you feel now when his eyes meet yours.
“It’s supposed to be cold tonight,” you whisper. It’s a poor excuse but the only one you can use to defend yourself. “They say the best way to fend off the chill is body heat. Who better for that task than you, dear partner?”
“Many things, I assume, a portable heater comes to mind,” he says, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s slyly teasing you behind that naive tone.
“Right, right, those things,” you grumble causing him to laugh as you hide your bashful face against him. “So loud, you know?”
“Are they? Alright, then five more minutes should be doable,” he says in the same low voice that makes your insides boil before his arm lowers to curl around your back. “Although, you’re too comfortable.”
His ears tinge in a lovely rose-colored blush, and you shudder when he finally fails to maintain eye contact and quickly scans your body. It’s slow enough for you to catch though. It makes your chest tight as you watch his quiet inhale and the murky flash of want dye his eyes shades darker before they fade back into clear pools of blue, big and pleading as he studies your face. 
“I might end up falling asleep here.”
It’s a warning, to make you think about the meaning of your actions, you think. However, this isn’t the first time this has happened nor the first time you spent a rainy day inside with each other; the kitchen counter lined with empty take-out trays, with his body heat radiating into you while a long-forgotten movie plays in the background.
It’ll continue like that until one of you is finally coherent enough after drowsy naps to try to piece together who fell asleep on whom first or who is making the other too hot. Neither of you wants to accept the fault without a lot of bickering; that’s if Xavier doesn’t fall back asleep mid-debate.
Even this time, you’re not sure who managed to drift off to sleep first earlier but neither of you tried to get up, let alone leave the house, until now. Ah, but it was your idea to use the bed this time, wasn’t it?
But it was his choice to agree.
Even now, he looks very peaceful nestled with you, and he still whispers your name in his sleep sometimes, which reminds you of the first time you slept together and he dreamt about wanting you to come home with him.
When you’re like this, you want the same thing. You want him to come home…with you.
“Xavier?” you ask quietly. You wonder if he’s fallen asleep already like he said. Carefully, you free your hand from his hold, slide it up his chest, and begin to draw smooth circles with your pointer finger once you reach his cheek. There’s a soft response from him, barely a moan but it’s enough to know he’s not out of it yet, at least not completely. “I’ve been thinking.”
The air is suddenly stifling when he engulfs the top of your hand with his own, holding it tighter as if he’s upset that you moved it out of his grasp in the first place, but it’s not the case as he affectionately seals your palm against his cheek.
“About what?”
The look he gives you makes it hard not to stumble over your thoughts like a schoolgirl despite being very much an adult.
“Wouldn’t…” You pause to steady your voice; you have to force yourself to not avoid his gaze, but each small movement makes your throat tighten. There’s no doubt you have his full attention now, at least what little remains of it. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we…move in together?”
You’re not sure where the courage to ask him a question like that comes from when you’re too unsure to even confess or to ask what the two of you even are but you didn’t have this fear of rejection until now.
“How would it be easier?”
“Well,” you start, unsure why you’re surprised that he’d want a reason. “We’re always visiting one another, and you made me your representative at the tenant meetings, so everyone already treats us like we’re a combined unit. It would also save me trips on watering your plants when you’re away or when you want to come over to eat. We could save money. Money that could be spent at the arcade or on more hot pot.”
There’s a quiet atmosphere that makes you too uneasy. The thrumming of rain grows louder in it along with the beating in your chest that’s telling you that this was stupid. Is it possible to be drunk on endorphins? Perhaps that’s what gave you the idea to ask something so foolish; you’d have to get Zayne to examine your empty head and tell you.
But then, Xavier smiles.
“Those are good reasons especially more hot pot, and I’m sure all the plushies would feel better if they shared a home again.”
Your anxiety lessens and you share in his smile. Luckily, you managed not to ruin everything it looks like.
“But.” Slowly, the inklings of self-doubt begin to return. A but. There’s always one of those. You should’ve expected as much. “If we move in together then we wouldn’t really be “neighbors” anymore.”
“Oh, um—” You become staggered by his observation, even more so when he interlocks your fingers. It’s another time when you’re not entirely sure if he’s being serious or not. His innocent puppy-eyed expression doesn’t help you differentiate either. It always makes your mind wander to more inappropriate topics—like the fact Xavier told you he didn’t believe that other neighbors acted like you two. The memory nearly makes you squirm. In this position, you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt. “We’d be roommates, much better than neighbors,” you manage to explain, proud when you hold firm, but that delicate foundation cracks when his laugh highlights the room. You could nearly melt.
“Do roommates sleep together too?”
There’s a shine of amusement that makes his face glow and heat claw higher up your neck. You know the question should be taken literally but when he words it like that…with that warm implicative inflection to his voice, you’re unable to think properly, and you realize that maybe you made a mistake. Maybe you shouldn’t have given him the benefit of the doubt this time.
“I’m sure some do,” you answer with some courage, “I’d imagine at least once a week.”
“I believe we’re up to twice a week now. So, if we become roommates, I think we have to do it at least that many times, otherwise I’m afraid I’m going to have to reject your offer.”
“Two times?” you repeat, silently begging the flapping of butterflies in your stomach to calm down at the suggestion, at the implication that he enjoys sleeping with you just as much as you do with him. It makes this strong emotion in your chest blossom even further. “I can manage that.”
“Additional proposal,” he interrupts suddenly. “Perhaps, three times? I can even throw in a pair of those fuzzy socks that I can never manage to find after you visit,” he adds coyly.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re around your apartment somewhere,” you quickly respond before releasing the buildup of nervous air in your lungs. You smile. “Proposal accepted. Shared naps three times a week minimum.”
“In that case,” he breathes in softly, and he slips his hand down releasing all your fingers except for your pinky that he wraps into his own. “I think I would like to be your roommate.”
Inside, there’s unadulterated joy beginning to flood you. You know that this agreement will require a more in-depth discussion that Xavier will probably try to gloss over but this is enough for you right now.
“We should take tonight to practice for our move.”
Confused, you raise your eyebrows. “Practice?”
He nods.
“Sleeping together overnight. We did a few times before, well, only twice in the same bed, once in yours and once in mine,” he explains. You definitely have the clearest memory of that time, of bandaging his wounds, of cluelessly pinning him down shirtless on his bed before he turned the tables on you, and then—you remind yourself to resist going over the details, not with him this close to you. Somehow, Xavier is the one who looks the most insecure between the two of you. Finally, he whispers, “I haven’t forgotten even if it was a long time ago.”
His eyes are half-lidded, cloudy with thought. Something about him looks restrained and longing but it disappears when you finally swallow your swelling emotions and call out his name. There’s a twinkle of adoration that blows away whatever doubt there as he focuses on you again.
“I think about it when I have a hard time sleeping on overnight missions.” Xavier turns and slides his arm from under your head, choosing to lay on his side to face you. “It makes it a lot easier to rest in the hunting zones when you have good memories like that. So, it's nice to have a chance to make more."
“I don’t think I could fall asleep at all if I thought of something like that,” you admit, as close to an admission of your love for him as you could muster without mountains of alcohol. “I’d just think about how much I’d rather be home with them.”
“And now? Are you having trouble sleeping?” he asks huskily, and you have to fight not to keep staring at his lips and the dire need to kiss them as you breathe each other in. You reach out, touching his bare collar then instinctively searching for his slow pulse, counting it to calm yourself from the rush of adrenaline building in you.
You’re not even sure when you breathed out the “yes” that echoes softly from your mouth. His lips are so close to yours that you’re sure he could catch it in his breath if he wanted.
“How about I tell you a story to help you fall asleep?” He sees your hesitation and laughs under his breath. “I promise it’ll be much better than the last one.”
Accepting his offer, you agree to listen to him.
Xavier nods and gently swoops the back of his hand against your forehead and then your cheek before cupping it. There’s a gentle squeeze, and you think you understand why he likes it so much when you do it.
“Once, there was a beautiful queen and a knight,” he begins. “They lived together in a palace far away.”
“And they fall in love and live happily ever after?” you question, too busy in the full and fuzzy sensations filling your being to hold back.
“No, they were separated from each other for a long time,” Xavier corrects but his expression softens at the trickling concern building on your face. “Don’t worry. They meet again and become neighbors.”
“And then?”
“They become roommates,” he states matter-of-factly, which causes you to chuckle at him. You can’t even be bothered to care that he’s poking fun at you.
“Then, happily ever after?”
“I don’t know yet,” he answers, causing you to frown and your face to wrinkle with a sullen expression. His head tilts further into the plush of the pillow. “But you can help me figure out the ending.”
Feeling exhausted from the cathartic flow of emotions from him to you, you wiggle into him and throw your arm across his waist. “There’d probably be a lot of naps and stargazing involved,” you mumble before a tiny yawn.
“Sounds like a happy ending to me. It's good to finally see it,” he agrees, and you sigh when you feel a strong squeeze around your waist. “Although, you forgot to mention the part where the queen promises to not get out of bed without waking him this time.”
You giggle. “She promises not to get up without her knight.”
Content, he hums. "Do you think you'll be able to sleep now?"
"I think so after a story like that," you confess, reaching out to brush his hair back so you can see his eyes more clearly. "Then again, I always sleep good with you."
"You’ll sleep best when we're close, right?"
You gasp when he shifts on top of you. His lips briefly brush your forehead, by accident or not, you can’t tell as he pins you between himself and the bed. With a stutter, you call out his name yet he pays no heed as he nuzzles his head into your hair.
“Good night, roommate.”
“Xav-!” You pout when he instantly slumps against you. There’s no point trying to wake him up now that his five minutes of alertness have long expired.
Settling your chin against the top of his shoulder, you hook your arms under his to hug him against your chest. Your forearms settle at his mid-back as you hold him close so you can gently brush the ends of his hair.
When you ultimately decide to give in minutes after him, it’s to the warmth of his weight on top of you, the tickle of his hair against your forehead, and the increased pulsing of his heart. Xavier was right, this is too comfortable. Letting your eyes fall close, you wonder if three times a week would really be enough to satisfy this strangely familiar craving. You only wish that the two of you could meet in your dreams like he says, but it's enough knowing you'll have each other in the morning and then on.
“…Good night, Xavier. Sweet dreams,” you whisper before you too give into sleep’s spell.
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chatterbox-73 · 1 month
Text
Smut book 2024.
After hours.
Tenya Iida x fem!Reader.
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This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.
You must be 18 years or older to read this...
🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞
A/N: this is a request and I honestly love it… I’m a total sucker for Iida… I hope I did it justice.😅
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@123344myah
Also I’ve changed the name of a certain phone app because firstly I kinda don’t think they’d have SC in the mha universe, secondly don’t think I should be using TM names and finally why the heck not…😁 Pictalk = SC. (I know real creative..😂)
Pictures is edited be me… it’s been sitting in my gallery for some time, waiting for the right chance to be used. (Original unedited manga panel from ‘tada no renai nanka de kikkonai’)
Summary: you sneak into Iida’s dorm room for some after hours funny and getting caught is the last thing on your mind.
Word count: 4.1k
CW: NSFW and adult content, oral (f!Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, rough sex, missionary and doggy, teasing, pet names, pleasure dom!Iida, spanking, slight degradation and swearing. (All characters are aged up)
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You sat at the small floor table in the middle of your boyfriend’s dorm room, you watched intently as the man sitting across from you wrote large and seemingly unending paragraphs, while your own workbook remanded bare. The man looked up from his page to you with a curious look, “is something the matter?” He asked looking down at your book noticing it’s emptiness, while focused on your book you leant over and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips, “I just need to do that, I couldn’t focus until I got a taste” you smiled and licked your lips, the man looked at you with shock before sitting back and resting on his palm, “you know I’ll need payback now” Iida spoke as he look at you lips that had your lipstick smeared over them.
Tenya iida was such a reliable and caring boyfriend, he always took such good care of you and expected nothing in return, however he has always been quite prideful and this has resulted in him frequently trying to get even, it doesn’t matter how small the incident, he’s incredibly petty but you honestly love it about him, though you probably wouldn’t say it. Tenya often gets quite embarrassed by affection and will almost always shy away from it, but in small moments the man will soothe and comfort you.
You’re broken from your thoughts as you feel Iida’s callus thumb rub over your bottom lip, he wiped away the smudged lipstick before holding your chin and leaning in, however just before your lips had a chance to touch Iida’s dorm room door open suddenly, you both jumped away from each other and looked to the door, “now I’m certain there’s a ‘open door’ rule for when you’re studying with girls…” aizawa sighed as he looked at Iida with a tired expression. “Yes, I now remember that rule being mentioned, once or twice” Iida looked to you and all you could do was snicker, “yep, sounds about right” you cough out as you begin gathering your books and stationary from the table, you stood and quickly left the room with all your belongings, as you exited the room you heard Aizawa tell Iida it was lights out, before you could run off however the teacher stopped you, “straight to your dorm room… and no coming back here, study is over it’s lights out” he closed Iida’s door and turned to look at you, you nod “I haven’t had a chance to bathe, can I do that before I go to sleep?” You asked and the man sighs, it didn’t take a fortune teller to guess what you’d try and do, but Aizawa figured he should give you the benefit of the doubt, he should trust you, “fine… you can bathe, but no funny business… not tonight” he huffed and walked away muttering something about an argument between Midoriya and Bakugo.
You got back into your dorm room and packed away all your books and stationary before grabbing your bath bag, night clothes and towel, before making the trip to the bathroom. Getting into the bathroom you pulled out your phone and placed it on the side of the bathtub while you turned on the water waiting for the tub to fill, as you waited you undressed and began scrubbing your body at one of the washing stations, as you finished the bath water was full and you settled in.
You leaned your head back with your eyes closed for quite sometime before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it, watching random videos before a Pictalk notification popped in the top corner of your screen, clicking it a picture of a dark room with the caption that read
‘how much trouble did you get in?’
You smiled and snapped a picture of the steamy bathroom mirror and captioned it with.
‘None really… just a “don’t come back here, study is over >:(“‘
You chuckled and pulled yourself out of the water, sitting on the edge of the tub still allowing your legs to soak, another notification popped up and you clicked into it. It was of Iida’s neatly made bed.
‘Haha… you’re only bathing now?’
You smiled and shook your head, before taking a picture of your bare legs resting in the water.
‘Yeah, someone kept me busy with studying’
You watched the speech bubble in the messages pop up before disappearing and reappearing several times before finally you received a picture response, this picture was of Iida pulling a playful frown.
‘Are you trying to start something?’
You laughed at his expression before stepping out of the bath and emptying the water, as the bath drained you walked over to the mirror and wiped away a little of the steam, only leaving enough to cover below your hips, you stood in front of the mirror and covered a hand over your breasts before smiling and taking a picture, you send the picture with the caption.
‘start something? But I’m a good girl’
You waited patiently for Iida’s response while you dried yourself, then came in the next picture, Iida had also sent a picture of him standing in his mirror shirtless and one hand resting over his clothes crotch. The picture was captioned.
‘You’re testing my patience baby’
You smiled and wondered how far you could take this before one of you got impatient, though the way things are going anyone else would think Iida was moments away from giving in but that just wasn’t the case and the both of you knew it, you wipe down the rest of the mirror before sitting back on the ground and open your legs, you rubbed two fingers over your entrance before sliding them in, you took a picture of yourself through the mirror, with your best ‘O’ face and the caption.
‘So warm and wet…’
You waited and as you did your fingers worked in and out of you before moving to rubbed your clit, moaning you almost didn’t hear your phone chime, opening the picture you blushed and chuckled as you saw Iida’s long and thick member on the screen, he only have two fingers wrapped around the base, this time no caption was with the picture. However a voice note was sent moments later.
“I bet that pussy is nice and ready, you always are”
You heard the chuckle and groan in his voice and you knew exactly what he was doing while sending that voice note, you sent back a voice note.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”
Iida knew exactly what you were asking but instead all you got back was nothing, no voice note, no picture, not even a message, you scrambled to get dressed in your night clothes and grabbed your belongings. You walk down to the laundry room and put your clothes and towel in the washing machine, and left your bath bag next to the machine you were using, after this you wasted no time going to Iida’s dorm room.
You opened the door and walked in, the room was dark and as you looked towards Iida’s bed you noticed he was laying back with his blanket over him, he was fully dress in his goofy pyjamas, he looked as though he wasn’t just sending you dirty messages, “Tenya… Tenya you need to be awake” you whispered and walked over to him, you knew he wasn’t asleep, you had seen him sleep plenty of times so you knew he was awake, “Tenya sit up and take care of me” you whined as you grabbed at his pyjama top, the man chuckled as he sat up and looked down at you, “you’re such a greedy girl… we were told lights out and yet you’re here because of a picture” Iida sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess it can’t be helped… strip for me please” he smiled and you stood and moved to take off your shirt before stopping and looking to your boyfriend, “what about you?” You asked and Iida frowned “I said strip” he snapped and you quickly began removing your shirt, Iida nodded and looked at your breasts before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he motioned for you to step closer to him, so he could grab your arms and pressed them into your sides, your face became flushed as Iida trailed his tongue up your stomach to your sternum, he stopped and placed a kiss on your skin before moving to lick over your right nipping, you whined and pressed your legs together, before the man moved onto your other nipping this time suckling on it, “you’re sucking it like a baby” you breathlessly chuckled, Iida looked up at you with a hard stare before biting roughly on the side of your breast, you yelped and your boyfriend pulled you down slightly to capture your lips in an open mouth kiss, you gasped and cried out in surprise as Iida tongue took control over your mouth, the way he’s slurp and wriggle his tongue reminded you of all the times he’d eat you out.
Pulling away from you and loosing his grip, allowing his hand to slide down your arms and rest on your hips before he slowly pulled down your pants, leaving you in nothing but the pink girlish panties you’d normally never let Tenya see. “Aww how cute” he laughed as he kissed just above your waistband, “it’s not funny, I didn’t think when I grabbed them” you whined and felt Iida move you onto his bed to lay down on your back, “I think they’re cute… they’re so innocent and sweet” he smiled as he leaned in and whispered in your ear “reminds me of our first time… you were such a good girl, so patient” his voice was hushed and relaxed as he slowly pulled your panties to the side before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss over your entrance, “how badly do you want it greedy girl?” Iida asked, his hot breath brushing over your cunt, you whined and wiggled your hips “so badly… I need it” you moaned softly, trying to keep your voice down.
