#i know it's 'not that deep' for some of you and that's probably why you don't listen/care
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perfectly matched.
college!art donaldson x reader
Summary: You and Art swore to never speak of that drunken night again. But you found yourselves together at your college bar, tipsy, and almost unable to resist each other.
Warnings: SMUT! 18! alcohol usage, drunk sex, cursing, biting, protected sex
It was one night.
One night, three months ago. Swept up in too many celebratory glasses of champagne. His messy blonde curls looked like a halo with your blurred vision. The traces of liquor on his upper lip seemed to be beckoning you in, begging you to find out if it was vodka or tequila. You left at the same time, he had offered to walk you home. Always a gentleman, always seemed to care about you. You both were stumbling, the drinks hitting the two of you all at once. You ended up outside your house, and then inside your house, up your stairs, in your bedroom. You’d seen his strong hands gripping the racket before but god they looked even better gripping your ass. Clothes thrown all over the room, not able to undress each other fast enough. His chiseled collarbones the perfect culprit for you to leave bite marks along. You woke up the next morning, head pounding, still naked. You felt him next to you, his tight abs pressed against your bare back, curls tickling the side of your neck. Fuck, how could you let that happen. He left in a haste, each of you promising to not discuss the events of the night prior ever again.
And now here you were.
A few too many double vodka lemonades deep inside your shitty college bar. The whole team had decided to go out to celebrate the end of a stellar season and unfortunately, Art looked just as good as ever. His backwards Stanford cap and his loose Budweiser t-shirt made him look like some sort of shitty frat guy, which certainly wasn't unappealing to you since that tended to be your type. You tried to play it cool when he walked over to you.
“Having fun?” he smirked, sidling up on the barstool next to yours. He leaned back against the bar, looking so perfectly relaxed. How do people end up this sexy?
“Could be having more fun,” you said casually, sipping your drink. Wait. What the fuck. Why did you just say that. You knew you had drank quite a bit but jesus christ isn’t it supposed to be liquid courage not liquid “ruin this friendship?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Art, looking genuinely confused. God sometimes his innocence was almost a little annoying, made you want him even more half the time.
“Sorry, geez I should not have said that,” you were slurring, the alcohol and your emotions making it hard to think straight.
He leaned in closer to you. You could smell the tequila on his breath, knowing that was his liquor of choice from the last time this happened.
“I think I can make this night a whole lot more fun,” Art growled.
You had never heard his voice sound like that before. Low and lusting, you knew you were not going to be able to resist. You locked eyes with him, and you could just feel how needy you probably looked. The two of you got up and left without saying goodbye.
Art was gentle. He was caring, a shoulder to cry on. Someone you could turn to if you were having a bad day and needed a hug.
That side of him was not so apparent behind your bedroom door. He pinned you against the wall, muscles rippling in your face as he sucked on your neck. Your moans were soft, hands pulling on his curls, earning equally soft groans from him. You were obsessed, this didn’t happen often and you knew you had to take in every moment. Every inch of him that you could feel, taste, touch, it was completely overtaking you. His boxers were sitting low on his hips, exposing his v-line. Your lacy bralette had been tossed aside, leaving your nipples free to be caressed by his rough hands. His mouth roamed from your neck down to your tits, taking one in his mouth as he gazed up at you. Fuck, your head rolled back against the wall. His eyes were shut, tongue flicking so expertly across your nipple. You never wanted this image of him, looking so intoxicated with your body, to leave your mind.
He stood back up, leaving no room between your now naked bodies. Suddenly his features softened, a nervousness painting itself across his face. He scratched the back of his head, a tell-tale sign that something was on his mind.
“Do you want to like-” he was basically whispering, cheeks flushed. It was astonishing how all his confidence had suddenly evaporated.
“Fuck?” you filled in the blank, leaning closer to his lips, teasing him with the thought. That hadn’t happened last time you were together. He was too drunk, and well, he just couldn’t quite get it up.
“Yeah, fuck yes please.” he groaned. You laid down on your bed as he walked to his wallet, pulling out that little gold wrapper. He climbed up on top of you, using his thumb to gently brush the hair away from your face. He looked ecstatic, the drunken-ness painting a stupid grin across his face and making you just feel insanely horny. He slid the condom on over his already throbbing cock, positioning it just outside your entrance.
He slid just the tip in first, making you wince. You needed to get used to how big he was, learn how to take him. His hips rocked gently as he gave you more each time, slowly starting to fill you up.
“God I needed this,” you moaned breathlessly.
“Yeah baby?” he cooed, giving you more of him as he pressed his lips against your tits, leaving marks along your cleavage.
“Making sure you don’t forget this in the morning,” he smirked, his confidence returning.
“Then fuck me like I won’t forget it,” you clapped back, basically saying you wanted all of him.
“Oh yeah?” He thrusted inside you, making you cry out in ecstasy. No dick had ever felt this good before, and maybe it was because you were drunk, but you could just tell he was hitting it like he fucking meant it. Your hands clawed into his back, legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper inside. He was pounding into you now, the sound of your bodies echoing throughout the room. You watched as he slid in and out.
“You like watching huh baby? Like seeing how good you are at taking me?”
You grabbed his hair in response, pulling his head into your neck and making him groan and fuck you harder. His tip found your g-spot, and the feeling was unlike any other. Watching his muscles ripple with each thrust, so far inside you he was nearly in your stomach. You squirted all around his cock, leaving his abs glistening. He bit his lip and looked at you, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
“God that is so hot.” he wasted no time getting back to the rhythm of things.
This sex was truly unlike anything else. Watching the man you saw as a teammate, so vulnerable above you. Completely naked, so far inside you. And you were taking him so well, the sexual chemistry between the two of you just completely undeniable. You made great hitting partners on the court, and that relationship suddenly didn’t feel so different from this one. The way you both knew exactly what the other wanted. The perfect balance of teasing and support.
“Fuck, fuck.” Art’s moans were primal, and you could feel how close he was getting, watching his arms tense up.
“I’m gonna cum too,” you said breathlessly.
“Look at me,” he grabbed your jaw, making you lock eyes.
It was like an explosion, overtaking every inch of skin on your body. You cried out, feeling his cock throb inside your pussy as you came simultaneously. You fit perfectly together, feeling each other up as you rode out your orgasms. His hand was wrapped around your arm, yours clawed into his back. He collapsed onto your chest, looking up at you in awe.
“You are unbelievable.”
dividers by : @.cafekitsune
#challengers#challengers fanfiction#challengers smut#art donaldson#art donaldson image#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson smut#college art donaldson#challengers movie#patrick zweig#stanford#tennis#mike faist#mike faist smut
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Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
“What the fuck happened?” Kyle asks as he steps towards Johnny who’s standing at the door to Simon’s room in the hospital.
‘This shouldn’t have fucking happened!’ Simon shouts followed by the sound of glass breaking.
“Calm down now, Simon. We'll find her-” Price says and gets cut off by Simon wincing and groaning as he tries to get up from the bed, his hand clutching his wound on his abdomen.
“You need to rest. I sent some guys to get some information about her whereabouts. Laswell is working on it.” Price tries to reason with him and gently pushes his shoulders to keep him on the bed.
“This fucking happened on my watch! And I need to fix it!” Simon hisses in John’s face while pulling away from his touch, eyes burning with rage, threatening that he won’t stop at anything to get you back.
“You’ll only make it worse! Now calm the fuck down and let me deal with it!” John retorts, getting dangerously closer to him, showing that he’s just as serious as him.
Simon gathers all his might to keep his composure and not break down... or not break everything down that is in sight and keeps him from getting you back.
“You were unconscious! This is not your fault-” John starts, “Whose fault is it then?” Simon cuts him off.
“Whoever the fuck that took her! There's nothing you could do then, or you can do now! You need to heal first. I need my best man by my side. Let me deal with gathering the info first while you get better. Then, I'll come to you to unleash hell on the fuckers!” John remarks, placing his hand on Simon’s shoulder.
Simon knows deep down that he’s right... but also knows that if they delay, some horrible things might happen to you. They have no idea who took you away, where you are... and what they’re doing to you. It makes his blood boil with pure fury at the mere thought of anyone laying a hand on you.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing!” Simon utters in frustration, “You should! We can’t have you slow us down now, can we?” John says, making Simon shut his mouth, but his mind runs a million miles an hour with thoughts of what could happen to you if they get there too late.
The door opens and two of John’s men enter the room, informing them of the trail they found about who might have taken you.
“The bloody Russians? I fuckin’ knew it, John! I told you not to do it! And she did too. She probably knows something. That's why they took her.” Simon shouts and gets off the bed, not caring about the agonizing pain that razes through his body.
“I didn’t fuckin’ seal the deal with them! And that’s why this whole fuckin’ thing happened!” John raises his voice and throws his glass across the room.
"You didn't?!" Simon asks, a shocked look etched on his face, "No!" John replies, "That's why they took her. They found out she knows something. They know you two were against the whole deal."
The sound of glass shattering and the shouting alert the staff, but Kyle and Johnny prevent them from entering.
The room is filled with heavy tension and pure rage as they all go through what led to this and what should be the next step.
#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost riley#ghost simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost cod#cod ghost#ghost call of duty#call of duty#cod mw2#cod#mw2#cod modern warfare
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Sweetness #4
Minors DNI
Summary: This is a continuation of Sweetness #3, you catch Shotaro with his pants down. It's only right that you help him pull them up, right?
Warnings: Male Reader, Handjob, Multiple Orgasms, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Biting, Praise Kink, Hella Good Boys, Shotaro is a people pleaser
Wordcount: 2k
You spent the night exhausted but well-satisfied with the lovely treatment you'd been getting from your friends. There was a tinge of guilt that you felt about fucking your friends, but in the end, everyone was consenting–so no harm was really being done. Sungchan, Anton, Eunseok, and Seunghan all approached you for sex. Some think you were hypnotized into it, which just made it sexier for you. Seeing how they'd treat you when they thought they could make you do anything. Listening to their voices, and seeing their faces, all to slowly make them realize you were aware the whole time made it all the sweeter. Why not try and go for all seven at this rate?
You thought about what Seunghan told you last night. Shotaro and Sohee would be the most difficult to have sex with because of how polite they were... And Wonbin wouldn't be tricked by you since he already knew your plans. You needed a plan of attack for the three of them, and the snowstorm would give you the perfect time to plan it all out. Between the two of them, Shotaro seemed like the next best target. Sohee had been nervous around you since Riize had their meeting about you last night, maybe to avoid spilling the secret to you.
It was early in the morning when you got out of bed. Maybe 5 AM–whatever time, you needed to use the bathroom now. You crept out of your assigned room, down the hall, to the bathroom. You could hear Sungchan snoring and Anton groaning in their sleep. It was probably a part of their punishment that they had to sleep in the living room to let the others sleep in their beds.
As you got to the bathroom, you noticed the light was on. The only other bathroom was across the apartment–and you didn't want to walk that far. More interestingly, you heard something come from inside the bathroom... a voice?
Your voice!
You peeked under the door, trying to see without getting caught. You saw Shotaro sitting on the toilet, stroking his hard cock while watching a video on his phone. As you listened closer, it was your voice playing from his phone. But you didn't recognize where... Until you heard yourself say, "I love you, Sungchannie..."
Shotaro recorded it when you gave Sungchan a blowjob!? He must've–unless someone else did. And he was jerking off to a video of you, probably wishing that it was him in Sungchan's place. You smiled to yourself. Why not give Shotaro his wish?
You stood up, messing with your hair a bit–looking like you'd just woken up. Then let out a deep breath before entering the bathroom while you rubbed your eyes. You could see Shotaro jump as the door opened but pretended not to notice. You turned on the faucet and started washing your face.
"Y-Y/n! I'm here!" Shotaro whispered loudly at you.
You put a towel over your face to dry it off. "Huh?" You got a better look at him after washing your face. He was red in the ears, his pants around his ankles, and a look of embarrassment all over his face while he covered his dick with his sweatshirt. He also turned off his phone so you couldn't see anything he was watching. "Relax Sho, we're all guys. It's not like you're doing anything bad..."
"You should knock!"
"You should lock the door!" You turned and locked the door, trapping you inside the small room. "See? Easy. Now just pretend I'm not here." Shotaro didn't know what to do with you in front of him. His mouth tried to form words, not knowing what to say. You look at him again, the way his lips parted cutely made you want him more. "Shotaro, it's not that bad with me here, right? You must hate me..."
Shotaro shook his head. "N-No, it's not you! It's me, I'm just a private."
"We're close, aren't we? We should be comfortable." You walk to him, leaning against the wall before him, leaving him nowhere to go. "Am I making you uncomfortable? I've always been the most comfortable with you."
"No! It's just that I didn't think you'd barge in here. I was caught off guard." You could see the print of his cock twitching against his sweatshirt. He was thinking about you, what he could do to you. He just needed to do it!
"Since we're so comfortable, can I ask you a question? You can say no if it's too weird?" You asked.
"Sure! Anything!"
You tried to think of something to get the ball rolling, but nothing good came to mind. "How big is your dick? I'm kinda curious how I measure."
"My huh–"
"Too weird? If you're shy, I can share first!"
"Share!?" You nodded as you unknotted your shorts, dropping them and your underwear together. Shotaro used both hands to cover his eyes from seeing you expose yourself but also released his cock. It sprang free from its fabric prison, jumping for joy as it pointed toward you. You took action immediately, grabbing it.
"Whoa! You're so huge!" Shotaro stifled a moan as you touched him curiously. You teased him as you let your cold hands run across him, faintly stroking it. "It's like seven inches, right?"
"Seven and a half," He whispered, keeping his face covered. He was so cute, too embarrassed to look at you but so needy that he wouldn't stop you from touching him.
"Really? It doesn't look like that much," You say as you watch him closely, still touching him.
"Y-Y/n, can you not squeeze it?"
"Why not? It's cute!" You squeezed his cock, making an actual moan slip out. You take your hand off him. "Oh... I'm sorry, I didn't mean–"
"Sweetness," Shotaro muttered. "Please, help me cum." He took his hands off his face, looking at your face as you played your part. You placed your hand around his cock again, earning a welcoming moan. Stroking him with intent this time made it so much more different for him. You squeezed when you moved up and released as you went down, changing the pattern every few strokes. Shotaro watched you work him over, his hands gripping his thighs tightly. You couldn't help but giggle watching him. The way his abs flexed from his hips bucking up gently, his head falling back and his eyes shut as he enjoyed your touch. Now for the best part...
"You're so cute, Sho. Even your cock is adorable..."
Shotaro's eyes shot open as his head snapped to you. "Say that again?"
"You're. So. Cute. Shotaro." Shotaro's brain registered the situation but his body couldn't care less. The boy of his dreams was stroking him into heaven while praising him, it couldn't get any better! "You're so cute, I can't wait to ride you, pretty boy."
"R-Ride?" Shotaro's voice trembled.
You nodded playfully. "You'll let me ride you, right?"
He nodded furiously. "Whatever you want. Use me, please. However you want me, just please touch me."
You straddled him. "Sure, I'll ride you until I'm satisfied. No matter how many times you cum..."
Shotaro shuddered. "O-Okay."
You lined yourself with his cock. "Look at me while I do it. No hiding." Shotaro forced himself to look at you as you sank onto him. The way his eyes lost focus, you knew he was close, you needed him inside you before he came. "Sho, are you still with me?"
He nodded, moaning a "yes."
"I need you to hold me tightly, and push up into me. Can you do that? If you do, I'll praise you so much." Shotaro didn't need to be told twice. He was the one who seemed hypnotized by the way his hands gripped your hips. He shifted so only the tips of your toes were on the floor, almost lifting you, as he pushed his cock completely into you.
"You're so warm..." Shotaro's body shook as he tried to hold himself together.
"Cumming?"
He nodded. "Do I pull out?"
"No, baby. Your reward for listening so well, you can cum in me. Since you're my good boy." As soon as Shotaro heard "good boy" come from your lips, describing him, he pulled you in close as he convulsed in pleasure. His orgasm made his body tense and relax rapidly as each wave passed through him and shot into you. You waited for him to calm down, his head hiding in your neck as he sobbed into your skin.
"I've never cum that hard..."
You giggled. "We're not done yet. I haven't cum yet..." You could feel his cock twitch inside you, ready for more even after just finishing. "I want you to slide me on your cock like a fleshlight. Can you do that? Shotaro kept trying to collect himself, too tired to answer. "Or maybe I'll ask Sungchan to do it, his cock is huge and I know he's strong enough."
Like a fish on a hook, Shotaro took the bait and tightened his grip on you. "Don't leave. Please. I'm not done either, please let me make you happy." You rolled your hips, signaling what you were waiting for. He lifted you by your ass as you stabilized yourself on his shoulders. "Just hit me if I'm doing it too hard."