You cried out as you felt your boyfriend’s tongue lick slow strips up the length of your cunt, “more… Tenya, I need more…” you whimpered encouraging your boyfriend, Iida was a beast the way he’d devour you, you were certain given the chance Iida would eat you anywhere and anytime, he’d always put his all into eating you, he’d lick; suck and slurp, Iida was a shameless man when it came to having you on his tongue, he’d say the most vile and lewd things you’d ever heard from him, it was honestly pornography the things he’d come out with; and this time was no different.
“You taste like heaven… if men knew just how sweet you tasted, they’d be on their knees praying to you” he groaned as he licked between your folds, before wriggling his tongue inside you, “I’d lick your cunt raw if only you’d let me… I’d eat you every minute of the day and only take breaks to fuck you” he moaned into you before kissing up to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and suckling on it for dear life, you cried out loudly completely foregetting where you were, “tenya I’m… I’m…” you arched you back and wrapped your legs around Iida’s head as you grabbed roughly at his neatly groomed hair, “…oh god… yes tenya… yes…” you whimpered as your body seized up and you began coming undone on your boyfriend’s mouth, he groaned and moved back your entrance, sliding his tongue back into you as his fingers began rubbing quickly over your clit, “holy fuck… ten… oh tenya” you gasped as you started to and push Iida away, however he only continued. You took a sharp breath in, then took another and another, before suddenly losing the ability to breath, it took Iida only a few seconds to realise what was happening behind he moved up to you and brushed your hair from your face, “breath baby, breath out” he encouraged as his thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, you breathed out quickly before sucking in a deep breath, while Iida continued encouraging you.
Once fully calm your boyfriend chuckled and settled himself between your legs, “that was scary… you wanna continue?” He asked as he leant back down ready to pick up where he left off, “I wanna… but not like that… I wanna have you inside me” you hummed as you pulled off your underwear and opened your legs as wide as you could, “I want it all inside, to the base Tenya” you used your fingers to spread your folds apart as your laid back and waited for your boyfriend. Iida watched your cunt intensely as it squeezed around nothing, before he pulled off his shirt and pulled his throbbing cock from his pants, shifting the fabric down only enough for him to hang comfortably, the man pumped himself slowly and reached into his bedside table for a condom before rolling down his shaft and spitting on himself rubbing his saliva over his shaft, he than leant down and spat a large ball of saliva over your entrance, “hmmm… nice and wet… you’ll take it all in one now” he hummed as he prodded at your hole with his tip, pushing his saliva in and out, getting his tip wet.
Iida watched your cunt grip him tightly as he began to slowly slide in, once his cock was fully hilted inside you, you both moaned and Iida pressed his forehead against yours, “god fucking damn it… it feels good” he huffed out a string of cusses and rubbed your hips with his thumb as he waited for you to encourage him to move.
Iida had always been a giver, though he disguised it as petty payback… which it partly was… however with that being said Iida was always safe, he never acted reckless or overdid it, though this time was different.
Your hands grabbed Iida’s thick biceps as he gave you long and hard thrusts that caused the bed to thump into the wall, “Christ… you’re perfect” he moaned and grabbed a hold of your legs, he looked down at where the two of you met and smiled, watching the way your walls and opening clung to him so tightly, creating a delicious drag however because of this it was almost too hard for him to set an even pace, “please… more… I need it harder” you moaned as you dug your nails into he’s shoulders, Iida chuckled and began a strong pace. The man groaned and moaned as he held you down while he pushed into you a little bit harder and faster with every thrust, he’d moaned out obscenities while you simply took in the view, you’d finished several times already on his cock and looking down you could see a white ring form around the base of Iida’s cock, “Tenya… Tenya wait” you whine and place a hand on his chest to push him back, “what’s the matter? Is it starting to hurt? Should we stop?” He asked as he pulled out and grabbed the side of your cheek, you shook your head and leaned up “I’m fine, but I know you’ve been holding out for so long… so I want you to enjoy yourself a little” you hummed as you turn over and push your ass up into the air while pressing your face and chest into Iida’s mattress. Iida moved in and began looking over your wet folds, he rubbed his thumb over your cunt before using it to open you up for himself, “baby I’m always happy just giving you whatever you need, but this…” he groaned as he rubbed his tip over your clit, “you really want me to take what I need?” He questioned and you moaned, nodding your head and looking back at him, “I’m beyond satisfied, now I need to feel you cum” you whined as you reached back and grabbed a hold of the condom cover your boyfriend, before you began pulling it off him, the man moaned only to then quickly thrust into you once you pulled the condom completely off and discarded it on the floor, you grasped as Iida set into a brutal pace faster and harder then before, roughly holding your hips to stop your for jolting forward into the headboard, he’d roll his hips every so often and tried to get as deep as your body would allow him.
“I’m gonna cum so deep in you… I’m gonna use you up so no one else will want you” iida moaned as he threw his head back and grabbed at your ass cheeks, harshly smacking them every so often, “you dirty whore… you want that, don’t you?” Another harsh smack followed this and you responded with nothing but a whine. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, all that comes out of you is a jumble of words followed by moaning and whining, you were enjoying this, enjoying this more than maybe you should’ve been, “you’re squeezing so tightly…” Iida hummed as he further picked up his pace, he let out a laugh as he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his thrusts, you could feel him twitching and pulsing with each thrust, “you sure you want it inside… cause if you don’t… I… I won’t” he moaned grinding his hips into you, “yes… god yes… inside please… Tenya please!” You cried loud before quickly having your face shoved into Iida’s pillows, “baby I love hearing your voice but shut the fuck up” he groaned as he held your head in place, while continuing his vicious assault on your cunt. Iida’s breaths become uneven and he lets go of your head and move his hand back to your ass, he grabbed at the flesh and watched as he began long quick, yet uneven thrusts. “Fuck baby, fuck…” he huffed as his hip’s faulted and snapped in towards you, you felt him shutter, soon an indescribable warmth filled your belly, your legs shook and your cunt squeezed uncontrollably, causing Iida to pulled out and begin fingering you, working you through your final orgasm of the night. “Shit… shit baby…” Iida sighed as he sat back on his bed, you crawled over to him weakly and climbed into his lap, “we fucked up… I shouldn’t have let you take it off… I should’ve kept the condom on” he huffed as he rested his head back against the wall, “it’s okay, I’m on the pill” you smiled however Iida did not return that smile, “it doesn’t matter… it was still so reckless of me… to allow you to seduce me into such dangerous play…” he hummed and hugged into you and pressed his face into your neck, “you make me a truly weak man” he sighed and began kissing your neck, “let’s not risk doing it raw again, I’m not a strong enough man for that just yet” he moaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, here was the overly serious and proper boyfriend you fell head over heels in love with, “we could always go one more round, I don’t feel full enough yet” you joked and felt Iida bite your neck before sitting up and frowning at you, “okay, I’ll stop… though it was nice” you hum and quickly stand up, walking into the toilet in the room, “I need a washcloth tenya” you call and heard the man stand from the bed before walking into the toilet with a wet washcloth, “do you need help darling?” Iida passed you the cloth and you nodded as you took it, “yeah it’s pretty deep in, I can’t possibly reach it” you said with a wide smirk, Iida sighed and knelt down “alright I’ll help you”.
_
You sat in class as All Might finished up giving his feedback on today class, he finally ended his little lecture and dismissed the class but before anyone could stand and leave for the dormitory Aizawa stopped everyone as if he had been waiting outside the classroom door just for All Might to finish, “Bakugo, Midoriya, Iida and L/n, all of you are to stay back” he spoke before letting everybody else leave, All might gave Midoriya a nervous look before leaving himself. All four of you sat facing Aizawa as he sat down on the stool that had been moved into the classroom after he’d lost his leg, “now Bakugo and Midoriya, you both know fighting at school outside of training is prohibited and to fight in the dormitory is next level irresponsible, both of you will have two weeks of after class detention… now get out of my site” he grumbled and both boy stood, beginning to leave, however Midoriya stop near Iida and in a not so quiet whisper “I’ll wait for you out in the hallway” he smiled and Aizawa quickly piped in, “absolutely not… get back to the dormitory” he scolded and this made Midoriya scramble out the door, closing it behind him.
“Now you two, you know why I have you here… don’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms and looked between the both of you, Iida swallowed as you tried your hardest to keep a straight face. “I have some ideas” your eyes shifted to the side and you smiled nervously, “very funny L/n, but maybe next time you decide to give Iida a past curfew visit make sure I’ve actually finished my rounds…” his frown deepened and you could feel your face go red, “it was quite a surprise to be finished up then suddenly heard a woman’s cries though the boy’s half of the dormitory” Aizawa looked towards Iida and from the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend struggling to make eye contact with the teacher, “and then all the banging of what I presume was your bed frame… but hey maybe I’m wrong and you were decorating, and you were just cheering on all his hard work” Aizawa’s face still held a straightness despite his very obvious frustration, “look, you can’t be doing that kind of stuff so freely and openly, if the wrong person heard that or even if someone was able to get a picture or video of you two… because you know how driven some of your classmates are…” Aizawa sighed and uncrossed his arms “if something like that happened to get out to the media, it’d ruin your careers before they have a chance to actually begin…” Aizawa spoke so calmly it was unnerving, he then looked at you and continued on “L/n the public wouldn’t see you as some sweet little sister anymore, you’d be seen as some whore who seduced an honest and just man…” his expression softened and you looked down in shame before he moved onto Iida, “and Iida, the public would start saying your a weak willed man, if you’re lucky… or they’d treat you like a monster for defiling a precious young woman” he said and leant back in his chair with a sigh, Aizawa pinched is nose bridge “you both need to be more careful, I’m not saying you can’t do that you’re both adults and will be out of here in a few months, but you need to think about your image, so no doing that here and no going to love hotels, doing it at one of your homes where your privacy is respected… and you’ll be having two weeks of detention with Midoriya and Bakugo” he grumbled and stood ready to leave, “get out of here, now” he said as he pointed to the door, both you and Iida speedily left the room as you both exited you had Aizawa muttered under his breath questioning how he hadn’t gone grey yet.
“I think it was worth it…” you said walking along side Iida and after a moment of silence the man chuckled, “yeah it was, I’m disappointed in us… but it definitely was worth it” he added and shook his head in amusement, “worth it enough to do it again” you smiled and grabbed Iida’s hand, “its tempting, but no… I’m pissed about the idea of all those guys hearing you” he said and brought the back of your hand up to his lips kissing it before the both of you walked back to your dorm laughing about everything.
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onceuponastory · 1 year
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knights in leather jackets - biker!bucky x reader
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Plot: Stuck in a dead end job at an ice cream parlour, Y/N dreams of something new in her life, especially when a biker’s charity meet and ride comes to town. And then, she meets Bucky. Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: Y/N’s boss being an ass and a bully, verbal abuse and some violence and threats. Biker!Bucky is also very much a flirt in this, and likes using doll as his petname (yes, he’s a warning, hahaha). As always if I miss any triggers, let me know. Notes: This was inspired by a biker’s meet that happened near me, and also because I’ve always liked these kind of stories. This is not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Gazing out of the window, Y/N drifts into a dreamworld. A local biker group is holding their annual charity meet and ride in her city, meaning that the streets surrounding the ice cream parlour she works in are full of motorbikes, and that the sound of engines continues to fill the air. She’s already served a few of them so far tonight, but the crowd has died down. Thankfully for Y/N, it means she can stare out of the window to her heart’s content, watching and listening to all the bikers.
“Hey, earth to Y/N. I don’t pay you to stand around looking like an idiot.” Her boss snaps, pulling her out of her trance. “Oh, please tell me you’re not staring at them.” He huffs.
“And who exactly is ‘them’?” She asks warily. 
“Those stupid bikers.” 
“It’s for charity!” She exclaims. “And besides, they’ve been great for business! I already sold a bunch of ice cream to them.” 
“I don’t give a shit! Could be for world peace for all I care. I hate those things.” Honestly, Y/N wishes she could say that she was surprised by her boss’ reply. But she’s been working for this asshole for so long, and been screamed at by him so many times that she’s used to his awful attitude by this point. “They just make too much noise, and they’re bad news. I wouldn't allow them to be here if I had my way.”
“Thank fuck you’re not in charge, then.” She mutters, rolling her eyes. If she could, she would’ve left this shitty job months ago and never looked back. Unfortunately for her, bills need to be paid, and nobody else wants to hire her, so it looks like she’s going to be stuck here, with her shitty boss, for the rest of her life.
Another roar of an engine sounds from outside, and Y/N sighs. She’d love to be like the bikers, driving all over the country without a care in the world. The wind in her hair, free to do whatever and go wherever she wanted… that would be perfect.
“I’m going for a break.” Her boss snaps, walking out and slamming the door behind him. The sound reverberates throughout the room, sending a shockwave through her entire body. Clenching her fist, she tries to calm down.
God, she hates this fucking place.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
About half an hour later, Y/N is checking on something through the back when the chimes above the door sound, signalling the arrival of another customer. Before going back out, she takes a moment to brace herself. It could also mean her boss is back, ready to get mad at her for something else that isn’t her fault.
Thankfully for Y/N, when she goes back out to the front, the only person standing there is another biker. Dressed all in black, including the sunglasses perched on his head, he looks out of place against the bright colours of the ice cream parlour. Coupled with his extremely muscular physique and the biker patches on his jacket, he looks like the stereotypical bad boy in a movie, the one who comes in to lead the heroine astray and drive her to trouble. But she doesn’t care about that. She’s just happy that she has a moment of freedom from her boss constantly breathing down her neck. And besides, what's so bad about wanting a bad boy in your life? Especially when you live a life as shitty as hers.
“Hey sir, what can I get you?” The man looks up, brushing a few strands of his long brunette hair out of his face. Light blue eyes stare back at her.
“Hey there.” He grins. God, this man is gorgeous. He peers over the cabinet, staring at all the flavours. The light catches his eyes, and they sparkle even more. “It’s so hard to choose. There’s so many choices.” He murmurs. His voice is smooth like honey, and he hums to himself as he tries to decide.  “Nope, no clue. Can you recommend anything?” He stands up straighter, almost leaning over the counter towards her. Yet, Y/N doesn’t feel afraid of him coming closer. In fact, somehow she already feels comfortable around him. 
“Well, that depends. What kind of flavours do you like?”
The man chuckles, biting his lip slightly. “I do like something sweet.” He grins, pointedly glancing over her facial features. Y/N’s breath hitches in her throat, and she can already feel heat settling onto her cheeks. “But maybe with a little tartness.” He winks, and Y/N quickly bites her tongue before she can embarrass herself. “So what do you think…” His eyes move lower, towards her chest, landing on her name tag. “...Y/N?” He whispers. Y/N bites down even harder, quieting the moan that threatens to escape. This man just oozes charisma, and it’s clear he’s flirting with her. Although, after the shitty day she’s been having, he’s the welcome respite she needs. 
“Um. I think r-raspberry ripple would be a good choice then.” She stammers, her voice sounding more like a squeak than anything else. Already, she can feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment.
“There we go then. Lady’s choice.” Quickly, Y/N scoops him some, thrusting the cone into his hand at breakneck speeds. As she does, her hand brushes against the leather of his gloves. And the sensation almost sends her heart into overdrive. Thankfully, the man doesn’t seem to notice her frazzled state. Or if he does, at least he doesn’t mention it. “Thanks doll.” He roots around in the pockets of his clearly too tight (although not that Y/N is complaining) jeans, handing over a wad of cash.
“It’s only three-” Y/N begins, holding out the extra cash. However, the man shakes his head. 
“No, no. You keep it. Consider it a tip.” And a real, proper smile, her first that day, grows on Y/N’s lips.
“Thank you so much.” She expects the man to leave then, their chance meeting over. Instead, he stands there, watching her as he eats his cone. Meanwhile, Y/N tries to think of something, anything to say to get him to stay. 
“This is amazing.” He smiles. “You have great taste.”
“You’re welcome. But you know….” She begins, and the man raises a brow. “I don’t know your name and you know mine. I think it’s only fair that I get to know yours.” Nodding, the man chuckles.
“It’s Bucky.”
“Nice to meet you, Bucky. How’s the ride? I think it’s great what you’re doing, by the way. I’ve been here most of the day, but I saw and heard you all down there. Sounds amazing.” For a moment, she’s worried her gushing will turn him off. But in fact, he seems more than happy to discuss it with her. 
“Yeah, well, someone sends the call out, and we come to raise as much as we can. This time it’s for the local kid’s hospital.” He shrugs, showing there’s no question about his choice to help others. Y/N smiles. What was that she was saying about him being a bad boy? Seems like he’s anything but. “But you’re right. It’s great catching up with everyone, too.” Y/N holds out some more cash, and Bucky frowns. “I told you that’s your tip.”
“I know. But I wanna help too.” And then, Bucky smiles. A huge, warm, grateful smile. 
“Thank you. You’re an angel, you know that? At least… one that gives out amazing ice cream and helps others.” Y/N feels her stomach fluttering, and she giggles.
“Well, I’m happy to serve.”
But then, the happy peace is shattered. “Y/N!” Her boss shouts, banging the door open. Immediately, Y/N jumps. Noticing her sudden fear, Bucky frowns. 
“What the hell? Are you alright?” Her boss storms into the room, glaring at her. From the way he’s standing, his nostrils flaring, he looks like one of those cartoons with the faces that turn bright red whenever they get angry. If steam started coming out of his ears, Y/N wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.
“I told you to take out the fucking trash before I left, didn’t I?” He hisses.
“No, you didn’t. You just stormed out.” Y/N argues, willing herself not to get pissed off or cry in front of her cute customer.
“Don’t talk back to me. Need I remind you I pay your wages? I can easily take that away.”
“But-” she begins, already hearing her voice cracking.
“Hey, that’s enough. Don’t you ever threaten her like that again.” Bucky speaks up. His voice is immediately deeper, and more threatening. 