"Too hard? What–"
Shotaro gave you no time to ask for clarity as he slammed you down, also thrusting up to meet with your hips. You saw a flash of white as he punched your prostate. Your body vibrated as Shotaro fucked up, rolling his hips with precision and sharpness–just as you'd expect from him. He was more focused than Anton, but not as rough as Seunghan and Eunseok. He was considerate but gave you what you asked for. His cock wasn't as big as Sungchan's but the way he used it made it irrelevant. He had you melting in his hands in only the first few thrusts.
"Oh, fuck! That's it, baby! Keep doing that–good boy!" You moaned as you bit into his neck.
Shotaro used one arm to hold you, his hips continued to thrust into you, and the other cradled your head gently. "It's okay, bite harder, I can take it."
Your eyes rolled back as you bit down more on his neck. It would leave a mark but that was a problem for you to worry about. The cock was that destroying you was driving you up a wall and biting Shotaro was the only thing stopping you from screaming his name
"I'm gonna cum again. Inside you. I love–" You kissed Shotaro as you felt him finish inside you for the second time that morning, you came at the same time–spraying cum all over your lap.
"I know you love me, Shotaro," You whispered, pulling in for a second kiss.
Once you calmed down from your orgasms, the pain in your legs started sinking in. Shotaro was able to lift you off him with minimal pain and placed you on the toilet. "About what I said, I didn't mean to..."
"Don't worry about it." You felt warm, and not just from the cum leaking out of you. Your heart fluttered from hearing Shotaro confess to you. You knew it was likely that each member had a thing for you, but you never thought about it deeply before... "Can you stay with me? And help me back to bed?"
Shotaro nodded, smiling up at you as he sat on the floor. He cleaned your body before carrying you on his back to your room. "Have a good night, y/n. I hope that your plan goes the way you want it to. And I'll keep your secret... It's only fair you get something over us after we took advantage of you." The look on Shotaro's face told you more than he said. He didn't like you fucking the other members, but if it made you happy to get your revenge then he'd play along for as long as you'd want. "Before I go... Do you think that you could ever date one of us? After this is over?"
You replied softly, "Maybe... I'd need to think about it."
Shotaro's smile crept back onto his face, a glimmer of hope for him. "Good night, y/n. I'll see you in the morning." Shotaro rushed out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving you to drift off to sleep with thoughts in your mind...
#oracle of dreams#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#x male reader#kpop male reader#x reader#x male smut#riize shotaro#riize#riize x reader#riize smut#shotaro#shotaro riize#shotaro smut#shotaro x reader
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shop assistant
Emily kept the smile firmly fixed in place as she watched the man in front of her vacillate. Engagement rings were always a long sales pitch, but at least this one seemed to know his partner’s taste. She only wished he would take her concerns about budget seriously–but then, that was fairly standard for the men she’d helped thus far. As if feeling her patient stare, the tall, pale goth glanced up from the displays and at her.
God, his eyes were gorgeous. Whoever he was shopping for was a lucky girl.
“You need not hover over me. I will be some time making this decision–it has to be exactly right.”
Wow. Someone certainly talked like a period drama. Emily dialed her Customer Service Smile up another notch. “Alright, well, I won’t be far if you need me. Please, don’t hesitate to ask.” With that, she gracefully departed for the main sales counter, where Eric was wrapping up a sale with a perky blonde.
“Hey, Em, is your guy who I think he is?”
Emily rolled her eyes. Eric was constantly thinking people here were celebrities. It never actually panned out to be true, but it didn’t stop him from speculating. She honestly couldn't care less, though. As far as she was concerned, celebrities were just people. There was no need to make a fuss over them–and she wouldn’t, even if this turned out to be whoever Eric was thinking of. “Probably not, but tell me who you think it is anyway. I know it’ll eat at you if you don’t say it.”
“I think that’s one of the Aeturnus family. They’re like...Vanderbilt rich. Old money. Hell, I think if you go far enough back, they’ve got some royal blood from some European country or other…”
“Well, that would explain why he just waved me off when I asked about the budget.” She shrugged. She wasn’t sure she believed it, but there was something just a little off about Tall, Pale, and Gorgeous. And there always seemed to be something with that level of wealth. She would count herself lucky he still treated sales people with respect. She shrugged it off, gossipping with Eric about the tech store across the street–rumor had it the owner was trying to romance one of their employees and not being particularly subtle about it. The employee was into it, but literally everyone else around them was not.
It was a half-hour later that the man approached her. “There is one which will do nicely with a bit of customization.” He must have seen her open her mouth to talk about the budget once more, because he held up a hand. “Money is no object, I promise.”
“Alright. Let’s see what we can do.” They walked back to the display case, and he pointed out one of the thicker wedding bands marketed towards men. The one he chose was lovely, with a deep red wood polished to a shine. The outside was rose gold–and that, it seemed, was the problem.
“The rose gold does not quite suit my partner’s taste. Perhaps white gold could be arranged.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Of course. Are there any other alterations you’d like to make?”
“I…” The hesitation seemed…out of character. Whatever the request was, it was clearly the emotional heart of the matter. Emily silently vowed to see it through, no matter what. “...I would like an engraving on the inside.”
“Of what?”
“I’ve written it out.” He pulled a folded paper out of his pocket. On it was a delicate script, in Latin. Amor Aeturnus Est. Love is eternal.
“Would you prefer a regular cursive script, or shall we replicate your handwriting?”
There was a blink, the only outward sign of his surprise. “You can do that?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Then, by all means, please.”
“Very well, Mr…” She prompted. Was she fishing for Eric’s sake? Maybe. But she would never hear the end of it if she didn’t at least ask the name.
He smiled–only barely, but that was a contrast to his previously neutral expression. “Aeturnus…for now. We shall be hyphenating.”
The rest of the transaction ran smoothly. As soon as Mr. Aeturnus left, Eric all but bounced over to Emily’s station. “How did it go? What is he like?”
Emily rolled her eyes. “He’s normal, Eric. He’s just a guy, buying a ring for his partner.” Even as she spoke, there was a soft smile on her face. She hoped that Mr. Aeturnus’s partner liked the ring–there was a lot of heart that went into choosing it.
As if reading her thoughts, Eric kept on badgering her. “Was it a good ring? Please tell me he picked a good ring, I can’t stand it when rich people have no taste…”
“It will be once his customization is done.”
“Awesome~”
@domaystic
All the prompt fills are cross posted to AO3
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Mushy May 2024
Jam Session - Dewdrop/Cowbell
662 words - Below the cut or on ao3
Thank you to @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May for the second year in a row!
Divider by @ghuleh-recs
He was not who Dew expected to see when he was directed to the rehearsal space for the first time.
He wasn’t really sure what he expected, in retrospect.
But not him.
Not Cowbell hovering over various monitors, instruments, fiddling with knobs and strings and pegs. A thread-bare apron with tools Dew could not identify, except maybe the pliers, hanging around his narrow hips.
Most shocking was the fact that those cracked and worn kidskin gloves Bell wore EVERYWHERE were hanging limp from one of the apron pockets.
Clearly focused on the task at hand, and with a pair of headphones smothering any and all ambient sound in the room, Bell did not hear Dew’s approach.
And he was focused enough for once that he didn’t feel it either. Not at first.
Not until he felt the thrum of Dew’s excitement and the undercurrent of anxiety snake through his blood stream.
A reaction that was parts expectation and awe. Dew expected to finally touch the instrument. Hear someone play the instrument. Again, he just did not expect him.
He expected Mist. Or Lake, or Water, or Delta.
He also wasn’t expecting some kind of savant.
From the lick he played after tuning a guitar, to the woody thump of the bass that he’d soon hold out to Dew. Clearly this ghoul knew his way around a stringed instrument. Dew suspected he probably knew his way around all of them.
Even though Dew was the one who snuck up on Cowbell, albeit unintentionally, it was Dew who jumped when he finally spoke.
“Would you like to hold it?”.
Dew was a bit mortified, jumping out of his skin like that. But he didn’t really know this ghoul, only a bit of his infamy. And most of it seemed to be rumors at best, greatly exaggerated in the very least.
“Yes, very much.” Dew’s voice cracked like a kit and he fought the urge to put his tail between his legs.
The instrument was held out, perpendicular to Cowbell’s body, with one hand on the bottom of the instrument so Dew could grasp it at the neck.
Strange.
As though Bell were really trying to avoid contact at all costs. He probably was, Dew surmised, as he eyed the gloves dangling at his waist.