“And who the hell are you?” Her boss asks, looking him up and down. But like Y/N said, it’s obvious that Bucky is a biker. “Oh. Of course.” He scoffs. “Listen buddy, I don’t need someone like you to tell me what to do. This is between me and my employee, so it’s none of your business. Got it?”
“Oh, someone like me, huh?” Bucky chuckles. “The thing is, I don’t care what an asshole like you thinks about me. What I do care about is how you treat your lovely employee there.” Despite the fear coursing through her veins, Y/N registers her heart beating even quicker at Bucky’s words. “Now. Why don’t you say sorry, and I won’t be forced to bring my friends round to help me deal with you, hm?”
Next, everything happens in a blur. All Y/N sees is her boss raising his fist, and Bucky quickly grabbing his wrist before he can do anything. “Really shouldn’t have done that, buddy.” Bucky tuts.
“Fuck you.” Her boss hisses, only to scream when Bucky twists his arm even more. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Her boss whimpers. Bucky shakes his head.
“Not to me. Say sorry to Y/N.” He orders. Somehow, the threatening tone of Bucky’s voice is extremely attractive to her. Or that could just be because he’s doing it to protect her. When she said he was a bad boy, she couldn’t have been further from the truth. In a cheesy way, he’s more like a knight in a leather jacket. “Now.”
“I’m sorry…Y/N.” Her boss cries. Seeing the man who has bullied and threatened her for so long on his knees in tears is a pretty unbelievable sight. Yet, Y/N can’t help but giggle. She’s been wanting this bastard to get his comeuppance ever since she started working here, and she’s not missing a moment of it.
“Good boy. Now, fuck off and leave her alone. And if I ever hear that you’re treating her like shit again, I will bring my friends round, okay?” When her boss nods, Bucky lets go of his wrist, and he scurries out of the door without another word. As Bucky takes out his phone, dialling a number, Y/N lets out a breath she doesn’t realise she was holding. Her heart is still pounding in some weird mix of fear and love for the man who saved her. “Hey. We have a situation at the ice cream parlour.” Bucky speaks, pacing around the shop. “No, nothing like that. The boss was just being an asshole to his employee, so I made sure he knew to leave her alone or else. Asshole’s probably gonna go squealing to the police at some point though, so we should be prepared. …Okay, see you soon.”
When Bucky hangs up, he’s immediately back to the same, kind person he was when it was just them. “Are you alright? He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
“No, it just scared me. It’s nothing new, though.” She murmurs. Her words make Bucky’s jaw clench, and he sighs. 
“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Y/N doesn’t respond. Instead, she crosses over to him, pulling him into a tight grasp, not even caring about the consequences. He smells like gasoline and patchouli oil. The powerful aroma infiltrates her entire senses, sweet and intoxicating. Bucky wraps his arms around her, pulling her even closer. So close she can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and feel his heartbeat through his jacket.
“Thank you.” She gasps. “So much.”
“Of course, doll. It’s what we do.” Being in Bucky’s arms feels safe and right. He holds her until her heart rate calms down, matching with his. She never wants to let go.
But then, she remembers. Bikers from all over the country are at this charity meet.What if Bucky lives miles away, and she’ll never see him again?
“Bucky, what happens when you go? What if he comes back?” She asks, her voice quiet. Pulling apart from her, Bucky grabs a napkin, writing his number on it.
“I doubt he will come back, but if there’s any issues, you call me okay? I’ll be right over.” He picks up his helmet, heading towards the door.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“I’ve gotta go meet the others. Like I said, call me, okay?”
“Okay.” She nods, already missing him.
And then, he’s gone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll see more from these two very soon.
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daisyblog · 1 year
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YN in This Is Us
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Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is Louis's sister and Harry's girlfriend, and appears in clips in One Direction: This Is Us. Warning: mild swearing
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“Whether we're together or apart, we can both remove the masks and admit we regret it from the start” Louis and Niall both sing behind YN as they all walk through the backstage area.
YN continues walking beside Louis as they both head towards the stage area, Liam and Niall are a few steps in front of them talking about how good they're feeling now they’re standing in the 02 Arena. As YN walks between Louis and Helene, Louis swings his arm around his sisters shoulder as they continue to walk towards the stage. --- The next scene shows Harry in his white t-shirt and black shorts kicking a football to Louis, whilst Paul explains that it’s their first day of rehearsals and in the background, YN is sat with Niall and Louis's friend Oli watching her brother and boyfriend. Louis kicks the ball so hard that it flies between Paul and Will and almost hits them. “Heads Will”, Louis shouts as a warning. In the background of the scene, YN's voice can be heard “Lou..be careful will ya”, and the camera shows Harry chuckling at Louis's antics.
--- Louis is sitting on top of one of the tour black boxes in the hallway “I was never really a fan of boybands before One Direction..like I remember me sister YN always listening to some boy group..and it just wasn’t for me you know”. --- The boys are in the open space attempting to practice their choreography. Harry is skipping around topless displaying his tattoos and swinging his white t-shirt in the air, whilst Paul is trying to give them instructions. YN can be seen standing with Louis and Liam with her pinched fingers in front of her leaning forwards and back and laughing at each other and their ridiculous attempt at a dance move. In the corner of the screen, Harry is caught staring at YN with a slight smirk on his face…”YN you’re supposed to be helping me with these lot…not joining in” Paul playfully scolded. --- “I don’t know if any of you hav’ seen my first audition..but it was horrendous..I hope it doesn’t make any part of this movie” Louis states and the clip of Louis auditioning on The X Factor is shown. A clip from The X Factor is shown where Simon is telling the boys on the show who the final contents are and who is going through to the show. “I can see me mum and YN” Louis explains whilst waving his hand under his chin “and they're going yeah yeah yeah…and I'm like no..this clearly means no” Louis continues his hand movement. --- The boys were at New York City's Madison Square Garden getting ready to perform for the sold-out show. The boys were messing around on the stage, Louis and Liam were doing a dance together and the others running from one part to the other, whilst practising Last First Kiss.
Niall and Harry’s Mum’s were sitting in the back of a horse cart having a tour of the city, explaining how emotional they were about seeing their babies perform at Madison Square Garden in a few hours. Meanwhile, Niall is pushing Harry around the hallway in a large blue bin, and YN can be seen walking down the hallways with Liam after going to find him for Lou to style his hair. YN stops by the doorway that Niall is about to push the bin through..”What are you doin’?” YN asks the pair whilst giggling, Niall continues to chuckle and Harry begins to sing “I’m in the mood for dancing, romancing” the two bodyguards shake their head at the scene in front of them. --- “Even if one member of your family is in the audience..it adds to the nerves” Louis begins to explain whilst sitting in the chair beside Liam “All me family are gonna be ‘ere and I’m just nervous..you know” Liam adds to Louis's statement “For all our families to be together in this place and being here is..like amazing”. --- Jay was writing on the red telephone box “my baby first born Louis xx” as YN stood beside her in the merch shop. YN stood by the merch counter with her Mum and Karen, Liam’s Mum, whilst they explained to the girls behind that they wanted to buy a cardboard stand-up of their boys so that they can take it home and say goodnight to it when the boys are on tour. “Can I have a Louis one?” Johannah asked “YN..are you goin’ to get a Harry one?” Her Mum teased, as she and Karen laughed at YN's playful glare. Karen begins to get upset when talking about how she knew Liam would be big but never that big and how she misses him when he’s on tour. YN puts her arm around her to comfort her and says “Aww..Karen don’t cry”. --- “With The X Factor…Harry went to an audition..and never came home again” Robin, Harry’s Stepfather explained “You weren’t ready for that..were you?” he turned to ask Anne. “No..as a mother I should be taking him places..and showing him things and.. it..turned around for him to bring us here..it takes a bit of getting used to..it feels quite surreal” Anne spoke softly. Anne is then seen walking down the hallways of the venue and immediately pulls Harry into a big hug “I’ve missed you” she says into his hair and YN is seen just behind them smiling at the loving moment between Harry and his Mum. Anne then greets YN with a hug and kiss on the cheek “How are you my love?”.
--- Louis is sitting in the chair in front of YN reading the playlist for tonight’s show, whilst she blow-drys his hair “Are you stayin’ backstage or sitting with Mum tonight?” he asks his sister. “I’m goin’ to sit with Mum and Anne” YN replied whilst using the brush to move his hair. “Look at you..hangin’ with the in-laws” Louis teased YN to which she pushed his shoulder playful, trying to mask the blush on her cheeks. --- Before YN heads up to her seat with her family and the boy's families, the crew members and families are seen giving the boys words of encouragement and hugs. YN hugged and wished Zayn, Niall and Liam good luck before wrapping her arms around her brother's neck “Good luck..you’re gonna smash it” the camera picks up. Moving on to hug her boyfriend…the fans noticed the hug lasting longer than the others and Harry leaving a subtle peck on YN's temple. --- The boys and the crew are all waiting in the airport for the flight, some are lying across the small uncomfortable chairs and some are laying on the floor using bags and coats as a pillow.
Niall is awake and laying on the small sofa next to Louis, who’s sleeping with his hand resting under his head. Harry is laying on the floor wearing his signature black jeans and brown thick coat, despite not being able to see YN's face as it's tucked into Harry’s chest, fans are quick to spot Harry’s arms wrapped around her.
--- Harry is seen walking towards YN and Louis, in just a pair of boxers, as she's preparing to style her brother's hair. “Morning” Louis greets Harry as he turns to face him, noticing his lack of clothing as he enters his and YN's shared room. “Good morning” Harry’s raspy voice is heard. Louis notices the smirk YN and Harry share as their eyes are glued to each other, to which he raises his eyebrows to the camera in front of him with a teasing glint in his eye. After YN sprays Louis's hair with some hairspray, Harry takes his place in the chair in front of YN. Harry starts pretending to play the piano and making strange noises as YN attempts to cut his hair and Louis is laying across your bed also contributing to the noises, “Keep still will ya..I’m gonna end up messin’ it up” YN tells Harry who looks at Louis with a sheepish smile. But in true Louis and Harry style, they continue their childish behaviour and laugh at YN's unamused expression. --- The boys are waiting backstage, ready to perform at the 1D Japan party. YN is sat on the stool behind the drumkit, and Louis is standing behind her trying to show her how to play them. “Little Things” Harry suggests for them to practice before heading out to perform. Liam and Zayn are harmonising, whilst Niall and Louis add their own version of the song. Harry comes into the shot where YN is standing with Louis, Liam and Niall…beginning to poke her cheek ”And I've just let these little things slip out of my mouth, 'cause it's you, oh, it's you, It's you, they add up to”
--- Harry is adjusting the beanie on his head as he’s explaining to the camera crew, whilst going down the escalator, “We rarely get a day off when we’re visiting places..so it’s nice to walk around…and explore” after moving the string of his mask that’s sitting under his chin, Harry moves to place a hand on YN's shoulder as she's standing in front of him waiting to get off the escalator. Sitting in the back of the van, Harry is telling Niall about his day of exploring “Me and YN went around wearing one of those surgical masks”. “Oh you did?..Where did you get them?” Niall asked “I bought a packet of five.. I've got a spare one that you can have” Harry offered. “Sick” Niall replied.
--- “You know we don’t get to see our families as much as we used to” Niall explains “But..um..we have like a road family”. Harry is sitting topless on the plain black chair in front of the large mirror waving his hands around at the camera filming, as YN is drying his hair, instructed by Lou who was trying to get Lux down for a nap. “I’m Paul Higgins and I’m their tour manager” Paul introduces himself, sitting behind a table covered with different papers. Paul is seen shouting about the boys having five minutes left until they need to be on stage. YN is sat on the brown sofa next to her brother whilst he cheekily looks at Paul and says “Thank you Dad”. “The boys are very grounded and that comes from the people around them” Paul explains. “Lou and YN gives us the best haircuts” Liam praises as Lou is shaving his hair and YN is standing next to her holding some of the equipment. “Aww thank you”. Lou and YN both say in unison. In the next frame, Liam takes the hairspray out of YN's hand whilst she's trying to tidy up his hair and begins to spray hers. “AHHH…LIAM” YN screams. Harry then grabs YN and Lou, both being off guard by the sudden movement and pulls them both into a group cuddle whilst expressing his appreciation “I love my hair..thanks girls”. “Don’t touch me” Lou repeats. --- It’s Paul's birthday and everyone celebrates in one of the backstage rooms, with a song and a round chocolate cake. Harry thought it would be a good idea to smear chocolate icing over YN's cheek and forehead. The camera captures Harry trying to crawl his way out of the crowded room to escape her grip, but he’s too slow and YN manages to climb on top of him. “No..No” Harry is heard shouting and protesting as YN wipes a large dollop of icing onto his cheek. Louis’s voice is heard from inside the room “I told you not to mess with her Harry lad”. Harry then gets up from the floor and runs after YN down the hallway of the venue and eventually wrapping his arm around her front and lifting YN from the floor and rubbing his cheek blindly against her face, making them both laugh uncontrollably together. --- The boys are talking about each other and what they bring to the band. Zayn begins by describing Harry as a perfect pop star who was born for it. Louis is sitting on one of the tour boxes “Harry is definitely charming…I mean he’s won over a Tomlinson you know what I mean”. “He’s just being Harry and he likes going out and having a good time” Liam adds “and doesn’t want to waste a moment”. --- Liam and Harry are fishing, well...Harry is leaning his head against the side of the wall. They're both talking about their time on The X Factor and how they remembered little discussions they had…even one about kicking Zayn out of the band because he didn’t turn up to a coffee meeting once.
And in an unseen clip, Harry admitted “I got so nervous..like talking to YN”. “Aww mate…I can’t talk to girls” Liam agreed “What was your..like protocol when talking to her?”. “I threw things at her” Harry laughed at his joke. “You threw things at her?” Liam repeated. "No..I'm only joking..I used to make her cups of tea". “Well it clearly worked mate”. --- Louis is skateboarding through the arena and grabs a box of popcorn from the table, with YN running behind him. Louis is then driving a forklift truck around, with YN sitting on the back holding on while he speeds around the room. “Watch out..” Louis announces. “The Tomlinsons are coming through” and the security guards are trying to catch them both to take the keys off Louis. --- In another clip, YN and Harry are outside in the car park of the venue running from Preston and Paddy, Harry’s security. They both managed to get to the metal fence but as they tried crawling underneath, Preston caught hold of YN's foot to stop her. “C’mon now YN” as he helped her up. “I am their Dad on the road” Paul explains. “We have a good working relationship..the only issue I've got is their all a pain in the arse..including YN” Paul adds with a chuckle. --- YN is walking through a crowded town with Louis, Liam and Zayn when some fans spot the group. Liam asks if Louis wants to go into one of the shops to the left of them. More fans start to recognise the boys and get excited, and more and more fans appear screaming and shouting. The security guards with them all are quick to try and get them all into the shop, protectively Louis wraps his arm around his sister's shoulder to keep her close to him. Once the security ushers the group into the shop and closes the front doors, fans start singing What Makes You Beautiful whilst blocking the store. YN continues to stand near Louis and Zayn as security decides how to get them all out of there safely. --- At the airport waiting to go home, Harry is laying on the floor whilst Lou’s boyfriend spins him around in circles by his legs. YN is seen in the background standing close to Harry whilst he hugs Zayn goodbye. Louis then comes over to his sister and wraps his arms around her shoulders and is heard telling her to phone him later as YN is going home with Harry. --- Harry is back home in his hometown, Homles Chapel, and is walking through a field area that’s not far from his mum’s house. “I like Homles Chapel because every other part of my life has changed…apart from like coming here it’s like exactly the same” Harry speaks as he’s walking across the short grass. As he approaches the water and some trees, he begins to speak “I kissed a girl down here..it was a bit further down..we were like against a tree” and cheekily smiles at the camera “I won't tell you who though…she’s got a scary older brother” Harry joked “..but it was pretty steamy”. --- Jay is wearing her red Yorkshire Tea apron whilst she’s sorting through clothes on the bed in front of her explaining how Louis has only been home five times since he auditioned for The X Factor. YN and Louis are visiting their great-grandmother at her home in Doncaster. “Hello luv’” Louis greets her with a hug. YN follows behind, “Hello Nan” as YN pulls her into a loving cuddle. Louis is sitting on the sofa with their Nan with an arm around her shoulder whilst she explains it's been a long time since she’s seen them both, but she does have photos of the two siblings along with their other siblings up on her walls that she looks at every day. --- In another clip, Harry has just woken up and is laying on his bare stomach under a white duvet. “We’ve got a show today” he rasps in his husky morning voice. Fans are quick to spot YN's smaller frame lying on the pillow next to his and he glances at her and mutters “I’m exhausted”. ***
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athenamikaelson · 3 months
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War of Scars - A Luke Castellan Story
PART 1
Thunder Daddy is Real?
Word Count- 3.7k
Warnings- Swearing, blood, gore, fighting, some mature content 
“What the actual fuck is a half-blood?” 
I scream to Keiko as she grips the steering wheel of the stolen Passat we were now flooring down the vacant back road of New York. Keiko’s short, white-bleached hair stuck up as if she’d just been electrocuted, and a look of concern in her dark eyes as she glanced between both front-view mirrors. I tried to figure out what she was so worried about as I glanced through my passenger seat mirror but was only met with the darkening road. The red cast from the taillights shone a light on the passing forest and trees. The branches from the trees cast shadows over the backroad, a small shiver goes through my back as I imagine that they look like limbs and arms reaching for our car as we drive away. As if begging us not to drive any further. I want to yell to them that I don’t want to go any further either, that I want to go back home. Home to my mother and father, a mother and father that no longer want me I remind myself, and home to my brothers who probably don’t even know I’ve left. 
“A half-blood is what you are Y/N.” 
Keiko’s words snap my attention back into the car as I turn to her with an annoyed look. I can feel the tips of my nails scratching against the skin of my palms, reading to break the already calloused skin. A nasty habit I picked up a few years ago.
“Ya, that’s what everyone keeps telling me! But that doesn’t answer what the fuck it is!” I can feel the breaking of skin as I dig my nails deeper, trying to ground my feelings and stop another outburst from happening. 
“Do you remember all those stories I used to tell you about the Greek Gods and myths?”
Keiko’s eyes briefly meet mine for the first time since I watched her steal this car over 3 hours ago. I think over what she said. The stories about the woman who the goddess Athena turned into a snake lady, and the man who stole fire from the Gods just to give to humans come to mind. I slowly nod my head at her, hoping that this isn’t some psychotic break she’s having because I’m on the verge of having my own right now and this car is already tiny as fuck. Two people freaking the fuck out would not be a good idea. 
I watch as Keiko’s chest rises and falls deeply, her ACDC shirt that she had stolen from a lost and found at school stretches at the movement. 
“All those stories I told you, about the Gods, Zeus, Posideon, Hades, and all the others,” She turns back to look at me, “they’re all true. And one of them is your biological parent,” Her face scrunches up as she goes back to look at the road, “well technically not biological per se since gods don’t have DNA.” 
She goes to continue speaking but stops once I let out a laugh that comes deep from the back of my throat. I watch with scrunched eyes as she stares at me in slight worry I hunch over gripping my stomach as more laughter rises out of my mouth.
“Are you ok?”
Keiko’s worried voice comes from beside me and I sit up and wipe stray tears from my eyes. 
“Am I alright? I should be the one asking you that question, you’re the one saying that the almighty thunder daddy Zeus is real, and then saying that one of his buddies is my parent.”
Keiko’s face scrunches up in disgust and she casts a glance to the star-covered sky for some reason.
“You really shouldn’t talk like that, the Gods don’t like to be disrespected.”
Her worried expression halts my jokes as I stare at the now serious face in front of mine. Keiko has never been the one in this friendship to care about following the rules or being scared of anything, she’s the fearless one. So why the hell does she look terrified at the talk of a bunch of fictional deities?
“Ok, Kio the joke was funny for the first five minutes but I want the truth now. Why did my parents kick me out after saying I’m not theirs and that you’d know what to do?” 
I try to cover up the slight break in my voice at the mention of my parents, or adopted parents I guess, telling me that after 18 years I wasn’t theirs. Flashes of my caring mother holding me when I was a child telling me that I was a gift to her, that she would never let anything happen to me. Was all of that some sick lie?
“Y/N listen to me,” Keiko catches my attention, “I’m not lying to you. Your mother or father is a god. A Greek god. Which makes you a half-blood, half mortal half god. And because of this, it means being out here in the mortal world is going to get you killed. I was sent here, as your satyr to protect you until the time came where I’d take you to camp. I’m not sure why it’s taken this long for the monsters to catch up to you, most of the time half-bloods are brought to camp around 12. But you being 18 brings up some questions. I think your parent is a smaller god that’s why there hasn't been much focus on you.” 
I can feel my mouth start to dry up from the air entering my now-opened mouth. I’ve been staring at Keiko with wide eyes the entire time she's been going on about gods and death and shit. She must have noticed my lack of response because she stopped talking and looked at me. Her serious expression brings a wave of anger through my system which is the final breaking point for the palms as my nails break skin and a warm liquid coats my nails. 
“Stop the car.” 
Three words are all I say to her as I unbuckle my seat belt.
“What?”
I turn to Keiko, my teeth grinding against one another.
“Stop the goddamn car. I’m done being lied to. My parents have lied to me my entire life and now my so-called best friend is making fun of my shitty life with made-up fairytales. So stop the fucking car or I’ll jump out myself.” 
“I’m not stopping, we can’t if we want to make it to camp as soon as possible. And we’re going,” Keiko glances at the speedometer, “64 miles per hour. If you jump out of the car now you’ll die.” 
I look out of the forest and think of all that has happened in the past 12 hours. 
“It’s not like I have anything to lose. I’d rather be mangled and dead than sit in this car with you, driving to god knows where, while you tell me a bunch of lies.”
I hear a deep sigh come from Keiko and wait a moment to hear whatever bullshit she’s about to start spewing at me but it never comes. Instead, I feel the car start to accelerate, and a few words in an unknown language spill from her mouth. 
“Put your seatbelt on.” 
Keiko’s voice comes out harsh and deadly as I watch her grip the worn steering wheel. Her frantic gaze moves from the back of us to the dark road ahead. 
“I’m not putting my seatbelt on, just stop the car already.” 
I try to argue back at her but she just lets out a huff of air and reaches over the center console of the car, grabs my seatbelt, and snaps it back into place. I watch her with wide eyes at the fucking audacity of the bitch. I go to yell at her but she raises a single finger at me, just like a mother who’s had enough of her child talking would. 
“We’re being followed.”
Her dark eyes move frantically all over the place as if she sees something I don’t. Ok, maybe she is losing her mind. Fuck now I feel like an asshole. 
“Listen Keiko maybe we should just take some deep breaths and talk this through. Cause it seems like right now some of us are going a bit crazy. And by some of us, I don’t mean me.”
I lightly raise a finger and point at her. I go to laugh at my joke but the car jolts forward as if we’d just got rear-ended.
“What the-”
“It’s right there shit!” 
Keiko slams her leg onto the gas pedal but it doesn’t seem to do much help as another hit comes from behind us. My long legs bang against the dash of the car as I look behind us trying to figure out what asshat doesn’t know how to drive, but I freeze when I see nothing there. No headlights, no cars, nothing. We’re the only ones on the road. 
“There you see it! You see I’m not lying! I can’t tell what creature it is but it’s big and has wings so that crosses out giants, thankfully.” 
Kieko glances between the front and me and her face falls once she reads my features.
“What?”
“What do you mean what? There is nothing there.”
I turn to the back of the car and point to the vacant road behind us. Keiko turns around and her eyebrows raise.
“No, it was right there.” 
But as she turns back around to face the front, I jump from the loud yelp that escapes her lips as she appears to see something before us on the road. Something I can’t seem to see. What I don’t see coming either is the tight right turn Keiko makes to miss the invisible “creature.” I grasped onto the passenger side door and turned wide-eyed to her. About to yell at her when the driver’s side of the car is lifted and I feel my heart fall to my ass as I watch the trees that were once reaching and calling for me, get their wish as the car is thrown into the woods. 
“Y/N, come wake up, Y/N!” 
I hear muffled voices come from above me as cold winds envelop me. I must be in heaven, God must be calling for me. I try to open my eyes but the overwhelming pressure in my head urges me to keep them closed for just five more minutes. I’m about to give in to the thought when a sharp pressure hits the side of my cheek, shocking me awake.
I abruptly sit up but quickly regret it when a pounding pain comes from every part of my body. My eyes can’t seem to register my dark surroundings either as more pain enters my frontal lobe. 
“I’m sorry I did that but I need you to get up, I don’t know where the chimera is, but I can feel it’s close.” 
Kieko, that’s Kieko. My brain tries to get me to register her words but the throbbing in my head is halting any thought process from going on. Another wave of red pain goes through my body as I feel an arm wrap itself around my waist and lift me.
“Do you think you can walk?”
A voice asks me. No, not a voice, Kieko’s voice. Kieko is talking to me. I try to shake my head as if to fight away the overwhelming urge to close my eyes and lay down and sleep for the foreseen future. 
“Get up and walk”. 
A voice comes into my head. Why does my subconscious sound so manly and bossy? But I listen to it as I feel my feet try to move one after the other. The overwhelming pressure coming from my entire body though makes it feel as if I’m dragging two cinderblocks on each leg. 
“OK, good. We’re about a mile from camp I think if I got my constellations correct.” 
I finally can get my eyes open as I stare at Kieko beside me. If I wasn’t feeling like absolute dogshit right now I’d laugh at the image of her short body leaning awkwardly to the side trying to carry my taller one. I try to lean off of her slightly to give her help but her grip tightens on me.
“Don’t, you got banged up pretty hard in the accident. I thought I had lost you for a moment there, but it was my mistake for thinking you’d ever let death take you this young or without your approval.”
Kieko lets out a small laugh which quickly turns into a cough as she winces in pain.
“Are you hurt?”
My voice comes out strained and rough, like an old woman who’s been smoking since she was 13 years old. Kieko just shakes her head and picks up the pace of her walking. 
“Just a few scratches, nothing as bad as you. We need to move faster though I can sense the chimera getting closer. The smell of your blood is making it easier for it to track us.”
My face scrunches up at the words. I want to argue to her that there’s no creature out there hunting us and that she is just having a psychotic break but once I feel the cold metallic-smelling liquid move down my face as if it was caressing it, I stay quiet. 
We continue to walk for what seems like hours, or well Kieko walks and I latch on to her and get dragged. I don’t know where the hell she’s going but I have no other choice but to go with her. I lurch forward as Kieko abruptly stops. Her heading whipped around us like a mad woman. 
“Did you hear that?” 
She whispers into my ear. I shake my head in response. And we stand there for a moment before she tightens her hold on me and starts to walk again. Her hand around my waist quickly detaches and I can only watch in what seems like slow motion as she is thrown against a neighboring tree. A sickening crack comes from her body as I watch it fall to the ground. I go to run to her a roar turns my attention to behind me. I can feel my heart beat erratically as I slowly turn to the monstrous being behind me. With a body that must stand above 10 feet tall, a lion stands before me. Wait. No. Not a lion. Defiantly not a lion. 
Acidic bile starts to make its way up my throat as my eyes meet the red beady eyes of a goat, a goat that is protruding from the lion's back. A hissing sound catches my attention as I slowly turn my gaze to the python that has replaced the lion goat’s tail. 
As I stare at the creature I want to pass out. Or maybe I’m already asleep and this is some bad nightmare. But as the lion-goat-snake thing takes a step toward me, with its paws that rival the size of my big head I use whatever strength I have left and run. If I can lead it away from Kieko that's all that matters. 
I don’t have to worry about it not following me as I hear the thundering footsteps catch up behind me. I try to dodge tree after tree, jumping over fallen logs, and feel my sneakers imprint into the mud that has started to form from the light downfall of rain that has started to coat myself and the forest. 
I go to turn right, the downpour of the rain falling harder and blocking much of my already shitty vision. But a burst of heat and flames come from behind me hitting the trees to my right. I whip my head around to see smoke coming from the lion-goat-snake thing and curse to myself. Of course, it can breathe fire too. I try to go to my left but a searing pain catches on my back as I drop to the ground. 
I lift myself on my elbows as I watch the monster lift its large paw and lick the red liquid off of its nails as if it were mocking me. Its eyes glint with malice as the goat lets out a strangled noise.
“We’re a gift from Athena.”
A strangled hiss comes from the snake's mouth.
 I go to close my eyes and just accept my fate but stop when my manly subconscious chimes in again. 
“Get up and fight, you’re a warrior. Grab the stick next to you and fight back. Make it bleed. If it can bleed it can be killed.” 
God, when did I become so melodramatic? But I realize manly me is right, if I die this thing will go back for Keiko. The monster continues its prowl toward me as I keep eye contact with it. Hoping it doesn’t see my right hand that has grasped onto the stick by my side. I wait until the lion opens its mouth, probably to light me on fucking fire and that’s when I strike. 
I lift myself onto my knees and lurch forward with the stick in my hand and as the lion opens its ginormous mouth and I see the start of embers begin to light in its throat I stab the stick right down into it. I loud howl of pain comes from the creature as it tries to dislodge the stick that is now protruding from its mouth. I watch for another moment as the goat and the snake move around frantically trying to help their injured creature. But I know if they do succeed in getting that out I’m fucked so I push myself up with a hiss. The overwhelming smell of blood coming from my back, the more I move the harsher the pull and pain. But I'm not letting the ugly motherfucker be my demise. 
I come up from behind the creature, which is now facing away from me with its entire focus on dislodging the stick, and I leap onto its back. The goat and the snake are the only ones to notice my arrival as they start hissing and making whatever strange noise the goat is making. I grab onto the fur of the creature to keep myself upright and I grasp the snake into my hands. It thrashes in my hands, its cool slimy body almost making me drop it as I try to wrap the snake around the goat's throat. I pull in the opposite direction with all my weight as the hissing constricts until I hear the crack of the goat's neck. The strangled snake and the now dead goat have caught the attention of the lion who has finally dislodged the stick and has now noticed me.
The lion roars so deeply that it makes my body shake. I would almost feel bad for killing its friends/body sharers if it wasn’t trying to y’know fucking kill me. The lion stands to its full height and starts to thrash its body as a means to get me off. I quickly grasp the curled horns of the goat as a means of stabilization. But as the thrashing gets harsher I hear a sharp snap as I’m thrown against yet another tree. 
Bark scratches up my already bloody back as I let out a loud wail. The rain from before crashing down all around me thunder shakes the earth and forest and lightning strikes a nearby tree. But my attention is fully on the lion who has now started its attack on me. I can sit there as I lift my hands to protect my face as the lion comes rushing at me. 
I sit there drenched, cold, and bloody waiting for my demise, but nothing comes. I slowly open one eye and flinch as I see the lion staring at me. But it’s not moving. It’s not breathing either. Its once hatred-filled eyes are now glossed over with death. My gaze goes from its haunting eyes to its chest where the goat horn I had cracked off is now lodged into the lion's heart. Red liquid coated my hands as I loosened my grip on the horn and backed away from the dead creature. 
“How did you do that?” 
I thrash my head to the side grabbing the horn a second time in defense. I halt though when I see Keiko holding herself up against a tree. Blood trickles down her whitening skin as she looks at the monster in awe and slight disgust. She pushes off the tree and starts to walk to me but her knees lock up and she falls to the ground. I push myself back up quickly and crawl to her. 
“Are you ok?”
I quickly ask her, wiping away the blood that has now made its way onto her eyebrows. Keiko sends me an unreadable look. 
“How did you kill the Chimera?” 
I go to answer, but a shock of lightning comes down between us. The only thing I can focus on is the scorching pain that has taken over my body and left arm. My vision goes black as I feel my heart start to give out. 
“We need a medic.” A strained voice yells from beside me. Or is it coming from behind me? I can’t tell. All I can focus on is the searing pain that has taken over my being, I can’t seem to focus on the campers running over to me and Kieko, I can’t hear any more of Keiko's cries for help, and I don’t feel the muscular arms wrap around my body as I feel my heart start to slow down again, everything going back to dark. 
“I think she’s waking up!” 
A loud girlish voice comes from beside me.
“That’s what you said two days ago.” 
Another more annoyed voice talks back. I strain to open my eyes as light crashes against my burning pupils. But I do I open them enough to look up to see dark brown eyes staring down at my Y/E/C ones. 
“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood Sleeping Beauty.”
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fizee · 19 days
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Non Disclosure Agreement 📃🖋️
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Naoya x Reader | 3.3k | 18+ only!
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Includes: female!reader, femdom!reader, man ass getting ate, submissive!naoya (mostly).
Content Warnings: consensual sexual asphyxiation, blatant cheating, prostitution, casual sexism.
Part of the Jujutsu Journal collab hosted by @ayyy-pee, thank you so much for including me! A big thank you to @mysteria157 for beta'ing extensively for me, as well as a couple of my close friends, and a big happy birthday to (you know who you are)
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Naoya hates the rain.
Even in the summer months it’s less refreshing to him and more of a nuisance- sticky, damp, and everywhere. It pitters and soaks into his clothes and he would have brought an umbrella- if this was a place where anyone cared about getting rained on.
It's not.
The hotel is dingy and not worthy of the sad little three star review rating it managed to gain. The pavement he steps over is cracked, and the entrance he steps through is worn. Whatever. It suits his needs, even if it makes his clothes stink. He’d never get recognized in this part of town.
He gives the front desk clerk a cursory glance- feeling snide at the state of his wrinkled shirt and miserably nonchalant disposition. Naoya doesn’t have to check in, nobody does here. But he drops cash on the desk and keeps walking, not caring if it’s too much or too little.
You had already texted him the room number. He wonders if a place like this even has an elevator.
He turns down the hall and is only mildly surprised to find that there is, indeed, an elevator, despite this place only having three stories. It’s got trace amounts of rust. It squeals when the doors slide open.
He glances at his watch, tapping the screen to pull up your text. 36. He scoffs to himself. You and your third floors. Something about feeling unsafe on the first floor, which is stupid. He’s never understood that about you.
He finds the room quickly, ignoring the fact that as he gets closer, his collar feels tighter. It’s been too long since he’s seen you. He swears he can smell your perfume over all the mildew in the disgusting sixty year old hallway carpet. The perfume was his choice, of course. A birthday gift. You had almost refused it, saying that you don’t take gifts from clients and blah blah blah. He’s not one to look a horse in the mouth, so he had made you suck his cock to earn it. It does smell good on you.
He knocks quickly, six short thuds on the door. He doesn’t bother to try the handle, he knows it’s locked. He gives a quick glance at the hallway around him when he hears the door unlock, and watches the handle turn.
“Mr. Zenin.” You greet him with a graceful smile. He rolls his eyes and walks past you into the room, not wanting to linger in the hallway.
“You’re late,” you accuse sweetly. “A half hour late, to be precise.”
“Put it on my tab.” He grumbles. You just smile, approaching him and helping him out of his coat just how he likes, smoothing your hands out over his back as you do. You hook the coat over the crooked little hanger that juts out of the wall, looking stupidly bespoke on outdated wallpaper.
He takes a seat unceremoniously in the faded pink chair sitting opposite the bed.
“This place is a dump.” He says. He eyes your clothes- pink and flowy, opaque but not thick enough to hide your shape. It flows over you like water, and his collar feels tighter. You smile gently and walk over to press your palms into his shoulders from behind.
“Dumps keep secrets.” You murmur. His hair smells good. You press your face to it and kiss him gently.
“Far cry from Aman,” He complains, reminding you of the hotel you had met each other in, all the way across the world.
“God, I haven’t thought of that place in years,” You run your fingers in the dips of his collarbones, laughing gently, “You were the only sober one at that party, stuck out like a sore thumb.”
“And you were the only whore not hanging off a man’s neck.”
“What can I say?” You undo the top few buttons of his shirt to expose his skin to your warm touch, “I’ve got… refined tastes.”
He hums. His watch dings once but he doesn’t bother to check it. He runs a hand over his jaw, reminiscing of how you had looked in that party room, full of investment cucks and coke addicted businessmen and glittery, shimmering whores. You seemed to almost glow under the dim lights, alone, calling to him with your gaze.