Dew slung the instrument around his shoulders, startled again by the pop and crack of the patch cord being plugged in.
“Don’t worry, Mist is on her way.” Bell’s smile was bright, his eyes were brighter. None like Dew had ever seen before. Golden amber and deep violet. Kind of regal if he thinks about it, which he will, later.
“Oh, I’m not worried!.” Dew tried to reciprocate the smile but it was full of teeth and nerves and probably looked like a threat.
“Why don’t you sit?” Bell gestured to a tall stool while he perched on the edge of the small practice stage.
“I know Mist will show you what you need to know. But I could show you a thing or two as well.” Bell’s grin was suggestive, full of mirth and secrets.
Mist did arrive, 28 minutes later. But she found herself unable to interrupt. Watching the two through the glass window of the door.
She can’t remember the last time she’s seen Bell talk to anyone for that long, stay that close. She’s never seen him smile so much. Keep his mask off, gloves too.
Eventually she drifted back down the corridor dreaming up an excuse as to why she would be even later. But she found herself unable to give it when she came back, over an hour later, and found them knee to knee, working on what sounded like Prime Mover.
“One of my favorites.” She muttered as she wandered away again.
“I know it is” said the voice in her head, that sounded a little like a needle being dragged across a spinning record and a lot like it carried some renewed sense of purpose, of joy.
#moth’s mushy may 2024#dewdrop ghoul#cowbell ghoul#most Ghoulette#fluff#no cws#secret cowbell lore#he is obvi a savant but couldn’t do the tour thing for REASONS#so he takes care of the instruments and equipment instead#he doesn’t just hang out in the library#okay mostly#he lurks in the rehearsal space at night#water Dew#midnight moth writes#mushy may 2024#If you enjoyed this please consider reblogging it
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For @forlorn-crows Mushy May 2023 day 23: Watching the other sleep
FOR @forlorn-crows MUSHY MAY 2024 DAY 2: MIDNIGHT SNACKS
Pairing: Mountain/Dew
Rating: T for mild sexual humor and dew complaining he doesn't have a libido.
Tags: Attempted Laundry, Attempted Robbery, Midnight Snacks, Mountain is silent but deadly, Fresh Mountain Air (derogatory). Arguably slice of life?
Summary: Yeah I don't even know what to tell you with this one. Dew and Mountain do laundry, get snacks and save the day...?
Word Count: 3252
They've been laying together in content silence for probably an hour. Mountain's the little spoon; Dew's shimmied his way up to throw an arm clumsily over Mountain's shoulders with a leg flung over the big guy's hip in a classic jetpack position. They're both naked save for boxers but the heat of skin on skin isn't really doing anything for them like it usually does. Dew's playing with Mountain's hair, Mountain's enjoying the sensation but. Just laying there without sleeping or fucking is making Dewdrop kind of twitchy.
Don't get it wrong, Dew loves a good cuddlepile but that comes with the sensation of being sandwiched between a bunch of other ghouls, something always moving, someone always purring and while he loves to play with Mountain's hair quietly like this, just the two of them, he can't relax if everything is too still. Even the HVAC unit in the room isn't working so the air is tepid and stale.
He takes a deep breath in to ask Mountain if maybe he wants to go for a walk or whatever when Mountain shifts and asks, "You wanna grab some snacks from that place across the road?"
Dew grins against Mountain's neck and praises Satan for the earth ghoul's ever hungry stomach. The day (or night) Mountain doesn't get up for a midnight snack is the day (or night) Dew will finally believe in body snatchers.
"There's a laundromat next to it, I think." Mountain continues. "Should probably wash whoever's clothes are in the suitcases."
"It might be shirts from Swiss." Dew says nonchalantly. "Some from Cumulus too, I think. Maybe." As if he didn't routinely pilfer everyone's clothes and was in fact using Aether's shirt as a pillowcase. Mountain makes a little "hrm" that tells Dewdrop he can't get away with anything.
"And your hoodie." Dew adds, rushed and quiet.
"You might as well keep it." Mountain says, shrugging off Dew's limbs so he sit up and stretch. Dew's eyes immediately go to the way his shirt rides up, exposing his happy trail covering the scant amount of pudge Mountain carries on his beanpole of a body but still. Nothing happens down south. He must be tired. "I like my clothes without burn marks.'
"That was one time and I said I was sorry." Dew snapped without any real bite, shrugging on the aforementioned hoodie while Mountain threw on jeans and a shirt. Dew shimmies into something that fits him, he's pretty sure it's Sunny's by the smell of mangos and when he sticks his hand in the pocket he fishes out a half eaten pack of dried strips. He places them respectfully on the nightstand; hell spawn he might be but other people's snacks were sacrosanct. Especially Sunny's.
"Grab your wallet." Mountain says, hefting three duffel bags with ease. "It'll be pay per load and hopefully they have a coin machine there."
"Wish I was pay per load." Dew mutters as he slips his cracked leather billfold into the hoodies pocket. They probably have enough to get a few rounds done, he thinks.
"So do I." Mountain says, going for the door. Dew tries to kick him but the bastard's long stilty legs take him quickly out of range and Dew has to take three steps for just one of his.
“That doesn't even make any sense, asshole.”
“Your asshole doesn't make any cents. That's why I said it.”
“I am not making a fart joke Mountain.”
“I wouldn't judge you if you did.” Mountain says with a shrug and they continue their walk in the same companionable silence of the bedroom. The night clerk gives them a quiet nod as she folds towels and Mountain salutes her as they head out with their bags. The night air hits them like a soft wall of water, the ambient temperature still warm and humid enough to feel sticky seconds after exiting the air-conditioned space of the lobby.
“Nuh-uh” Mountain says, putting his large hand over Dew’s skinny chest when they reach the road. “Look both ways.”
“Mountain, it's the middle of the night.” Dew says with a look of disbelief. He adjusts Mountain’s hand so the palm is fully over his pectoral but he still isn't horny. Goddamn. “This isn't a big city, no one is around.”
“Safety.” Mountain says serenely, glancing left, then right then left again before nodding and pulling away from Dew, who takes a moment to mourn the loss of his hand on his chest and his libido. They cross the street unharmed to the laundromat, glowing with bright fluorescent lights.
“We're on camera.” Dew notes, nodding at the faded printout on the door.
“So show’em your good side.” Mountain replies, shouldering the door open. Rows of machines greet them, neatly lined up over the linoleum that is calling out for a decent sweeping. They only look a little bit rusty and Mountain picks a washer out while Dew pulls his wallet out and thumbs out a few bills for a coin machine that promises to take up to twenty dollar bills. He feeds it two fives, ears twitching at the loud clatter of coins in the tray and scoops them up, heading for a similar machine with a detergent selection.
“It's seven dollars and fifty cents for one load on a deluxe machine.” Mountain informs him when he returns, looking frustrated. “I'm not separating the whites.”
“Worth it if it's done faster.” Says Dew with a shrug. He never separates his whites. He doesn't think Mountain even wears white. Aether, maybe. Swiss, for sure. Those paper thin t-shirts that hardly hid anything dry let alone soaked.
“Gimme the money.” Mountain says, finger gunning him. “Put it in the slot, nice and slow.”
“Noooo,” Dew says with a hint of whine. “Please, I need it to buy cigarettes and porn mags.”
It's so stupid but they burst out into quiet snickers anyway, jostling each other back and forth until Dew’s loaded up the tray and pushed it in. Mountain hits the settings and they leave the duffle bags on the counter for later. Dew flips off the camera as they go; Mountain covers up his hand and mouths sorry and they squeeze through the door at the same time in a half-hearted scuffle.
“Hope they have donuts.” Dew says, kicking a chunk of broken-off asphalt across the cracked parking lot. Mountain does the same, sending a waves of gravel and black top crumbs scattering. “Could go for a jelly Bismarck.
“Belly jismarck.” Mountain says.
“I’ll give you belly jismarck.” Dew mutters, bumping the big guy with his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets.”
“Promises, promises.” Mountain replies with the hint of a smile. “My treat, yeah? For the laundry.”
“Guess we'll call it even.” Dew says, easily slipping in ahead of him through the wide open door. There's another printout sign, politely informing them the AC was broken and it was management’s top priority to get it fixed. Lower and in smaller print was a date from several weeks ago.
Typical, honestly.
A few big fans are set strategically in corners and though some kind of motion sensor rings out bell when they enter, the clerk at the register doesn't even acknowledge them, watching something on her phone and chewing gum, playing with her colorful braids. Dew absently notes the shade as one Sunny had wanted to try. He thinks about asking if it's the same brand to see if she had any tips so he could help Sunshine, but decides it’s just better to not bother her.
The only other customer is a man in a unzipped hoodie debating over soda brands. He turns around with a orange soda and shuffles over to the candy aisle, giving them a decent look at the rude and bigoted phrase printed on his shirt before he tugged the hoodie close, one that implied he wanted more than just his laundry colors separated. Easy enough to ignore but Dew decides he’ll step in if the guy decides to be a jerk to the cashier.
“Goin’ for the sunflower seeds.” Mountain says, peeling away to shuffle down one aisle. Dew goes a few more down, nabs a little bottle of painkillers because Rain was complaining about his fingers hurting for longer than they should and some chapstick for Aether and the girls because the paint always dried out their lips and they were forever needing more. First aid run done, he picks up some hot chips and a soda before joining Mountain, who apparently can't decide between regular salted seeds and ones that are enticingly pickle flavored.
“Fuck’s sake.” Dew tells him. “Get them both.”
“Okay.” Mountain says. “Hang on, I want cake and then we'll check out.”
Dew wanders over to a rack of magazines and cheap puzzle books, wondering if he really needs another sudoku paperback but Aether enjoys doing them together so there's another fucking thing he has to carry. He's so absorbed in thinking about grabbing a cheap mystery for Cirrus that he barely notices it until he does. Under the hum of appliances, Dew's ear catches a faint hissing sound, like air being let quietly out of a balloon.
Mountain starts whistling like he always does when he's trying to get away with something and returns to Dew, snack cakes retrieved.
"Would you care for a Swiss roll?" Mountain says, sounding completely solemn with a straight face but still subtly looking immensely pleased with himself. Dew squints at him, suspicious. Then the man in the hoodie, who had been in the cake aisle the whole time, starts coughing and after a few moments, airflow from the fans causes the stench to reach them.
"Unholy fuck, Mountain!" Dew hisses, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him away. "Really?"
"I didn't like the implications of the slogan on his shirt." Mountain holds out the stale bakery treat in an open palm. "The Swiss roll?"
"And everyone thinks I'm the trouble maker." Dew grouses.
"They never hear the quiet ones coming." Mountain says like it's some sort of wise statement.
"No shit." Dew says.
"I did not." Mountain replies. "Otherwise this would be an entirely different conversation."
Dew stares at the wall of snacks like it would give him an answer. All he hears is Mountain’s self satisfied chuckle.
He's damn lucky Dew likes him.
When they get to paying, Dew lays his bounty out and examines the cigarette display behind the counter. All colorful and I exciting ways to give humans cancer. He doesn't know if it'll ever affect his vessel and honestly he doesn't know if he'll be around long enough to find out but that’s a depressing thought.
That's when he spots it; a familiar white and blue box and he finds himself hit with an odd punch of nostalgia. Mist smoked that brand because it was easier to take a sharpie and scribble out the Y of the brand name, leaving just her name in fancy sea green font: MIST. Easiest way to keep the dicks she toured with from stealing her packs and Dew points to it. He gets it without needing to show ID and wonders if it means anything. Then decides he doesn't care. He opens the pack, shakes one out. Grabs a cheap lighter from the display and fiddles around with it as Mountain pays for their stuff.
"Lighters are one seventy five plus tax." The cashier says.
"I'm just testing it." Dewdrop replies. He lights his cigarette and puts the lighter back. The cashier looks at Mountain, who shrugs.
"He's just testing it."
The cashier's face took on the appearance of someone who suddenly decided they weren't paid enough to deal with this shit as Dew puts the lighter back and heads out to smoke while Mountain deliberates over stupid waiting line purchases like cheap plastic sunglasses that will break when he sits on them after forgetting he put them in his back pocket.
The guy with the hoodie is still hanging around with his purchases, hovering a few feet away from the door like he plans to sidle out with them, sans paying as he pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt. A dual side eye from two glamoured demons makes him step back. Not that they really care about shoplifting but like hell they want company.
They only take five steps before stopping, admiring the night sky. Mountain's chewing his way through a pack of seeds he's pulled out of the bag already. Dew thinks back to the man and the way he reeked of nerves and rancid sweat. The way he kept hanging out like he was waiting for something. The way he kept plucking his hoodie.
"Guy had a gun." Dewdrop says, exhaling a long stream of smoke.
"Yep." Mountain replies.
"You have any sunflower seeds left?"
Mountain side-eyes him, expression carefully neutral.
"Yop."
Dew grins and tosses his cigarette down, grinding it out with the heel of his shoe.
“You feel like playing superhero, big guy?”
____
Dipshit is already threatening the poor girl when they enter the store again. The motion sensor goes off, alerting him to their presence and he swings around, pointing the gun at them.
“Hey.” Dew says, addressing the shaking cashier. He struggles to remember the name on her tag. Something related to cats? A singer? “Miss Kitt, I changed my mind. I think I’ll pay for that lighter after all.”
“Get on the ground!” Dipshit says. “Or I swear I’ll shoot!”
“You can.” He says to Mountain, who is already starting to kneel, bag of seeds clasped in his sweaty hand. “I still want to pay for my lighter.”
He isn't going to shoot. Dew knew the second he clocked the weapon the guy was banking on the threat more than any action he might take. So he approaches the counter, hands up as the muzzle remains trained on him.
“You can shoot me if I make any sudden movements.” Dew tells the would-be thief. He prays to Belial he’s as invincible as he feels on stage because now would be a bad time to find out otherwise. Ignorance is bliss and if he believes he's bullet-proof then, well, who's to say he isn't? He could be. His belief could make him strong enough. He's fire-retardant, at any rate. Should count for something.
He really really hopes Dipshit doesn't clock the way Dew’s own hands are trembling as they hand over a few measly dollars to Kitt. She takes them in a hand that's shaking just as hard and taps in the amount on the register. They all jump at the sound of the drawer sliding out for change and Dew could laugh if he wasn't just as scared as any other human would be, the barrel of a nine millimeter trained on him.
He thinks it's a nine millimeter, at any rate. That's always the gun those detective novels have so it's all he has to go off of.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mountain flicking seeds over the floor, aiming for Dipshit’s boots.
“Twenty five cents.” Kitt says, eyes rapidly flickering between the crazy person trying to rob her and the crazy person acting like the robbery isn't happening. Dew stares at her, tries to communicate it's going to be okay with his eyes alone but he's no quintessence ghoul. For all the good he’s doing, she could might only see even more violence in his unblinking eyes. Dew takes his quarter.
“Thanks.” He says, keeping his tone warm and even. “Hey, you wanna see a coin trick?”
Before anyone can react, he turns swiftly, flicking the quarter straight at Dipshit's skull, terminal velocity but not terminal impact. It nails him square between his eyebrows and he yells, free hand flying to his forehead and that's when Dew moves. He grabs the arm holding the gun and aims it up, yelling for Mountain who snaps his fingers and all Dew sees is thick green stems bursting up, growing rapidly, twining around anything they can reach for support. One sprouts up between their bodies, pushing Dew to safety and deftly wrapping Dipshit up in sturdy greenery, a comically large blossom blooming as it grew up and up.
Something clicks above his head and Dew realizes it's the trigger. He feels like dying of some strange emotion; the cylinder is empty, there was never a threat to begin with.
“Oops.” Mountain says as it pushes harder and harder on the ceiling tiles until the cheap boards give way and the plants can grow, breaking through the wiring, lights flickering before going out. More and more of them, choking out every artificial advertisement, knocking over shelves and stands.
“Go!” Mountain yells, scrambling up and they go; two through the main door, Kitt through some employee entrance to the side. They run to the street, still, miraculously empty and turn around to watch mother nature's reclamation in awe.
“We're so fucked.” Dew mutters as they survey the gigantic ic greenery only grow larger and larger, mutant blooms bending on pillar-thick stems in search of sunlight.
“It was the adrenaline.” Mountain says defensively. "Let's blame it on Poison Ivy." .
"The," Dew splutters, turning to him. "The fucking DC supervillain? Mount, you know she's not real."
"Real to me."
"She's in love with that mannequin girl."
"Harley Quinn. I would never come between them, I just want to be near her."
"Fuckin' weirdo."
"Weirdo fuckin'." Mountain replies cryptically, reaching into his pocket for a fresh and unopened packet of seeds. The pickle flavored kind, Dew notes, some part of him wondering if the experience would have been any weirder if the flowers reeked of pickles.