He sighs.
“Long day?” You ask.
“Long month.” He mutters bitterly. “You didn’t return my calls.”
“I was on vacation.” You dig your fingers into his trapezius soothingly, finding the spots that make him melt gooey like butter.
“Since when do whores take vacations?”
“Since filthy rich married men started paying them extra.”
He snorts. He reaches up and grabs your hand, pressing his mouth to your warm fingertips.
“Did you miss me?” You ask playfully, ducking your head to giggle in his ear, “Or did you miss my-“
You’re cut off when he grabs your face and holds you so he can plant a slightly slobbery kiss on your lips. Your glossy red lipstick smears on his mouth. He has his belt unbuckled by the time he releases his hold on you, but you frown for a moment.
“I thought you didn’t drink?” You had definitely tasted the alcohol on his tongue, but drunk he did not seem. Far from it. He’s looking up at you with an icy clarity.
“I don’t.”
“Mhmm. Does Mrs. Zenin know?”
“You’re a cunt,” he says, but there is no real bite behind it. “A stupid cunt. Suck me off.”
“Is that really what you want?” You snake around the chair, putting yourself in his lap. It’s a bit awkward with the bulky, ugly chair, but you manage to press the very core of you where he's most sensitive. Your hands drift up his chest and rest at his neck, and you lean in to whisper against his mouth.
“You’ll have work for that.” You kiss him gently. “Unless, of course, you can ask nicely for once.”
His mouth pulls into a half hearted sneer but his cheeks glow pink. His eyes meet yours and his pupils are wide and dark and calm, two tiny black lakes.
His silence is his answer.
“You really did miss me,” You murmur sweetly, bringing your hands up to press around his neck, thumbs securely pressed on either side of his windpipe. You press hard. His face slowly goes red. His hips jerk in pavlovian response. You can feel the hard length of him against the curve of your ass, begging to be free of his pants.
He gasps finally, Inhaling quickly through his constricted throat. He doesn’t avert his eyes from yours, looking at you desperately while you grind against him and tighten your grip on his neck even more. His hands grab at the arms of the chair, his knuckles turning white. He tries to keep his breathing even, but it comes in quick, needy huffs.
“I hope you can be good for me tonight.” You coo. You kiss him. He whines, attempting to chase your mouth when you pull away, but you keep an iron grip on his neck, preventing him from moving more than an inch.
You give him one more hard press into his lap and you can tell he’s already close, and so soon! His eyes are slightly glazed, drool threatening to drip from his open mouth. You'd bet all the money he’s paying you that he’s already leaking if you reached and touched him.
You release him suddenly, rubbing over his shoulders while he gasps for a full breath. He keeps his palms firmly to the chair, resisting the urge to grab you and hold you to him and ruin the ridiculously expensive pants he’s got on.
You slide off his lap and stand to soak in the view- the red streaks chasing over his neck, the tent in his pants.
“Stand up. Clothes off.” You tell him, dropping your robe to the floor. You don’t strip down like he begins to do, instead leaving the matching slip covering your body.
You hum in approval as he removes his shirt, eating up the lovely shape of his body. He’s always taken care of himself, almost obsessively so. His pants are next to go, and then the non descript black briefs.
He averts his eyes as he stands before you, nude. His erection twitches in the cold air.
“Got some tanning done, did you?” You step in and pet over his taught stomach, grazing low to tease him.
“Malibu.” He says, some of that snide returning, “and you could have come with me if you’d returned my calls.”
“I remember that. Some of your twitter fanboys posted about it. I doubt Mrs. Zenin would have appreciated me coming with you on a family trip.”
“Wasn’t really a family trip.” He grits out as you feather over his hips, his thighs, appreciating what a specimen he is. “The boys stayed with the nanny the whole time. And she just-“ he grunts when you reach lower and touch his balls, avoiding his cock alltogether, “She’s a prize tuna, I’ll give her that. Not like you.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s an extra six hundred if you want me to listen to you badmouth your wife. Get on the bed.”
He looks like he's going to say something, mouth parting and brow furrowing. You peer at him warmly, your pupils as blown as his. He closes his mouth, deciding not to say whatever was knocking around in his head, and climbs onto the bed without fanfare.
You watch him closely, enjoying the view of his nude body splayed out and primed for you to play with. He’s flushed everywhere he’s sensitive- his face, his chest, his cock. Without stimulation you see it already going half soft, so you kneel onto the bed over him and place your palm against his head. He gasps and jerks, grabs your wrist but quickly loosens his grip and just holds you there.
“C’mon,” he pleads. Though he’d cuss and whine if you described it as pleading. He ruts himself against your palm, his teeth dig into his lower lip. It's not enough but it’s also too much. He’s always been sensitive.
“You could ask.” You say, knowing he won’t. You pull away and his fingers twitch with the need to take himself in hand.
“You’re a bitch.” He says. “Evil fucking bitch.”
You laugh. It’s a light and gentle thing. He doesn’t think about how nice it sounds.
“You really know how to talk to a lady, huh?” You press on his shoulder, making him lay back fully.
“I can hardly call you a lady.” He’s got a hungry look in his eyes. He looks good laying there- hair slightly ruffled, cheeks pink. It’s a sight you’ve seen a dozen times but you’ll never grow tired of.
He lays still, waiting. He glowers at you while you make him wait. You come up near his head and sling a leg over his neck.
“Maybe this will shut you up.” You hike up the slip you wear and grin down at him. No, of course you’re not wearing anything underneath it. He doesn’t hesitate to grab your thighs and shove his nose into the neat curls there and lick a hot wet stripe into your core.
You’ve been wet and swollen for a while. It’s nearly conditioned. You feel a slight tingle every time he calls you, wanting to see you. Wanting to fuck you. But now you’re soaked, your cunt wetting his face without shame, arching your back when he finds your clit and sucks on it desperately.
You lock your thighs around his head, cutting off nearly all the airflow he would’ve managed to get before. He likes it. You reach behind you and grip the base of him, feeling him twitch and pulse. He suckles on your clit til you’re keening- and right as you squeeze his cock a little harder and your hips jerk a little more desperately, he shifts and his tongue delves deep into your dripping hole, licking and practically drinking you down. You make a choked little whimper, so close to release.
You grab his hair and hold him beneath you, grinding your cunt into his mouth and nose and eating up every muffled noise he makes. His tongue works hungrily, desperate to please you, delving as deep as he can into your cunt and searching out the spots that make you gasp and moan sweetly for him.
He swipes his tongue just right, and you fall over the edge, grunting and whimpering and twitching all over.
You roll over from on top of him and he gasps wildly, hair ruined and mouth wet and swollen pink. He just looks at you as you gain your breath, your insides gooey and warm and pulsing with aftershocks. He gives you a small, coy little smile.
“I guess I’m not the only one who was missing it.”
You shove at him playfully, all pretense falling away for a moment. You sit up to clear your head, not forgetting that he’s still hard, and leaking, and needy.
“Turn over. Hands and knees.” You tell him. His blush returns tenfold. He glances away from you in tentative embarrassment, though it’s obvious that what he’s hoping for isn’t going to be damped by a little thing like shame. He doesn’t have to be a shameful creature with you.
He does as you command, rolling over and propping himself up on his elbows and knees, his back already slightly arched. You’re definitely appreciating the view. He hides his face from you.
“Oh, wow.” You grin. “Smooth as butter, huh?”
“Shut up.” He snaps, his voice muffled by the pillow. You take a moment to really see the view of him- his tight pink hole is smooth and perfect, obviously recently waxed. Or maybe even lasered. You never know with him. You run your fingers over him, light as a whisper, dragging a caress over his cock to his balls and finally to his hole. It twitches. Cute.
“I should take a picture, pretty as you are.” You say. You grab his cheeks in each of your hands, spreading him fully.
He mutters something about our NDA, something about you being a bitch. You don’t really pay any mind as you lean over him and spit out a thick glob of saliva over the tight ring of muscle, making him gasp.
He goes perfectly still In anticipation, his dick jerking with every lick you apply to him. You drag your tongue against his perineum up to his hole- he tastes clean, like only salt. You know he’s obsessive with how he grooms himself. Saliva slowly runs down, leaving a trail of wet across his balls.
You slip your hand under him to grab his length to give him one long, smooth pull, earning a tiny little whimper from him. You plant your mouth fully on his hole, tongue rubbing circles into the muscle. You jerk him off slowly, too slow to ever bring him to completion. He whines and twitches under your touch and you feel a throb deep in your core for the way he’s trembling.
You bring your head away from him earning a slight wet pop as your mouth breaks the seal it had over his hole, leaving your drool to cool on his heated skin. You slide your hand over his cock faster, gathering up his precum to make the slide easier, your grip is intense and tightens more around the base, pulling down and milking him like some breeding stud. His hips begin to move in the air, and the noises he makes, muffled by the pillow, are throaty and low. You know how he sounds when he’s close, how he shakes with the climb, and when he nears his peak you abruptly pull away to deny him. He groans loudly in frustration and need, and finally looks over his shoulder to glare at you, his fucked out expression not hiding his irritation.
“I don’t want you ruining the sheets.” You say. He catches on immediately, sitting up and grabbing you to put you under him. He practically rips the slip from your body, the fabric strains and the stitches pop, pulling it up and over your head so he can press his flushed skin against yours.
You almost protest, you actually did like that dress, but he kisses you with teeth and growls something about buying you a new one. He grabs your breasts roughly and you feel the length of him pillowing itself against your lips. But he doesn’t do more than that, rutting against your cunt and swallowing your noises with his mouth. He whines.
“Naoya,” You say, when your hot tongues part, “Naoya-“
He grabs your hips and positions you perfectly to plunge his aching cock into your slick heat, as desperate as an animal, and just as rough.
The sudden intrusion makes you cry out in pleasure, his thrusts coming in quick, needy bursts. He presses his sweaty brow into the pillow under your head. His hands hold your waist like a lifeline, his need ramming inside of yours, jerking and twitching and hot and wet. He kisses your cervix with every pump, leaving you breathless and needy.
But you know he can’t finish properly like this. You can see it when he pulls back to look at you, his face flushed and his mouth open and drooling. You wind your hands around his throat and squeeze, blocking his air and turning his noises into tiny pathetic gasps and wheezes. It doesn’t take long. His hips stutter and he finally, finally finds what he’s looking for, tipping over and cumming so hard he stops even trying to breathe. You feel every drop of him rush out to paint your insides, his cock throbbing hot within your liquid-warm walls.
You release his throat and he takes a sharp, ragged inhale, his body locking up with the rush of oxygen and endorphins. His cock pulses inside of you again as if his balls aren’t spent completely, and you feel his cum finding its way to the entrance of your hole and spilling out around his length, way too much to be plugged up inside.
“Fuck,” He grunts, “fuck.”
You hum and run your palms up his sides and down his back where you can reach as he pieces his senses back together. He pulls from your core and you hiss in strange pleasure and slight soreness.
He rolls to the side and slumps on the bed, breathing deep and enjoying the afterglow. You wiggle your hips, feeling him leak out of you even more, thick and warm.
You’re both silent for a few minutes. His watch dings right as you turn to touch his chest, his arms, run your fingers over the angry red on his neck.
He glances at it. Groans in pure discontent.
“Work?” You trace his nipple with an idle finger.
“Yes.” He sits up, glancing over the mess of the bed. “I’ve got an eight o’clock tomorrow, apparently.”
“You can’t cancel?” You shift and stretch, not missing how his eyes graze over your body. “You’ve already booked me for twenty four hours.”
“No.” He says, simply. “Obligations… responsibilities… I don’t know, whatever bullshit you want to call it.”
“Do you want a shower?” You lean over and press your smeared mouth to his shoulder, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I mean, of course it’s disgusting, but you don’t want to go home smelling like… well, you know.”
Naoya breathes, long and deep. Then he looks back at you.
“You getting in with me?”
A/N: “Tuna” is a term in Japanese hookup culture that can be equated to a ‘pillow princess’ in an extreme sense. There’s nothing wrong with being a pillow princess, but I personally believe it’s not something this Naoya is particularly into.
Thank you so much for reading!
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nicolesainz · 8 months
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Focus on me (MM 7)
Mason Mount x f!reader
A/n: I have to give credits to my bff willow @landooscar for sending me that Mason gif on the Manchester United chair where his thighs are spread. You will see later on what l mean. For now thank her and I hope you enjoy the story.
Summary: Mason loves to fool around. But isn't really a fan of you giving your attention to other boys. So he decides not to play nice with you and give you a taste of your own medicine.
Warnings: minors dni, 18+, smut content, teasing, thigh riding, praise kink
"Hey babe? Can you come down and help me with something for a moment?”
Mason got no response. He allowed himself to finish preparing dinner for a few minutes, before he called me once again.
“Hello? Y/N? Can you help me down here, love?”
I could practically hear him but in that moment I was too focused on the Tv screen and too pumped to remove my eyes from it.
Footsteps were echoing through the corridor that was close to our bedroom. There was a soft knock on the door, as Mason thought that I was probably sleeping.
“Darling, are you awake?”
He said so softly and calmly. Gosh, how can one not fall in love with this man.
I went up to him and opened the door, trying to hide the grin I had on my face. Mason raised his eyebrows suspiciously, wondering what I may be doing alone.
“Why weren’t you coming downstairs to help me? I need some cooking advice from your mother but she won’t respond my calls”
I blinked. I couldn’t respond. It’s not like I was doing anything weird or unfaithful, but it wasn’t my finest moment. I think all girls have celebrity crushes, even when they have boyfriends. Right?
“I, uh, I was watching F1’s qualifying. It just finished.”
That was partially true.
“Righttt. And who got pole? Can I see?”
He approached the TV and he saw that it had been paused to a very particular moment that the director had filmed.
On the screen, there was Carlos Sainz, slicking through his long black hair, whilst waving at the cameraman. See? I told you. Not my finest moment.
“Babe, that’s Carlos. Why did you pause at that moment?”
Now that was the moment I blinked even more. Unable to respond. How do you exactly tell your boyfriend of three years that recently buzzed his hair, that you were admiring another man’s haircut.
It was kinda weird, but I had no shame. Maybe a little.
Mason scratched his head as he was waiting for my response, when he actually realized why I had paused the livestream. He felt his shirt hair and then looked at Carlos’s lengthy hairstyle.
“It’s the hair innit?”
His face dropped massively. I’m not going to lie, I’m not the biggest fan of buzzcuts but it fit Mason beautifully. I was though an even bigger fan of his prince-like hairstyle. My god, the way my fingers would tangle around, was mesmerizing.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you didn’t want me to buzz my hair this short? I would have picked another hairstyle”
“Masey, it’s your hair. I’m not one to judge or say anything. I love every single one of your hairstyles. Nothing changes just because you have shorter or longer hair.”
“But apparently you’re a fan of long hairstyles”
“It’s practically in many ways”
I was hinting at the time we were having sex on the couch and as Mason was about to fall, I pulled him from his hair and pulled his body against mine, still keeping the connection.
“That was very hot babe”
I felt bad that he had to see such a weak moment of mine. I love Mason no matter what. I don’t care about his looks. I only care about the person he is. The hair is the last thing I pay attention too.
“I’m so sorry Mase. This doesn’t mean anything. This is silly, I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t even know why I did.”
He wasn’t responding.
“Do you maybe want me to leave for a few hours and come back? I’ll go to my mom and pick up that recipe you want”
Instead of saying anything, he turned off the Tv, and sat on the bed, with his thighs kneeling in front of my eyes.
Before doing that he removed his shorts and shirt, revealing once again his Greek god like built body, full of beautiful drawn tattoos. My weakness being the champions league one on his rib cage.
“I need you to come close baby”
He said stiffly, in a more manly manner than the one he usually has. His Adam’s apple was sitting on the center of his neck and vile thoughts of me kissing this spot entered my brain.
I approached the bed, only to be dragged by Mason on top of his thighs. In mere seconds I was left shirtless, gifting him what he was asking for. His girlfriend bra-less and in the most vulnerable position ever.
“I’m the only man that’s allowed to make your tits hard. Are we clear about that?”
I simply nodded, as my eyes were wandering around his toned muscles on his shoulders and hardened errection. I didn’t know where to look.
“You’ll do as I say, right princess?”
“Y-es”
I replied weakly
“Ride my thigh. I want you to ride me until I feel your cum running down it. Until your pussy is stretched to its limits but you beg for more”
I was left speechless. I don’t know how we went from him wanting to cook, to making me cum out of nowhere. But I liked it.
I started rubbing myself on his thigh as his hands were holding my ass firmly and his lips had attacked mine, removing the oxygen from my system.
Moving up and down, I was feeling the heat on my pussy and Mason’s thigh trembling and pushing itself upwards, close to my clit. His fingers were sliding from the back of my ass, to under my panties and at first softly caressing my wet folds.
As his lips moved downwards to my neck, leaving endless marks in a certain pattern I couldn’t really understand, my pussy came face to face with his knee that was almost deep inside me. Like his fingers. The pace kept rising and more moans were escaping my lips.
“You’re mine. Solely mine”
“Your neck, your lips, your pussy. All mine”
“You’re the only man you’re allowed to admire. No one else”
I had reached the point were Mason’s thigh was covered in my cum and he moved me to the left one, repeating the same thing but never removing his fingers from my clit.
I let out a squeak as Mason hit my G-spot, earning a soft laugh from him. His lips were now occupied with my nipples and bouncing breasts, whilst mine were kissing his collarbone and nails were dug deep into his back.
“You’re the only one Mase”
“I’m yours. Body and soul”
Mason let out a frustrating moan, before we both orgasmed at the same time.
“You complete me baby. I love you, Y/N”
“I love you too Mase. You’re my boyfriend and the only for me”
Let’s just say that at night we barely did anything but hug and make love to each other.
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pinchofhoney · 8 months
Note
Because I wanna spread the "we need more Belphagor" message, how about something with him? Platonic or romantic is your choice but we need more content for him bc he's so :))))
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on the verge of a fever
belphegor x fem!reader
word count: 2.7k
warning: the way his character appears in the show has been changed for the purposes of this story; basically, here god is not trying to ruin the whole world, mention of drinking alcohol
summary: Ever wondered if Hell hosts Monopoly nights?
a/n: belphagor is my spirit animal. when you text me, it's the person who writes you back lmao my profile currently looks like a fan club of your requests, but it's not my fault that my obsession with this series is back and you're the only one with ideas related to it. i hope you enjoy it!!<33
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
Guiding Sam and Dean towards the bunk stairs, you couldn't help but notice the genuine concern etched on Sam's face. He leaned in, his tone brimming with sincere care, and gently reminded you, “You know, if you ever need a hand, just remember that Castiel is just a phone call away.”
This morning's awakening had thrown you a curveball. At first, you brushed off the strange sensations coursing through your body, thinking they were caused by the aging mattress beneath you. Yet, with each passing moment, that peculiar feeling escalated into something far more troubling. It clung to you like an insistent itch, impossible to ignore, casting an unsettling shadow over your day.
Now, wrapped snugly in the comforting cocoon of your soft, pink blanket, you found yourself ensnared in the relentless grip of a fever. Your body radiated heat, and every movement became a battle against the oppressive weight of illness. The sole lifeline keeping you tethered to the realm of the living was the medication within easy reach.
Summoning a faint smile, you struggled to reassure Sam, who always kept a watchful eye, despite the fatigue evident in your voice. “I'll handle it,” you whispered, your words carrying a hint of exhaustion.
Trying to make the serious mood a bit lighter, you couldn't resist adding a touch of playful sarcasm. “Well, maybe you should head out before your God buddy decides it's time to disappear once again.”
After saying goodbye to the Winchesters, you headed back to your bed. You didn't want to bother Castiel with your problems; you knew he had more important things to worry about than a grown-up hunter catching a simple cold.
As you entered your room, you couldn't help but grumble to yourself. Why did it seem like Sam and Dean never got sick? You were used to risking your life to hunt supernatural creatures, and now, on top of that, you had to deal with a fever. It just didn't seem fair. You plopped down on the edge of your bed, feeling frustrated. This illness was not only physically uncomfortable but also a reminder that even tough hunters like you had to face everyday human struggles.
Ridiculous, you thought.
You took a quick look on the mirror standing in the corner, then let out a sigh of annoyance and laid down on your bed, giving in to a sense of resignation. You didn't even notice when you drifted off to sleep.
Hours later, you slowly opened your eyes, hoping to find some relief from the persistent illness that had plagued you. However, as your vision cleared, you realized that you felt even worse than before. It was as if the fever had intensified during your restless slumber, wrapping you in a suffocating embrace.
With a groan of discomfort, you pushed yourself upright, your head pounding with every movement. The room seemed dimmer, and the last rays of daylight coming from the corridor appeared harsh and unforgiving. Your throat was parched, and your limbs felt heavy as if they were made of lead.
Casting a rueful glance at the clock, you realized that time had slipped away during your troubled nap. It was as though the fever had stolen not only your strength but also precious hours from your day.
You came close to grabbing your phone and calling Castiel, but you resisted, refusing to give in to a moment of vulnerability – or so you tried to convince yourself.
Struggling considerably, you managed to shift your legs off the bed and, with an effort that would make an elderly man with mobility issues proud, you stood up. Your own sigh of discomfort mirrored the sound one might expect from someone in such a situation. You briefly caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, mentally noting how pitiful you appeared, before making your way into the hallway, your feet dragging wearily behind you.
The bunker had settled into an eerie quietness, broken only by the weighty sound of your footsteps. As you made your way into the main room, your initial plan to head to the opposite corridor was interrupted by an abrupt rustling in a dimly lit corner of the space.
Your tired eyes strained to identify the source of this disturbance. Could it be a mere product of your fevered imagination? You wouldn't be surprised if your illness had started playing tricks on your mind. After all, nobody else was supposed to be allowed in the vast bunker.
And then, right there, bathed in the soft, muted glow of the bunker's emergency lighting, stood a figure you never anticipated encountering. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath caught in your throat, and your fever-addled brain could only muster one thought; Jack. Why was he here? What was happening? Wasn't he...?
“Jack?” you questioned hesitantly, your gaze darting around the room in search of some evidence that you were still ensnared in a dream.
The figure before you smirked. It wasn't the gentle, innocent smile of Jack. It was something darker, more twisted. Your fevered mind raced to find an explanation. Maybe it was the fever. Yes, that had to be it. You were conjuring this surreal scene in your delirium.
“Hello,” greeted the boy, lifting his right hand in a welcoming gesture, mirroring the way Jack used to.
Confusion knitted your brows as you unconsciously took a cautious step toward this familiar-looking stranger, clutching your blanket tightly around you. Your scrutiny intensified as you examined him closely. The person before you was dressed in the same attire as the last time you saw Jack, but it couldn't possibly be him. Jack Kline had met his demise, so why was he standing before you now?
Your gaze wandered to the sunglasses perched on the boy's face, and you couldn't help but shake your head with a hint of amusement. You swiftly turned away, fully convinced that your need for medication was far more pressing than entertaining these unsettling hallucinations. As you made your determined exit, you could almost hear a faint chuckle from behind you.
“Leaving so soon? And here I was, hoping for some company,” the boy, or rather, the entity inhabiting the boy's body, remarked with a sly grin, his voice dripping with faux disappointment. His sunglasses hid the fiery void that should have been his eyes, concealing his true nature as he attempted to blend in.
You paused, feeling an inexplicable mix of curiosity and unease. There was something off about this whole situation, and it wasn't just the fact that you were conversing with someone who looked like Jack but couldn't possibly be him. The aura this stranger exuded was friendly yet laced with an unsettling undercurrent of something more sinister.
“Why are you here?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to maintain composure.
The boy's smile widened, revealing a veneer of friendliness that barely concealed his sadistic amusement. “Oh, I was getting dreadfully bored down in Hell. Thought I'd stretch my legs, so to speak.”
His casual tone and the way he spoke about Hell as if it were a mundane inconvenience sent a shiver down your spine. This was no ordinary encounter, and you couldn't help but wonder if your fever had conjured up this bizarre scenario.
“I'm Belphegor,” the demon chimed in, noting your dubious expression. “Just a temporary tenant, you know? This body was basically vacant real estate, so I thought, 'Why not?' I mean, squatters' rights and all,” he quipped, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders as if discussing his choice of a new apartment. His grin remained as inscrutable as ever, a blend of friendly and utterly unsettling.
You couldn't help but raise an incredulous eyebrow at the demon's cavalier attitude. This was a new low, even for the world you lived in.
“Squatters' rights, huh?” you muttered, not sure whether to be amused or deeply disturbed by his casual demeanor. “Well, congratulations on your, uh, new accommodations.”
Belphegor chuckled, the sound a disconcerting blend of mirth and something far more alarming. “Thanks, I think it suits me. But, you know, I'm not all that bad once you get to know me,” he added with a wicked grin, as if trying to convince you that sharing a body with a demon was just a quirky and harmless coincidence.
Your instincts told you otherwise, and you couldn't help but wonder how deeply the Winchesters were embroiled in whatever bizarre deal this demon had cooked up.
“So, um,” you began, feeling a little like you were fumbling through a conversation with a distant relative you'd rather not acknowledge at a family reunion. The situation was beyond awkward, standing there face-to-face with a demon who had chosen to squat in a body you knew all too well. “Care for a drink?”
If you could, you would have rolled your eyes right then and there, but you had to maintain some semblance of composure. You knew you should be taking action, maybe calling the brothers or attempting to exorcise Belphegor, but your phone was conveniently left behind in your room, and it seemed that the universe had a thing against including demon-killing pockets in your pajamas.
Belphegor's lips curved into a wicked smile, his amusement clear despite the sunglasses concealing his eyes. “Well, aren't you the hospitable one,” he quipped, as if being invited for a drink by the friend of his borrowed body was a regular occurrence.
You couldn't help but chuckle nervously, the absurdity of the situation sinking in. “I figure if I can't beat the demon, I might as well join it for a drink,” you replied with a wry grin, attempting to keep things light, even though your mind was racing with thoughts of what to do next.
As you both made your way to the kitchen, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were walking on thin ice, navigating a situation that seemed to defy all logic. Sharing a drink with a demon in your pajamas was definitely not how you had planned to spend your day, but sometimes, but sometimes you had to improvise.
Entering the kitchen, you were determined to play it cool, all the while keeping a close eye on the boy. You grabbed a bottle of Dean's favorite liquor from the cabinet, figuring that if this was going to be a bizarre demon rendezvous, you might as well make it a memorable one.
“Here's to unexpected company,” you said with a somewhat forced cheerfulness as you poured two glasses, trying your best to hide the anxiety gnawing at your nerves.
Belphegor accepted the drink with a bemused nod, raising his glass in a mock toast. “To unlikely alliances,” he replied, his tone dripping with amusement.
While he was distracted with his drink, you seized the opportunity to grab a glass of water and discreetly pop a couple of fever-killing pills. You hoped that once the medication kicked in, the demon might just decide to take his leave, making this weird encounter nothing more than a fever-induced hallucination.
Sipping your water and pretending to engage in the odd conversation, you silently counted the minutes until the medication would hopefully bring some relief.
As the time passed, you couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was all too real. The fever medication had begun to work its magic, and you felt a wave of dizziness wash over you, courtesy of the combination of drugs and alcohol. Your head was spinning like a top, and you realized that your attempt to blend in and have a normal conversation with a demon was spiraling into absurdity.
“So,” you slurred slightly, trying to focus your blurry gaze on Belphegor, “what's it like down there in Hell? I mean, besides the whole eternal torment thing. Do you guys have, like, a book club or a knitting circle to pass the time?”
Belphegor raised an eyebrow, his amusement evident even through those opaque sunglasses. “Well, it's not all fire and brimstone, you know,” he replied with a mock-serious tone, playing along with your bizarre line of questioning. “We do have our demon potlucks, and occasionally, a game night with some fiendishly fun board games.”
You couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of demons huddled around a Monopoly board in Hell. The combination of fever-induced delirium and the surrealness of the situation had turned the conversation into a comical farce.
“What's your favorite board game, then?” you asked, leaning in closer as if discussing board games with a demon was the most normal thing in the world.
Belphegor chuckled, his sinister amusement undiminished. “Twister,” he replied with a sly grin, and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.
Lost in the absurdity of your conversation with the demon, you paid little attention to the strange sounds echoing through the bunker. It was as if the very walls were whispering secrets, and you chalked it up to your fevered imagination playing tricks on you.
Belphegor was in the middle of describing a particularly demon version of a summer vacation when a sudden, unexpected voice pierced through the haze of your conversation.
“Y/N” Castiel's deep voice resonated through the kitchen, his sudden appearance causing you to jump so violently that you almost knocked over your glass.
You turned to see Castiel standing in the entrance to the kitchen, his blue eyes penetrating the sunglasses-clad Belphegor with a steely gaze. The demon's expression shifted from amusement to surprise as he realized the presence of an angel.
“Castiel!” you exclaimed, your heart racing as you struggled to regain your composure. “I, uh, didn't expect to see you here.”
Belphegor's amusement seemed to wane as he met Castiel's unwavering gaze. The room fell silent, and the atmosphere shifted from surreal absurdity to a tense standoff between angel and demon.
“What does this supposed to mean?” Castiel asked, his voice steady as he approached the countertop where you were seated, sliding a blade out of his sleeve.
You quickly rose from your seat, wanting to calm the situation. The absurdity of the situation, in which you, in a pink blanket, wanted to defend a demon who could kill you with a snap of your fingers, did not reach you.
“That's Belphegor,” you stammered, your voice wavering as confusion and uncertainty welled up. You realized you had no real justification for the demon's visit. “I-I have no idea why he's here, but he's... uh, he's cool.” Trying to defend the demon only earned you doubtful glances from both Castiel and Belphegor, making this already weird situation even more confusing.
“I've got an offer that might catch the Winchesters' attention,” the demon said as he stepped forward from behind you.
Castiel's expression darkened as he confronted the demon, anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Taking Jack's body... this is desecration,” he hissed, his voice carrying the weight of his disapproval. The angel's gaze bore into Belphegor, as if willing him to understand the gravity of his actions.
You stepped in between the two, desperately trying to ease the mounting tension. “Look, I know this is... complicated,” you began, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of the situation. “But maybe Belphegor has something important. We should hear him out before we jump to conclusions.”
Belphegor, for his part, maintained his sly grin, unfazed by Castiel's anger. “I'm just a demon trying to make the best of my situation,” he chimed in, his tone almost cheerful. “Besides, the vessel was just sitting there, collecting dust. I thought it could use some fresh air, you know.”
Castiel clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to contain his frustration. “It's not about the vessel, it's about respect and dignity.”
Before Castiel could retort further, the kitchen door swung open, and Sam and Dean walked in. Their faces registered a mix of surprise and confusion as they took in the scene before them. The room was filled with a charged silence, broken only by the creak of the door.
“What's going on in here?” Dean finally asked, breaking the awkward standoff. His gaze shifted from you to Castiel and then to Belphegor, who was still wearing that boyish grin beneath those stupid sunglasses.
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animasola86 · 3 months
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2: A Special Guest
This is a rather unusual story about a girl (reader) who comes across a special little friend that she likes very, very much. But does she love it more than she loves her boyfriend (Sebastian)?
Notes: This time, Sebastian goes skinny dipping with his girlfriend, but the Black Lake doesn't seem to be the best place to do so. Not that they care. Not yet...
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader Genre: Smut // Words: 2.9k // [READ ON AO3]
WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Underwater sex! Fingering! (Additional tags on AO3!) Read at your own risk!
← CHAPTER 1 - // - CHAPTER 3 →
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2
One month ago
“Sebastian! Come on!” you call to him as you wade through the knee-deep water of the lake, a cool breeze causing goosebumps to ripple over your bare skin.
You can hear his heavy footsteps and the splashing of water behind you, and as you turn around to him with a laugh, you see him begrudgingly following you, the muscles in his body tense, but that's not your focus point as you watch him joining you in the rather cold water.
A smirk breaks from your lips as you meet his hated gaze, though that's everything that's warm about him as it seems. He catches up with you, and you quickly wrap your arms around his waist and pull his chest against yours. His dark eyes bore into yours. “Don't say a word,” he hisses, and you chuckle deeply before you press your lips to his.
“Don't worry,” you whisper against his mouth, winking at him as one of your hands moves between your bodies and gently closes around his not-at-all-cold-resistent cock. He groans quietly at your warm touch. “I know a magic trick that can make it bigger...”
He rolls his eyes and gives you an exasperated sigh before he grins at you. “Why are we here anyway?” he whispers. “When we could cuddle on the couch in the Undercroft and do other things?”
“Because you promised to take me skinny dipping!” you reply and plant a series of light kisses on his cheek and down his jaw as you keep pumping your hand around him.
His breath hitches. “I never did such a thing!” he protests, faking indignation. “Seriously though, you know I hate the lake.”
You look up at him with a soft smile. “I know, love, because you fell in in your first year,” you coo, almost mockingly. “That's so long ago, though. You have to face your fear eventually.”
“Do you know what lives in this lake?” he goes on, his hands resting on your waist as he squeezes it lightly.
“A lot of magical creatures?” you reply with a soft chuckle. “Are you afraid of mermaids?”
“Have you seen mermaids? Those things are terrifying!” he retorts, shivering visibly.
“You've seen a mermaid before?” you ask with your eyebrows rising.
“Well, not a live one, but those statues in the Slytherin common room have given me nightmares since the day I first saw them.”
You laugh, but he shakes his head.
“Honestly, it's not even the Merpeople I'm wary about. There are Grindylows and Plimpies and Kelpies and oh, the Giant Squid! And probably bigger and also much smaller things I can't even name off the top of my head. The lake is full of life, and we certainly shouldn't be here to disturb it!”
Patting his back with a deep sigh, you tilt your head. “It's just a little bath, we don't have to dive down to the bottom, you know?”
He exhales loudly and stares at you, but then steps back and grabs your wrist, prying your hand away from his cock before he pulls you along as he starts to wade deeper into the water. “Let's stay near the cliffs, we should be safe there,” he says, and you follow him with a short giggle as you look up at the castle looming above you on its rock formation.
Once the ground suddenly drops, you find yourself floating on the surface, kicking your legs and moving your arms before you take long strokes through the water, inhaling deeply, holding your breath, feeling the cold of the air and the lake seeping into your limbs.
It feels amazing after having to sit in classrooms and the library for hours on end, forcing more and more information into your already overwhelmed head. Exams are no fun, so you've decided to ask your boyfriend of two years to join you for a quick and refreshing dip, and even though he has been apprehensive from the beginning, the prospect of being naked with you seemed to have convinced him in the end.
You turn onto your back and float on the surface, your chest poking through the water, your breasts spilling over your chest. You see him watching you as he swims closer until he mirrors your pose, his hand outstretched to touch yours as you both drift on the gentle current, staring up at the blue sky above. Slipping your fingers between his, you inhale deeply and close your eyes.
“This is nice,” you breathe out as he squeezes your hand softly and hums in response. You kick your legs lazily, feeling the water splash around your limbs, pooling on your stomach, caressing you with gentle waves.
You're completely relaxed, listening to the birds singing in the nearby trees, the seagulls screaming overhead, the gentle sway of the water as it hits the shore and retreats again, the hypnotising murmur of the lake below you.
And suddenly you hear Sebastian yelping in surprise. As you open your eyes lazily, you see him splashing about hectically, hitting at the water as if he is fighting an invisible enemy.
“What are you doing?” you ask with a grin, not leaving your position, only turning your head.
“Something brushed against my leg,” he says frantically, his brown eyes wide. You laugh loudly, and he stares at you darkly. With a sigh, you slip from your floating position and slowly swim towards him until your hands find his shoulders.
“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “I should be more supportive, hm?”
You lean in and kiss his cheek, your lips lingering on his wet skin, tasting the tang of the lake and the salt of his sweat. Your arms wrap around his neck as you press yourself against him while he struggles to remain afloat. His hands find your waist while your legs keep touching as you both tread water.