You know you're supposed to spit the shells out, right?" He asks as Mountain eats a handful.
"Oh please, you love it when I swallow."
"Don't come crying to me about your torn asshole then." Dew crosses his arms. Mountain leans in close, nudging him so hard he has to brace himself to keep from falling.
"Mmm, delicious wood chips, I love fiber."
“We should go.” Dew says, hardly caring if Mountain makes fun of his wide grin. This is the best he's felt without a cheering audience involved. They saved the day. He helped a human. For being a demon, this whole “selfless” thing actually felt pretty good.
Mountain rummages around in th bag again, pulling out his stupid novelty shades and placing them on his face. Electric blue, with a yellow squiggle pattern and orange triangles.
"Sunglasses at night?" Dew asks with a raised eyebrow.
"Don't switch a blade on the guy in the shades." Mountain says, unwrapping a Swiss roll and taking a big bite. His other hand offers up the twin to the chomped one. Dew scoffs and grabs it, taking a bite and doing a very good job at hiding the way he gags over the stale spongy cake and old sugar of the frosting, thank you very much.
They get back to the hotel, sliding the key card into the door as the first police car drives up. As quietly as they can, they tiptoe back to their room and slide into bed, snuggling up together under the sheets. One minute passes. Two. Dew feels his eyelids finally grow heavy with sleep and sighs, cuddling up close to Mountain in a way he'll vehemently deny in the morning when it hits him.
"Mountain?"
"Sup."
"We forgot the fucking laundry."
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Hi! I always love the way you ellaborate things in detail. Can you also describe how lee know is like when he get jealous? Will he get extremely possesive when it comes to his lover?
thank you so much for your kind words!!! ❤️ that means the world to me.
here's the thing about lee know: i think deeeep down, he has a need for his freedom. he UNDERSTANDS freedom and he values freedom. but in relationships, he just can't fucking do it (at it's probably hell for him).
i say this because:
#1 his moon in sag. it's all about freedom and being able to be adventurous and explore. it's tied to who he is emotionally. at his core, he understands this and HE needs this. he needs his freedoms, and he doesn't alwayssss want to feel like he's being tied down. but that doesn't necessarily mean that's what he wants for you... even if he does understand HOW you could be like that, it doesn't mean he's okay with it.
#2 his mars in virgo. he knows how to be direct and get shit done. he is going to be practical in the way that he does things. so it's not like he's lost in his head about all of this. he is fully aware of what he's doing. what is he doing exactly? well.....
his sun, mercury, AND venus in scorpio. we first have to look at the characteristics of scorp. obviously known to be deep and emotional. they have desires that they often lock away, but can open up for the right person. and in the end, that's all they want. someone who can be there to UNDERSTAND them. but since scorpio knows what it's like to feel so deeply, it can lead them to hide things for others. it can also lead them to manipulate others. they will want to know every little thing about you. and you can bet your ass they will use that to their advantage. they know how you'll react, and that makes it 10x better.... and the fact that they "know you so well" makes them extremely possessive of you. to the point that they can definitely become jealous if they think you are getting too close to anyone else.
sun: it's gonna shine through in his personality. at least he doesn't outright hide it... well, most of it, at least. you just don't know how deep it goes. but he will very much make it known in everyday life that he wants you to only be his by his everyday actions.
mercury: he will tell you exactly what you want to hear (when he wants you to do something) OR he will tell you something that he knows will completely devastate you (to basically use it against you to do what he wants). and the thing is, he may not even be cognizant in the fact that he's doing this. it's just inherent.
venus: he's a lovesick lover boy who can get possessive and obsessive under the right corcumstances. if he knows the most intimate parts of you, he can feel like he has some sort of "claim" to you. he literally feeds into these delusions bc deep down, scorpios really want that deeeeep emotional connection, but they dont necessarily feel comfortable offerring up their own selves... that's why they need you to fulfil it.
long story short, in relationships, lee know is very much possessive in relationships. but it is inherent in him. he quite literally doesn't know any other way. BUT there is conflict with his moon, so it does try to put it at a hault sometimes and keep him in check. but at the end of the day, actions beat out intentions.
"you are not going there dressed like that baby. wear it for me instead."
"i didn't think you'd be the type to want to do that... i mean, i didn't think you'd be into that scene."
"you're meant for me. only me. do you understand that?"
"see baby, that's why you need to stay with me. nothing bad will happen to you as long as i'm around, okay?"
#lee know skz#lee know angst#lee know x you#lee know imagines#lee know x reader#lee know#skz minho#skz imagines#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagines#stray kids angst#skz astrology#skz x reader#lee minho angst#lee minho x reader
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All yours (Be a Doll)
CW: lover obsession, dependency, possessiveness, objectification (to some extent), hints towards previous events such as mind control, abuse, brainwashing, torture and the like, Valentino mentioned, Vox is a little shit (he’s in hell for a reason), AU typical events.
Note: Vox is manipulative, possessive, jealous, impulsive, controlling, and harsh in this AU. He can be extremely violent towards reader, and is consistently abusing them either way. He is not a good person! In this specific post, doll!reader is giving in to his constant abuse and manipulation, giving into him. This isn’t a good thing! It’s important to remember that I’m writing it from doll!readers point of view, and as time passes, they are less and less likely to resist or see much of anything wrong with anything in this situation or Vox’s behavior, simply due to the constant exposure to it. Vox ends up convincing them it’s natural, so from their point of view, it can sometimes be portrayed as such. That doesn’t make it objectively right. If anyone is sensitive to or may have a negative reaction from these topics, I recommend clicking away now.
Summary: Doll!reader is having a bad day at the tower. It’s towards the start of the AU timeline, when Vox first gets them, and they’re still adjusting. They go to him for help and comfort, despite how he’s abused them.
I tentatively stepped into his office, tears pricking my eyes. I wiped them away and composed myself. He hadn’t called me in, I’d come on my own. I needed him right now. I was having a horrible day, I felt worthless, I needed to be his. I needed to have some sort of meaning, some familiarity. I needed him.
“Vox?” I asked quietly, stepping closer.
He turned around in his seat, looking a bit surprised. “Doll? What are you doing here?”
“Can I… please..?” I hesitated and looked away, biting my lip. I’d never asked this before. I just… I needed to be near him right now.
“Come on, doll,” he said with a chuckle. He smiled, taking on a more casual demeanor, but there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “You know I can’t do anything if you don’t tell me what you want.” Why had I come? He probably hadn’t expected me to seek him out.
“I… I want…” I looked down, fidgeting relentlessly with my hands, picking at my skin. A bad habit of mine. I scratched and picked until I drew some blood, then sighed. Why was this so hard? “I want…” I trailed off, then took a deep breath. “I want to be yours.”
“You were meant to be mine,” he replied, nonchalant. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. It felt right. “You are mine, aren’t you?” I nodded, and he waved me over with a smug grin. “Come here,” he said. I took a step forward and he pulled me into his lap. “You’re such a pretty little thing.”
“All yours,” I said softly, leaning into his touch. I wanted to be near him right now. He was my only source of comfort. I needed him. “Please. I’m all yours.”
“I know,” he said. He nuzzled his head against my neck, but in such a way that the corners of his screen left scratches. I didn’t even flinch. This was affection from him, and any sort of attention or affection from him was rare. I needed this, and I was going to savor it. “You want something else, don’t you? Go on, say it.”
“I…”
He gripped me tighter. “Spit it out, doll.” The pain that flooded though me was a strange sort of comfort. I sighed with relief. I was still here, I was still real, I was still alive.
“Please,” I said, leaning into him completely. I gave him a small kiss, and looked up at him. “I want to be your doll.”
“There we go,” he said with a grin. He dug his claws deeper, then bit my neck. I didn’t protest like I typically would. I sat there, compliant, taking it all in. For me, each sensation was a reminder that I was still me. I didn’t mind the pain so long as it reassured me I was real. “I love you,” he said, pulling away. He set me aside, and I felt a sense of panic rising in my throat.
No, no, no, no! I had just gotten his affection, I needed more. I couldn’t lose his attention now. I needed him. “I want to be yours,” I said again, my voice a little strained. I looked at him, desperate, and got closer without needing any instruction. “Please.” I touched him, without asking, without needing to be told. I tugged on his sleeve, needing his attention. I climbed onto his lap despite the fact he’d just pushed me off, desperate. “I was meant to be yours.”
“You were meant to be mine,” he repeated. He narrowed his eyes, thinking for a moment, as he ran his fingers through my hair. “I am all that you need.”