“Let's get out of here,” he says softly, almost pleadingly, but there is a heat burning in his dark eyes. You bite your lip and nod before you look around and gently push him towards a rock jutting out of the water. The shore is too far away and frankly, you don't like engaging in any sort of physical activity on the sand anyway as it gets everywhere.
So you opt to push him against the rock, the ground still too deep for you to reach but he manages to stand on it, even if his shoulders barely break the surface as he does. He grabs your waist and spins you around until your back is pressed against the stone, then he wraps your legs around his hips and holds you upright with his hands firmly planted on your bum.
Your fingers dig into his hair as you lean closer, eager to claim his mouth for a searing kiss that he meets with the same passion that burns through your own core. Your heart accelerates, your breath quickens, the cold air teases your warm skin in a way that makes you shiver deeply. Your lips close around his, your tongue eagerly pushing into his mouth to be met by his own before they engage in a wild dance.
You feel dizzy and light-headed, completely forgetting where you are if not for the gentle waves splashing against your entangled bodies. One of his hands moves around your bum cheek, teasing at your folds, and you gasp softly into his mouth when he slips a finger into your entrance, teasingly poking, then adds another, more teasingly spreading them inside you. You are focused on the kiss that's messy and hungry and so distracting you don't notice something (that's not Sebastian) brushing against your skin.
He keeps fingering you, changing the position of his hand to be able to press his thumb against your clit while he pushes three digits into your depths, widening your tight entrance for what's to come. You can feel his erection hardening against your stomach, glad the cold water didn't affect it too much after all. A bigger wave splashes against his shoulders, spraying water into your heated face, and you let out a surprised yelp when something colder, like a current, surrounds your body.
Unlike last time, he doesn't seem to mind it as he keeps kissing you, with his tongue invading your mouth as eagerly as his fingers dip into your core. When he retreats his digits eventually, your walls clench around nothing, and it feels as if they're sucking in the water. Your stomach tenses up as he leans away a little, pushing you to the rock with one hand while he grips his cock with the other, and you loosen the grip of your legs around him to scoot back enough for him to be able to enter you.
His eyes are dark as he watches you while he presses his tip firmly against your folds before he slips in with ease, your muscles relaxed from his ministrations and the water surrounding you. A deep moan escapes you as you lace your fingers around his neck, moving your hips slowly with him to help him in driving his length as deeply into you as possible. Once he's sheathed all the way inside you, a shiver runs through your body as his tip prods against your cervix, seemingly tickling your deepest spot, almost pinching it.
His hands return to grab your bum cheeks as he leans in to claim your mouth for a heated kiss, and you return it with fervour, deepening it with your tongue eagerly pressing against his. During your kiss, he starts moving his hips, retreating slowly before plunging back in with a force that makes you gasp into his mouth. His fingers dig into your soft flesh, guiding your body towards him as he pushes upwards, hips slamming together underwater, causing waves to ripple around you, water splashing against your bodies and the rock with every rapid snap of his pelvis.
You groan and moan together, unable to leave the other's lips as he picks up his pace slightly, your walls clenching around him, sucking him in only to ache whenever he pulls back. His thrusts are deep and deliberate, slowed by the density of the water, yet every stab feels as if he's trying to split you in two. You arch your head back, finally breaking the kiss as your mouth falls open to let a series of drawn-out whimpers tumble from your swollen lips.
The coil in your gut tightens as he keeps plunging deep and pulling out almost all the way before repeating it over and over again, slow and deliberate, forceful and with a strength that makes your thighs twitch, the repetitive motion causing your walls to burn despite the water lubricating them.
Your head starts spinning as your muscles starts contracting, tightening around his hard member, and once he notices the strain on your body, he moves faster, pistoning in and out, pushing your back against the rock with every motion, not caring about scraping your skin, though neither do you, as his quicker pace drives you towards heights you haven't expected to reach this fast.
You moan louder, quicker, your heart hammering inside your chest as your fingers dig into his wet locks, your body tensing up under his relentless assault. Each stroke sends shivers down your spine, each deep plunge is like a small lightning bolt crashing through your nerves, each thrust makes stars dance behind the eyelids of your tightly squeezed shut eyes.
Your whimpers are as erratic as your breaths, met by his deep grunts and strained groans as he holds his fast and steady rhythm until he can feel your walls clamping down on him hard, yet he keeps going, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you start to convulse against him.
The coil inside your stomach tightens, tightens more, and then, it explodes with a force that makes you cry out loudly, your voice carried away by the soft breeze, as your orgasm crashes through you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced. Lights flash in front of your eyes, your limbs twitch uncontrollably, the movements of your body no longer in your power as you cling to Sebastian as if your life depended on it, as if you would be dragged away into the current if you wouldn't sink your nails into his shoulders.
Your orgasmic contractions make him stutter, his hands desperately gripping your bum cheeks as he presses you against the rock, trying to hold on as his own orgasm hits him with almost the same force. He groans loudly into your ear, his warm mouth pressed to your shoulder before he sinks his teeth into your skin as you feel his cock twitching inside you after he finally stills his rapid pace, buried deep within your tight spasming walls as he paints your insides with his thick seed.
You moan under the combination of sensations, your arms wrapped around his neck, your legs holding him like a vice as you keep him sheathed within you, your hearts beating frantically against each other. The shudders subside slowly, though occasionally you feel something like a pinch inside you, causing you to shiver all over again. You imagine it's his cock twitching, leaking the last drops of cum into you, as his body relaxes against yours.
Eventually you regain your composure as your limbs react to your commands again, and you loosen the tight grip of your legs around him, allowing him to lean back and slip out of your warmth. Your walls clench around his seed trying to seep out and the water trying to seep in, the mixture of warm and cold essences causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin. He releases your bum, and you're sure you'll have his hand imprints burned into your skin as a long reminder of your passionate experience.
You let your legs slip away from him, sinking deeper until your toes touch the ground beneath you, your chin tilted up as the water splashes against your face. You relax your sore muscles in the cold water while you look up at him. He smiles at you as he grabs your face gently, keeping you afloat and standing while simultaneously holding you still so he can claim your trembling lips for a sweet, slow kiss that takes your breath away all the same. Your hands grip his waist as you pull him against you, your bodies smacking together under the surface once more.
“I guess I can add one thing to the list of why the Black Lake isn't so bad after all,” he whispers hoarsely as he breaks the kiss to catch his breath.
You laugh softly, submerging your mouth to ease the burning of your swollen lips before you lean back up to kiss him again, water splashing around you as you throw yourself against him. He grabs one of your legs and hooks it around his hip as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold current brushing against your heated centre again, a welcome refreshment after the exhausting rubbing and clenching, and you could swear you could still feel his cock twitching inside you even though it brushes against your stomach now, spent and relaxed.
You don't pay it any mind as you kiss him hungrily, rubbing your pelvis into his almost needily. He groans into your mouth, looking at you out of hooded eyes, before he complies and brings his hand back to your folds, gently caressing them before dipping his fingers back into your warmth. As he curls them inside you, you gasp against his lips, your eyes flying open as a deep shudder jolts through your body. As expertly as he usually fingers you, always finding the right spot to stimulate, you feel as if there's something else pressing against your walls, adding to the sensation.
Your breath quickens, and you can barely think about it as you come around his fingers once more, completely overwhelmed by the sudden orgasm piercing through your nerves. Tumbling against his chest, you hold onto him breathlessly, too light-headed to wonder about anything at this point. Your muscles contract, and he keeps stroking your insides with his fingertips, what he usually does to ease you down from your high, but this time it feels as if he's only pushing you further, up and up, the gentle touch too much to handle as you keep whimpering helplessly under the constant strain to your muscles.
It's when you feel both of his hands on your cheeks that your eyes fly open in slight shock, because the teasing continues inside your walls as if his fingers were still in your warmth. Your eyes wander over his freckled face, and for a moment you want to share your concern, but then you just press your lips together and smile bravely, silently enjoying the echoes of his touch – or at least you think, and hope, that's what it is.
He kisses you softly. “Are you okay?” he whispers as your body is still tense and shaking in his hold.
You nod, unable to trust your voice so you keep quiet as the sensations within your core continue to pulse through you. Luckily you're still submerged in the water, so the twitching of your limbs isn't as noticeable. He watches you closely out of dark eyes before he scoops you up into his arms and starts carrying you through the deep water towards the shore. You wrap one arm around his neck and lean against him, your other hand on your stomach. A sudden shiver makes you gasp, and even more so when you feel something pushing against your palm – from inside your body.
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← CHAPTER 1 - // - CHAPTER 3 →
Notes: Body horror incoming? Maybe! Stay tuned! And thank you for reading!
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[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]
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tojiscumdumpster · 4 months
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CHAPTER TWELVE - TOJI
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page
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 Something fucking hits my chest hard when I watch Y/N from afar, waiting for me by the sit-down restaurant where we agreed to meet. 
 She’s just casually sitting there, scrolling through her phone with a soft smile on her face, and I could bet money that she’s watching animal videos. Something I learned about her. Fucking obsessed that woman is. 
 I’ve never had social media before meeting Y/N, but I solely made an account so she could send me those videos of owners washing their dogs or naked cats fighting each other. 
 But what I’m feeling right now is burning the living shit out of my body… in a good way.
 We’d video chat a couple of times throughout the week, and if our schedules align, meet up on the weekends. I know what Y/N looks like. Her face is engraved in my head. But right now while I’m looking at her, I can get over how fucking pretty she is.
 The fresh loose braids that fall to the tip of her ass. The natural glow she has when she sits under the sun, bringing out the brown of her complexion. The fucking floral-printed dress she’s wearing that she sent me a photo of this morning that had me ripping the skin off my cock, holding tight around her waist and flowing down a little past her knees. 
 Everything.
 Everything about Y/N is fucking perfect. 
 Perfection is a myth. A bullshit concept, but for her it’s not.
 Can’t think of a single flaw when it comes to that woman.
 She’s too good.
 For me.
 That’s what my mind will always tell me, and I’ll believe that shit, too.
 When she finds out the real me, she’ll leave. Probably forget we ever happened. Still, the time she’s giving me now, I’ll take it.
 Like on cue, feeling someone staring at her like a damn creep, she looks up at me and holds contact. That huge fucking smile that spreads across her pretty lips has me thinking when was the last time someone was that excited to see me?
 Fushiguro, what the fuck? Why would you care? 
 I don’t. At least, that’s what I’m trying to convince myself. 
 It’s just a nice feeling to have, alright?
 I start walking toward Y/N and she closes the distance by throwing herself at me. Her arms wrap around my neck, and I fold one of my own around Y/N’s waist to squeeze her tight against my body. 
 So damn sweet she smells. Always like vanilla and warm berries. And soft, comforting, even. It feels almost too domestic to kiss her neck repeatedly, but I do it anyways because it’s fucking addicting. 
 “Hi, big guy.”
 “You okay?” She nods, giving me a kiss on the cheek. “You look beautiful, sweets.”
 She pulls apart from my embrace, but keeps her arms around my neck and looks at me, bashful as shit. “Thank you.”
 I pull Y/N back to me and kiss her. It’s like she was waiting for that because the minute my lips are on hers, she relaxes. 
 The taste of her mango flavored gloss lingers on me.
 No tongue. No lip biting. Just a kiss that felt warmer than our other ones.
 She grabs my face to peck my lips back to back until she feels content, and honestly, I didn’t want her to stop.
 Not when she tastes that fucking good.
 PDA isn’t my thing. I actually hate it. Y/N just makes it hard for me.
 Managing to keep my hands to myself when I see her is like expecting pigs to fly, knowing that shit wouldn’t happen. 
 “I know you feel my dick pressing against you,” I rasped. Because the more she keeps kissing me like that, the more tempted I am to fuck her.
 “Maybe I enjoy taunting you? Never crossed your mind that I’m a sadist?” She asks, teasingly.
 “You? A high school teacher?”
 “Being a high school teacher is my seven to three activities, Mr. Fushiguro. After hours is a different story.”  The sexy smile and wink she flashes me has my cock throbbing even harder than before. A fucking minx Y/N is. 
 The day I do fuck her, I’ll make her regret teasing me like this, but a slap on her ass to help that cute yelp will do. 
 After we sat down, the server came over with water and took our orders.  Our conversation was comfortable while waiting for our meals. I split my attention between listening to Y/N and being lost in my thoughts. 
 Hanging out with her feels good. Always does, but it feels so fucking foreign yet familiar. 
 I don’t do this. 
 I don’t invite women out to lunch or other dates. Don’t sit on the phone with them for hours or video chat in silence just to feel their presence while they’re grading high school papers. 
 I don’t have the urge to kiss them every damn second of the day. And I definitely don’t stare at them with a goofy smile on my face, either. 
 But I do with Y/N. Everything about her, us being around each other, feels too fucking intimate. 
 Like how she giggles while swiping the crumbs off the corner of my mouth or me calling her adorable whenever she shies away from my compliments. 
 Her playing with my hair while talking to me. It’s too fast. We’re too fast. 
 Maybe I should step back a little. Can’t grow attached because I know all this is temporary. 
 Everything good is. 
 You unlovable child. 
 Yeah, I know. The Zen’in made sure to remind me every fucking day. 
 “Toji?” Y/N calls for me, sounding like it was her third time trying to get my attention. “You okay, big guy? You zoned out on me for a second.”
 I shake from my musings and clear my throat. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
 “Then you should’ve stayed home and got some rest.” Her voice is soft when speaking to me. She doesn’t seem bothered from my horrible excuse to why I’m tired (I’m not). 
 Just pure concern. 
 “Nah, I’ll be fine. Wanted to see you, plus I think the kid would appreciate having me out the house.”
 “How is everything going with Megumi? Still rocky?”
 I chuckle. “Like walking on fucking eggshells.”
 Y/N rests her chin on her hand and gives a reassuring smile, still playing with my hair. “He’ll come through, Toji.”
 “Why are you so positive about it? Me and Megumi’s relationship?” 
 “Hm, because he’s a good kid and I know you’re trying to be active in his life,” she answers. “Yeah, he got suspended from school because he was fighting. And honestly, I shouldn’t be saying this as a teacher, but the reason for the fight was… valid? Or should I say understandable?”
 I raise my brows with a teasing smirk. “Miss L /N? Advocating for teens fighting?”
 “No, silly.” She returns the banter, rolling her eyes at me. “I’m just saying I see your protective nature passed down to him.”
 I quip a brow, confused. “Yeah?”
 “Mhm, one of his classmates was being picked on by the seniors and Megumi defended him. Well, I suppose calling them friends wouldn’t be far-fetched.” The shocked look on my face has Y/N just as confused. “What?”
 “He left out the part where he defended his friend.”
 “Really? What did he tell you?” 
 I throw my head back and laugh, running my hand through my hair. “That they were making fun of his English. You know he’s trying his damn hardest to convince me he doesn’t have friends?”
 Oh, I’m definitely going to hound the kid now with this new piece of information. To make it even better, Y/N tells he has three friends he sticks with throughout school. 
 Why does this shock me? Because my fifteen-year-old boy is finally making friends. A little sign to show that he won’t be a fuck up like me. 
 Didn’t have any myself when I was in school. Those Zen’in fucks were proud to make me their punching bag. It even spread around the school I went to, so no one wanted to be around me.
 Like I gave a fuck. I eventually dropped out anyway. 
 But Megumi? It’s my job as his parent to make sure he doesn’t experience the same shit I went through. He wasn’t always an introverted or shy kid. 
 When it was me, him, and his mother, he was always animated. Gave me a hard time, but always made sure to show affection to his old man. 
 Papa, carry me on your back!
 Love you, too, Papa.
 Papa… Ha, can’t remember the last time I heard him call me that. 
 Nostalgia weighs heavily on me. 
 Guess I should be grateful he still calls me Dad, at least. 
 The weight of Y/N’s stare reminds me I’m not alone. Big brown, glossy doe eyes casting the softest while looking at me. She must’ve noticed the strained expression on my face. 
 My response would be I don’t need pity, but that’s not the face she’s giving me. 
 I grabbed her chin and leaned forward to kiss her lips, groaning upon contact because she’s has the softest and sweetest mouth I ever fucking tasted. 
 A pleasurable sigh escapes her nose while our mouths become acquainted with each other, but I pull back before it deepens. 
 An old fucking pervert like me getting hard at a deli restaurant ‘cuz he’s kissing an outrageously hot woman? Yeah, calm down, big guy. 
 “I’m fine, sweets,” I reassure, answering her unspoken question before we kissed. “Just nice knowing he’s making friends.”
 “I know.” Y/N rubs the right side of my mouth where my scar sits, something she does a lot to comfort me. But never once has she asked me how it got there.
 Maybe she’s just waiting for me to open up. 
 Maybe one day I will. 
 Her phone timer goes off and she groans. “That hour went by way too fast.”
 “Too late to call in sick?” I teased.
 “Yeah, I think I’m about five hours too late.”
 We enjoy some more conversation while we wait for the server to come back with the bill. 
 But the second I was about to say some perverted joke to Y/N, some fucker interrupts us. 
 “Y/N?”
 She looks up to see who’s calling her and the smile that was on her face drops like she drank sour milk. 
 “Ken? I mean, Principal Nanami. What are you doing here?”
 Principal Nanami? You mean the jackass who submitted her name to that summit crap? Her fucking ex? My posture immediately becomes rigid and I let out a deep breath. 
 I don’t know this fucker from a can of paint, but I know enough from Y/N what told me, and let’s just say I’m not a fan. 
 She never badmouthed him. Y/N isn’t that type of woman. She loves hard because even with the heartbreak he caused her, she still finds a way to stay positive.
 Not me, though. Last thing I want to hear from her is how some motherfucker broke her heart because he didn’t give her the time that she deserved. 
 And if you think I’m supposed to give a damn that he’s the principal at my kid’s school, I don’t. 
 My fist is itching to connect to his face, especially when I see the motherfucker checking her out with the eyes only another perverted ass man like me would know. 
 Y/N notices the change in my demeanor, so she begins talking to relieve the tension and silence in the air the moment her ex felt comfortable coming up to us.
 Us…
 “Uhm, are you grabbing lunch?” She asks, nervously. 
 Not nervous like she’s been caught doing something she isn’t supposed to do. But nervous because she knows her ex is on my shit list. 