“Yeah,” I said quickly, with a nod. I leaned in, agreeing, appeasing him. “Please, please, I need to be yours.”
“You”re joking,” he said, raising an eyebrow. A test. “Shouldn’t you hate me, doll?”
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. I shook my head and held onto him tight. “I don’t hate you.”
“Interesting,” he said. He smiled and wrapped an arm around my waist. “You’re telling me, that despite everything… goddamnit doll, I electrocuted you, I tortured you, I used you! I have no care for how you feel, and I’ve abused you constantly since the moment we first met, and you’re saying you want me? You want to be mine?” He laughed at the absurdity of it all.
“I don’t just want it, I need it,” I said, looking up at him directly. “Please, I need you. I need to be yours, I was meant to be yours, I need to be yours, please. Please.”
“Please,” he repeated. He examined me for a moment, and his thoughtful expression shifted. He smiled wide, and brought me closer. He moved me around, played with me, tugged my hair, pulled at my clothes. “And this is fine with you?” I made no move to resist. In fact, I was moving along with his touch, trying to anticipate what he’d do next so I could make it easier. “You like this?”
“I need you,” I said softly. He stopped for a moment, and I rested my head against his chest. “Please. I’m nothing without you. I need you.”
“Damn right,” he muttered, a smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around me. He brought me as close to him as possible, holding me tight. “You’re mine, doll. Don’t you forget it.”
“I won’t,” I said, nuzzling up against him. “I need you.”
“You need me,” he agreed. He was still smiling to himself. God, it’d been so easy to break me, hadn’t it? Just a bit of torture and mind control, some brainwashing… he had anticipated needing to bring Valentino in for more training, but that didn’t even seem necessary anymore. Sure, there’d be some hiccups, but now? I was here, I had chosen to come into his office, chosen to sit with him, and I had chosen to dedicate myself to him. “You need me, you were meant to be mine. You are nothing without me, got that?”
“Yes, sir,” I said with a nod.
“Good,” he said. “You’ll be mine, then.”
“All yours.”
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#writing#vox x reader#my writing#vox fanfiction#vox hazbin hotel
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Malec meet pre-canon divergent
(considering tv-show canon only, as I don't know much about the books)
I personally found it a little weird that Alec and his siblings had to be briefed about the High Warlock of their territory, by Hodge.
Shouldn't Alec, as the acting head, have been aware of the most prominent downworld leaders in the city his institute is in?
Wouldn't Magnus have been in the institute before, for ward maintenance or things like that?
Wouldn't they have had to call him to close rifts that demons were popping out of?
(Not like those kinds of things were ever shown or discussed in the show, but then again, the show was very stingy where details and backgrounds were concerned.)
Anyway, I would like to propose a series re-write, where Alec and Magnus get to know each other pre-canon, and Magnus has the chance to bolster Alec's self-worth and confidence a little.
And then exploring what effect this might have, as Alec wouldn't be such a pushover where his siblings are concerned.
(I actually just really like re-writes of given plots that explore changes to said given plot, so that personal guilty pleasure might heavily play into this prompt…. 😉 )
possible scene:
They could meet on site for rift closure, and Alec is laying down a plan of attack, because some demons have already gathered.
And then Jace is trying to propose another plan (that's less tactical than Alec's was and more of a 'run in head first' kinda deal).
And Alec is not confident about his own plan versus Jace's, and he is about to give in,
but then Magnus is like: "I agree with the pretty boy."
And Jace smirks and goes: "See, the high warlock thinks it will work."
And then Magnus goes: "Oh no, I was talking about his plan. Yours sucks."
-
I think, if a relationship between them (platonic heading for romantic) exists for some time, Magnus would probably let slip about Maryse and Robert having been in the circle.
Not in a malicious way.
I think Magnus assumed that Alec knew.
So maybe one day Magnus offers to check over the wards, and Alec accepts and wonders loudly about why his parents didn’t commission check ups for two years,
and Magnus just "Well, they have tried to limit their business with downworlders as much as possible. Which isn't surprising, seeing as many of us feel that they haven't been sufficiently punished for their crimes while they were in the circle. But it's not as if I would have refused the job. I might have overcharged them, … Alexander? You look pale, is something wrong?"
-
I just see them having lots of little conversations that help build Alec up, while not just being simple compliments.
Like, when Alec doubts his leadership qualities and asks Magnus about his opinion, as Magnus has fought in a few wars and known a few figureheads.
"I believe being a good leader comes down to knowing and trusting in yourself."
"Shouldn’t that be 'knowing and trusting my people'?"
"That, too. But it's important to know your own strengths and weaknesses. For example, I'm one of the most powerful warlocks out there with a deep and varied understanding of my craft, and I look dashing in silk. I'm also impatient, occasionally vain, and I can be quite petty. Now what about you? Let me start you off. You are afraid."
"Wow, didn’t think you would start with a weakness."
"I didn’t. Well, maybe a little bit. Fear can be both. But in this case, I meant it as a strength."
"How?"
"Think back to our first meeting. The fear of not knowing what the situation was we were walking into, made you come up with a strategy that allowed us to assess what was going on, while also ensuring minimal collateral damage. What do you think would have happened had you been as cocky as your parabatai, and stormed right in?"
"… We wouldn’t have known about the circle members, or the back entrance. The perimeter wouldn’t have been secured. The teen warlock might have become a victim to a shadowhunter blade, had you not had the chance to see the enslavement collar on her."
"See? You have good instincts, Alexander, and a great mind for tactical manouvers. That is something you should trust in more."
#magnus bane#alec lightwood#malec#shadowhunters tv#malec prompt#series rewrite prompt where malec meet pre-canon#canon would change due to this#butterfly effect my precious#all the change
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Can i get some demon trio bonding pls?
Sha Hualing is the worst possible person to ever go drinking with. Mobei-jun will simply sulk in a corner and sip his wine like an ice statue that wished to be a real boy and make you feel somehow inadequate to even be in his company, Sha Hualing on the other hand will start a tavern brawl and only be satisfied once she’s sure she’s spilled blood from at least three people.
“Why are you like this?” Binghe begs her after they’re kicked from the third tavern this week, she’s cackling like a mad witch, not an ounce of concern for her -admittedly, very flimsy- human disguise, he prays no one associates him with the new prestigious guest of Huan Hua Palace and goes babbling to the old palace master, heavens know Binghe does not want that old geezer coming around to act all paternal around him again.
“Because it’s fun, Xiao He! You should do it too, it would loosen you up a bit maybe,” she tells him, pinching one of his cheeks with her sharp rouge stained claws, he whines “Ancestors know it would loosen up that one.” She gestures rudely to Mobei-jun, who just stands there looking serious as usual.
“Is his face stuck like that or does he have another even bitchier expression somewhere deep inside of him?” Binghe asks her in a very serious voice and Sha Hualing chortles like a piglet.
“Oh not, you should see him with his mousy little human, he gets so soft it’s unbearable to watch, like snow melting in the sun, blegh” Sha Hualing tells him, still giggling, draping herself over his shoulders like a warm and jingly scarf.
“Shang-shishu!?” Binghe exclaims, eyebrows climbing up to his hairline, his expression growing even slacker with surprise at the flush that appears over Mobei-jun’s regal nose “OH YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HIM!”
Sha Hualing cackles loudly again, right against his ear. Mobei-jun shushes the both of them, looking around with wide eyes as if Shang-shishu would pop out of the ground and catch them in the act of making fun of Mobei-jun for wanting to put his dick in him.
“He wants to give him babies.” Sha Hualing says loudly, pretending to whisper in Binghe’s ear and this time it’s him cackling as loud as he can.
“Hualing.” Mobei-jun hisses, his tone has hardly changed but Binghe gets the impression that he’s close to tears.
“Ancestors, you want to be the peak lady of An Ding Peak.” Binghe says and he and Sha Hualing immediately crumple into giggles again, Mobei-Jun lets out a noise not unlike a tea kettle.
Binghe and Sha Hualing are both doubled over laughing, a strong wind could probably make them topple into a puddle of giggly demon right here in the middle of this town square with the ugly lion statues and crooked lanterns. Mobei-jun looks heavenward as if asking for patience.
“He wants to be Shang Qinghua’s special little demon.” Sha Hualing says, slapping Binghe while tears stream down her face from how hard she’s laughing, Binghe is already hiccuping. Mobei-jun seems to decide that enough is enough, bending down and picking both of them up one under each arm, he opens a portal to Binghe’s palace in the demon realm and steps in.