 One thing I can say about him is that he has balls. He feels my glare piercing his skull, but instead of avoiding it, we have a stare down. 
 “Yes,” he answers, still looking at me. “Appears that you’re leaving? You were on your free hour?”
 “Yeah. About to head back now.” She stands up and runs her hands down her dress to smooth out any wrinkles. And it only gave her ex a better look at her appearance. 
 That’s when the stare down ended. 
 “You look lovely. I’ve always admired that color on you,” he admits, like I’m not fucking here. 
 This motherfucker is really testing my patience.
 Before she responded, I stood up and interrupted. “Everything’s okay?”
 “Why wouldn’t it be?” He asks.
 I shrug, fisting my hands in my pockets.  “Don’t know much about manners, but it makes sense to speak to everyone in a setting you entered.”
 Like I give a fuck about manners. But he has another fucking thing come if he thinks he’ll talk to Y/N without addressing me. 
 “Oh,” he chuckles. “My apologies. Nanami Kento.” And offers a handshake, which I ignored.
 “Fushiguro.”
 “Hm.” His attention returns to Y/N. “Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the teacher’s summit. If you could stop by my office after you’re done with your classes for the day.”
 “Alright,” she deadpans. 
 “Well, I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Enjoy the rest of your hour.” Is all he says before walking inside of the restaurant. 
 Annoyance still rolls off my skin even after the fucker, but Y/N laces her fingers with mine, and surprisingly enough, I calm down.
 “That was awkward, wasn’t it?” I know her question was rhetorical. A way to lighten the mood, however, I answered it anyway.
 “No. I wanted to punch him.”
 She lets out a short giggle and shifts her weight onto one leg. “You can’t punch my boss, Toji.”
 “Boss? No. Ex? Yes.”
 “Whatever. Come on before I’m late.” Y/N began pulling me toward the street before the waiter came back, so I left enough cash to cover for food and tip.
 We walk in a comfortable silence to her car, and it’s something I appreciate. 
 I’ll never get tired of listening to Y/N’s voice. It’s calming. But just having her next to me is enough. Hand holding and all. 
 Didn’t take us long to get to her car and it made me fucking wish she parked farther. 
 “Thank you for lunch. That spot is good,” she says, breaking the silence. Y/N takes out her keys to unlock her door and I open it for her. Before she gets in, she turns to look at me. “Sorry… You know… about earlier.”
 “Why are you saying sorry?”
 “I don’t know. He was-”
 “Any fucker would act like that if they saw their ex that they clearly miss out with another guy,” I interrupted. “Me? Probably would’ve sat down and crashed your date.”
 She shakes her head, smiling. “Remind me to never break up with you.” And immediately she realizes what slipped past her mouth, trying to clean it up. “Uh, I don’t mean break up. I mean, uhm… whatever is going on between us… you and me.”
 Us.
 You and me. 
 “Yeah, whatever is going on between us,” I mock softly with a small smile on my face. “Text me when you made it safe.”
 For a quick second, something changed. Y/N looks down and tucks a braid behind her ear, fumbling with her keys. Maybe she’s overthinking the breaking up comment. 
 Yeah, it threw me off, but I can’t blame her for thinking we’re together seeing how fast we’re moving.
 Sometimes I forget my damn self. 
 She needs reassurance, and of course my words are stuck in my fucking head. So I do the next thing I think would help. 
 I tipped her chin upwards and kissed her. Usually I kiss Y/N hard. Libido driven. Aggressively with the intent to make her know how badly I want to fuck her. But right now, I kiss her softly. With tenderness and longing. 
 Kissing Y/N will always give me that burn I crave whenever I need to clear my mind. 
 I sound sappy as shit, I know.
 Only for her. 
 “Text me when you made it safe. Alright?” I repeated.
 “Alright,” she answers softly with a tiny smile. 
 I give her a quick kiss on the temple and tap her ass. She shoots me a playful glare that makes me chuckle.  
 Been doing a lot of that ever since I met Y/N. 
 The only fear in my soul is to lose Megumi because he’s all I have left. But these feelings that’s been brewing in my gut about Y/N these past six weeks are scaring the living shit out of me. 
 I was convinced I couldn’t feel this way anymore, that all my ounce of decency and love I had was buried with my wife. Yet here I am, liking another woman. Probably fucking more than that. 
 And I can’t keep saying I don’t know Y/N.
 Because I do know her.
 Just don’t know from where.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER
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things are finally starting to pick up. i hope you guys are still with me. thank you for reading. i would love to hear your thoughts. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ♡
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pinkykats-place · 2 months
Text
Bungo Stray Dogs BL Fic Recs
Archive of our own
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Disclaimers!
None of the stories linked are mine.
Some contain mature content.
Read tags. Check Ratings.
GIF not mine.
Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!
Dragonfruit by CheeseSandwjch
Summary: Akutagawa shows up at Atsushi’s house injured from a mission; Atsushi takes care of him.
{One Shot}
Rated - Teen & Up
Of Pinot and Patience by ChaoticQuill
Summary: In the morning hours after a night with Dazai, Chuuya finds himself addled by doubts that he'll be left behind again. Dazai, in an uncharacteristic move, offers to be patient.
— — —
Or: Chuuya worries Dazai is going to leave him, and they decide not to have sex again until Chuuya has overcome those doubts. Hilarity ensues.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
I'll call your name by caramelt
Summary: “Of all places to discuss the case,” Atsushi said as they made their way back to the busy crowd, voice getting louder with every step as he fought to compete with the noise around them. He had finished his chazuke not long ago. “Why a summer festival?”
“Has it not occurred to you that I'm taking you out on a date?”
Oh. Oh.
 — — —
Basically Akutagawa and Atsushi get together fluff.
{One Shot}
Rated - Teen & Up
I Love You (deeply) by SapphireSunstone
Summary: Akutagawa almost wishes he hadn’t heard it.
He wishes that there wasn’t another figure pressed up against him underneath his own bedsheets. Wishes that he hadn’t invited Atsushi to stay for the night when he realised how dark it had gotten. Wishes he hadn’t opened the door when the were-tiger had knocked.
Because now he has to deal with this.
{One Shot}
Rated - General Audiences
With the Warmth of Your Arms, you Saved Me by Glenraven
Summary: Atsushi sputtered, eyes widened and cheeks red. Ryuu could practically watch his brain malfunctioning at the nickname. Since he was still wearing his shirt, he summoned a few tendrils of Rashoumon and had them wrap loosely around Atsushi’s wrists.
“Can you keep them there for me, sweetie?” he smiled. “I need the use of both my hands to worship you.”
Atsushi simply nodded, tugging lightly at the restraints to test their give. He could have easily ripped through them, but Ryuu knew that he liked the resistance and needed the reminder. He tended to have trouble keeping his hands off of Ryuu, and though Ryuu preened at being so irresistible, sometimes he really did like his dessert to sit quietly.
_______
Ryuu makes it very clear to Atsushi how much he treasures him.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
Unexpected Heat by Princess_Cherry
Summary: Akutagawa almost never even got his heat, Mori and Yosano agree that the cause is a combination of his sickness and his malnutrition as a child, his body couldn’t afford to have his heat often but once in a blue moon he got his heat and no one was ever ready for it
———————-
In which Akutagawa goes into unexpected heat and his mates need to be there for him.
One Shot | OmegaVerse
Rated - Explicit
Love to spare by Princess_Cherry
Summary: Dazai smiled, he felt blessed to have these three people in his life.
He really had love to spare. 
— — —
In which Akutagawa, Atsushi, Chuuya and Dazai celebrate their 2nd anniversary, it starts wholesome but quickly turns steamy.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
Pretty Kitty by scribespirare
Summary: Certain things make Atsushi...well, lose control, so to speak.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
electric by quitepossiblyjanuary
Summary: They're always a little sloppy, but it's one of Atsushi's favorite parts about them, that messiness. He loves the feeling of Akutagawa's nose squished up against his face, changing every few minutes because Akutagawa likes to tilt his head this way and that, testing which angle is best for sliding his tongue against Atsushi's lips. He loves the feeling of Akutagawa's lips slipping and catching on his chin, his cheeks, as they blindly move their mouths against each other, eyes closed and too happy to care about neatness.
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
Something, Somehow by the_cricket
Summary: Atsushi doesn't meet Dazai by the river, and he doesn't join the agency. He saves himself from starving and figures out how to live, but he still ends up involved with both the Port Mafia and the ADA. Also, it's silly.
Complete | 3 Chapters
Rated - General Audiences
Be Good by orphan_account
Summary: It came out more or less by accident.
--------
“Are you okay, Ryuu?” Atsushi’s concerned voice finally broke the silence that had descended on the table.
“Oh I think Ryuu is much better than okay,” Dazai answered for him, glancing at Atsushi out of the corner of his eye before returning his attention to the man in front of him. “Could it be that our little Ryuunosuke likes it when we tell him just how good he is?”
{One Shot}
Rated - Explicit
Pet-a-cat, pet-a-cat, mafia man by amythecinnabunny
Summary: Nakajima Atsushi has this nifty little trick where he turns into a cat to offer comfort to people. Somehow, it leads to dating Nakahara Chuuya — after an accidental Italian vacation, that is.
{One Shot}
Rated - General Audiences
Hidden Colors by we_burnin_shit_yo
Summary: Atsushi brings in a pouch of fingernail polishes and Chuuya proceeds to do their nails while Dazai and Akutagawa hang out in the kitchen for food before joining their boyfriends which results in a fluffy polysoukoku evening.
{One Shot}
Rated - n/a
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cupid-styles · 5 months
Note
omg ok so blurb idea for ginger ale bc u said u needed inspo
i know u kinda already touched up on this in the main story but what if mias like completely drained from school like its exam season and she has to study but shes also somehow failing classes even tho she studied and is swamped with work but cant get up to do anything bc shes panicking and stuff and idk maybe she pushes him away bc shes freaked out and hes like huh bc she never snaps at him like that bla bla and then some angst and fluff and comfort 😭
im so sorry this wasnt supposed to be that long but inspiration struck😭💀obviously u dont have to write it jus a suggestion
omg LOVE THIS!!!!! here's a little something for you :))
word count: 1.7k
content warnings: angst (all is solved in the end), harry being a dummy, age gap romance (8 years)
based on this one-shot!
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Harry has never seen Mia so exhausted before.
Granted, they've only been officially dating for a few months, but she's typically a relatively organized student. It's something that he's always admired about her — he can think back to his days in university and immediately remembers scattered deadlines and far too many hungover mornings, resulting in constantly missing classes.
Then again, he's never seen her during finals season, and it's apparent that she's feeling the impact of papers, exams, and one too many late nights spent studying.
Because of the nature of their lives, finding time to spend with one another without work or school is often difficult. It's important to Harry that they actively set aside an evening or two each week that's just for them. No discussion of board meetings, lectures, or any stressors — he likes to keep it simple with a delicious and filling meal, a movie on the TV (whether or not they watch it is a separate factor), and his girl nestled into his side.
But for the first time ever, Mia's texting him to cancel.
Under any other ordinary circumstance, he'd be more understanding. Truly. But it's been almost a week since he's seen her, and he's feeling... well, needy. He misses her! And he knows that distance is good, blah blah blah, but this is their time — and it feels like she's just brushing him off, as if he barely matters.
It's why he ends up calling her on his way home from work with Reese driving smoothly and calmly up in the front. Harry drums his fingers against his knee as he listens to the dial tone, a frown on his lips as he waits for her to answer.
"Hello?"
Relief washes over his chest despite her anxiety-ridden tone. "Hey, I'm heading home from work. Do you want me to have Reese come pick you up?"
She sighs frustratedly, "Harry, I just texted you that I can't come over tonight. I have to study."
"You can't give up a few hours to spend with your boyfriend?" he fires back, an accusatory edge to his voice, "I've barely seen you lately."
"You've been in school before, H, you know how stressful exams season is. I need to do well."
"Mi, you're the smartest person I know, you'll be fine if you take some time away from—"
"I won't be, actually," she suddenly snaps. "I'm already failing one of my most important classes and if I don't get at least a B+ on the final, I'll have to retake it next semester. So no, I can't just slack off for a few hours, I need to study, Harry."
Immediately, he pauses. Mia has never gotten angry with him before, vice versa. And he doesn't think he's being particularly unreasonable — if anything, he feels she is — but he's mature enough to know that nothing's getting solved in this conversation. Not when she's clearly tired and stressed. Instead, he opts for the more caring-boyfriend-approach.
"I didn't know you were failing a course. Why didn't you ask for help?"
"Because you can't solve everything!" Mia exclaims, sending a pang of hurt rattling through his chest. "I need to go, alright? I'll see you soon."
With that, the line goes dead.
. . .
Even when Mia falls asleep on her couch, textbook in her lap and a highlighter between her fingers, she can't believe Harry.
The next morning, when she has a persistent ache in her neck and her back feels like it's broken in two, she knows school isn't the only stressful thing her body's responding to.
She thinks dating an older guy is great. Dating Harry is great. Until moments like this, when he somehow forgets that people — including his girlfriend — need to work to get certain things in life, and that they won't just be given an entire company a month after graduation. She doesn't doubt that he understands that on some level, but from the perspective of a partner — well, she thinks he's being pretty insensitive.
Her fingers twitch at her sides in class as she tries her best to pay attention, wanting nothing more to grab her phone from her bag to see if he's texted her. Midway through the day, though, there's still nothing. She can't believe he still hasn't apologized for how he acted the previous night, and it only makes anger fester in her chest even more.
Finally, by the time she trudges home in the cold (December is nearing, and with that comes miserable gusts of wind and flurries of snow), she's had it with his silent treatment. She's barely through the door when she decides that she'll be the one to break the tension — only, when she kicks her shoes off at the door, she notices that her kitchen and living room lights are on, and she surely turned them off before heading out this morning.
Gripping her phone in her hand, she quietly tip-toes out of the entryway, nervous that there's some sort of... homely intruder eating her snacks or watching TV. Instead, she gasps out in shock, clutching her chest when her eyes fall on none other than Harry.
"What the fuck?!" Mia exclaims, her heart thumping quickly with anxiety. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you."
She squints her eyes, feeling her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her forehead. "So you call. Or text. Not break into my house!"
"You gave me a spare key, Mia—"
"That's for emergencies!" she shouts, suddenly feeling like the living room is slowly getting smaller and closing in on her.
"But you never would've let me come over—"
"Harry, I was literally about to call you when I walked in the door. I'm still mad at you for last night! And you're only making me angrier by being here!"
Tears well up in her eyes as she spits the words out at him. She never thought she'd be in this position with him — it hurts her to even verbalize her anger.
"Wait," Harry stands from the couch, a furrow in his brows as he crosses his arms over the button-up he likely wore to work today, "You're mad at me?"
Mia stares back at him like he has two heads.
"Yes," she slowly replies. "Do not tell me you're mad at me."
His throat bobs. "Yeah. I am."
"For what?!" her anger festers in her chest all over again, exploding like an overflowing pot of boiling water.
"You— you haven't been around lately. You haven't been spending time with me or treating me like a priority."
She squints her eyes, her fingertips finding her temples as an ache begins to settle at the sides of her head. With a shake of her head, she turns around, stomping back towards the entryway of her apartment.
"You need to go," she decides, not even bothering to shed her jacket off yet, "I can't talk to you right now. You're being incredibly unreasonable."
"So you just want to walk away, then? We're not gonna solve anything, we're just gonna keep ignoring each other?"
"I was never ignoring you! I was waiting for you to apologize to me, only to find out that you think I'm in the wrong!"
Harry scoffs as he follows her down the hallway. "Well, I'm not leaving. I want to fix things. And I'm not going until we do."
"Is your approach to annoy me into apologizing?" Mia snaps.
"No," he mutters with a roll of his eyes, "Maybe we're both just being emotional."
She shrugs her shoulders.
"Do you still want me to go?"
Mia shifts her stance from foot to foot. With a noisy sigh, she shakes her head before mumbling out, "No. Let's just... talk about it."
He nods. There's a silence lulling between them as she stands with her back pressed against the wall, stubbornness apparent as she crosses her arms over her chest. He swallows and rolls his lips into a thin line.
"I'm sorry for coming over unannounced. That was very immature of me and crossing a boundary. I wasn't thinking, I just wanted to see you."
She keeps her eyes on the floor. "I just wish you'd texted or called instead. I waited all day to hear from you."
"I'm sorry," Harry repeats, his sock-clad feet taking a hesitant step closer to her, "It makes me feel stupid, how needy I can get. I know we're both busy with our own lives but I adore you, Mi. And I hate being away from you."
"I hate it, too," she mumbles, her bottom lip slightly pouted. "And you're not stupid for being needy... I just need you to understand that I'm working hard trying to get my education, and I need you to respect when I'm stressed or busy."
"I will. I'll do better."
She glances up to look at him. He looks tired, his eyes sad. With a quiet sigh, she lifts her hand to press her palm against his warm cheek. The prickles of his facial hair serve as a harsh juxtaposition from the soft skin beneath.
"I'm sorry, too. I never want you to feel like I don't care or I don't want to be with you. I just get so overwhelmed."
"I understand," Harry coos, wrapping a hand around her wrist to bring it to his mouth. He presses light kisses into her palm. "I know you care. I have to work on being more secure in our relationship."
Mia hums at his kisses, his gentle nature a welcomed change from their arguing.
"You know, you could always move closer," she murmurs with a smirk. He chuckles.
"Yeah. Or you could always just move in."
She rolls her eyes, "Then I'd really never get any work done."
"Mm, but think about how nice it'd be," he mumbles, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. "I'd cook you dinner all the time, bring you snacks and tea while you study... you'd have your own office, of course. We could get a dog or a cat, too. Share a bed every night... you wouldn't have to use travel sizes of all your skincare stuff either, because everything would be there already."
She smiles to herself as she leans her head on his shoulder. The thought is nice. So nice. But they both know it's too early in their relationship, regardless of how deeply they feel for one another. Maybe it's a dream to work up to — a sweet, domestic life together.
"And you know what would be the best part?" she asks, brushing her lips up against the shell of his ear.
"Hm?"
"I'd get to use your heated bathroom floors every day."
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