Their cackles echo loudly while Mobei-jun hunts down Binghe’s room. A few of the demon servants stop to listen and smile to themselves before continuing, for once since Tianlang-jun’s demise there’s lightness in these halls again.
#being reckless and young (is not how the damage gets done)#I LOVE DEMON TRIO#LET THEM BE FRIENDS#LET LUO BINGHE HAVE FRIENDS#anyways lbh repays mbj for the abyss trauma by mercilessly making fun of him and his crush on sqh#luo binghe#sha hualing#mobei jun#moshang#if you squint#hope you liked this user binghescumsock#ur username made me giggle so thanks for that
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Hey. I love your work. I notice you write for shatter me and i got to say the amount of attention that booktok and i give to Aaron Warner, I thought there would be an explosion of fanfics. Unfortunately that's not the case. So i was hoping you could write something for me based on him.
So it goes like this. Reader has this guy friend and she is very very very close with him and they even have nicknames. Aaron is so annoyed by this and especially with kenji because he won't stop moking him. That is until reader introduces him as her best friend and kenji is livid. Maybe you could show how they get rid of the guy and kenji and Aaron bonding.
Thank you and have an amazing day ahead!
Not Enough Attention
Summary: Y/n has been neglecting Aaron in favour of... of him.
•○●⛦●○•
A/n: omg anon i feel you because whyyy does pookie not have more fics???? absolutely ridiculous. disappointing honestly 😔 like wanna write for pookie but i have so many drafts rn, but i will write for him because i have a few things planned for him 🤭
(not proofread yet because im about to go to sleep im sorry 🥲)
anyways, enjoyy!!
Kenji was not known to be the smartest creature on the planet, everyone knew that. And that was the only reason Aaron never bothered to converse with him.
But alas, everyone has to face their nemesis at some point.
To make matters worse, Y/n, the only one keeping Aaron sane, was away again.
Probably meeting with her lover.
Aaron had to force himself to not roll his eyes.
"Hey, Warner. Have you seen Y/n?"
Aaron glanced up from the papers he'd been reading through, sighing. "Probably loitering around the building with her new... friend."
Kenji snorted, pulling back the chair in front of him and then practically throwing himself in it. "Aww, is our wittle Warner jealous?"
Aaron leaned back, setting the stack in his hand on the desk. "Wittle?" Kenji opened his mouth to explain, but Aaron cut in before he could spew more stupidity. "Never mind. And I'm not jealous."
Kenji smirked, leaning the chair back so it balanced precariously on its back legs. "Sure you aren't, Warner."
Aaron took a deep breath, trying not to let his words get under his skin. "I'm merely concerned for her safety-"
The door opened then, and both the men turned to look, watching intently as Y/n stepped in, another boy following her.
Aaron's jaw clenched, looking away from her smiling face.
"Y/n! I was searching for you."
Unable to resist, Aaron let his eyes wander back to the people in front of him.
Y/n nodded. "I know, I saw you walk in and thought you might have been looking for me." Y/n glanced back at her new friend. "Oh, and this is my best friend Jack. Jack, this is Kenji."
Jack offered a simple nod to Kenji, impatience shining in his eyes.
Y/n seemed to understand why he was so impatient, and she turned to Aaron.
"I have some work, I'll see you two later, yeah?"
Aaron avoided her eyes as he nodded, waiting for her to leave the office before releasing the breath he didn't even know he had been holding.
Kenji seemed to be lost in thought as he stared after Y/n, his jaw working.
"You know... maybe this needs to be looked into."
Aaron pressed his lips into a tight line to stop himself from smiling in triumph, and stood, dusting off invisible dust from his pants.
"So, what's the plan boss?" Kenji questioned, his expression more serious than Aaron had ever seen.
"We do some work."
Aaron would have never thought that he would be working along side Kenji, let alone looking forward to working with him, but here he was, anticipation building in his gut as he stood leaning against the doorframe leading to the barracks.
Kenji had left him standing there to go search for Jack.
They did not have a solid plan, no matter how hard they pretended. All they had talked about was the fact that they were going to ambush him. And then have a friendly little chat.
Aaron knew Y/n would be mad when she found out, but he couldn't help it. Aaron had never really had friends, so he as quite protective over the ones he now did have. He refused to be overshadowed by anyone, let alone someone named Jack.
Footsteps neared, alerting Aaron. He reached down, patting the gun at his hip.
He knew he shouldn't have to resort to violence, but this was his best friend he was concerned about. He wasn't about to take any chances.
He ignored the voice in his head who chirped about how she wasn't just his friend.
She was also the object of all his desires.
The desire to hold. To protect. To kiss.
The desire to love.
To be vulnerable.
He straightened, clearing his mind of any and all distractions, and turned to watch as Jack walked in step with Kenji, right into the awaiting hands of his doom.
Kenji slowed down the moment his eyes met Aaron's, falling behind Jack in case the fucker decided to run.
Thankfully, he wasn't as dumb as he looked and he just stared at Aaron's looming form.
"Did you need something from me?"
"What are your intentions for Y/n?"
He blinked. "We're just... friends?"
Aaron scowled. "I don't think you have only friendly intentions for her though. Tell me, how many times have you thought of kissing her?"
Jack's eyes bulged at that, and he looked so disgusted with Aaron that even Aaron had to question whether he as mistaken.
"I am not interested in Y/n like that. What even gave you the impression-"
"Don't lie." Kenji sang in a loud high pitched voice, and Jack turned to glare at him.
"I'm not fucking lying. Why do you two think I- is it because we have become close over the past week? Is that it? Is she not giving you two enough attention?"
Aaron didn't let it show on his face, but inside he agreed to that statement to some extent.
He felt like he was being ignored, abandoned, and he did not like it one bit. His father ignoring his existence most the time was enough for him. He didn't need even his best friend and the woman he was in love with to ignore him too.
When neither of them replied, Jack let out a sharp laugh. "Get Y/n. Let her tell you why I've been seeing her out so much the past week."
Kenji winced, his eyes wide with alarm. "I don't think that's a good idea-"
"What's going on here?"
Aaron froze, and so did Kenji as Y/n's voice rang down the hallway.
Jack turned to meet Y/n's gaze as she stalked towards the three men, her brows furrowed.
"Tell them Y/n. Tell them how in love with you I am."
Y/n stared at him, bewildered. Aaron snuck a glance at Kenji, who was staring at the only exit, and Aaron could practically see the gears in his head turning.
"I- what?"
"Exactly. They think I'm here to take advantage of you somehow, and also because they miss having all your attention on them, they cornered me. Trying to do what, I don't know."
Y/n turned to glare at Kenji, who raised his hands and stepped away, avoiding everyones eyes.
"Jack, you go. Get some rest. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
Jack nodded, clasping her shoulder in farewell as he threw a scathing glare at Aaron, then stalked into the barracks.
"What was that about?"
"Hey! I did nothing-"
At one look, Kenji shut his fat mouth, retreating further as he realised Y/n's glare was now targeted at Aaron.
"You want to explain?"
Aaron swallowed, looking down at his shoes.
She sighed through her nose, rubbing her temples.
"He's getting married."
Aaron jolted, his wide eyes flying to hers.
"Well, not married. Yet. He has been planning on the best way to propose to his girlfriend. He was just asking me to help him plan everything."
Aaron stared at Y/n, not believing his ears. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Kenji disappearing down the hallway, and Aaron cursed him silently.
"I can't even begin to understand why you would do something like this-"
Aaron knew that if he didn't stop her now, she would keep talking, and while he loved listening to her voice too much to ever want her to stop, he also did not want to be yelled at.
And so what did he do?
Instead of telling her to stop, he stepped forward, and in a moment of sudden confidence, he grabbed her face, intending to hold her until she stopped speaking.
Alas, she had other plans as her eyes fluttered shut instantly, her hands flying to hold onto the lapels of his jacket.
And of course, Aaron was not about to miss a chance to have what he always wanted, so he leaned forward.
And kissed her.
Shatter Me Taglist: @dahliawarner
Permanent taglist: @cassie6392 @bubybubsters @harrystylesfan2686 @berryzxx
#aaron warner#aaron x reader#shatter me x reader#shatter me#shatter me headcanons#shatter me series#juliette ferrars#tahereh mafi
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5,161 words. gn!reader, hybrid!au, hybrid!reader (calico cat), pirate!hayato. ownership, collars, penetrative sex, fingering (reader!receiving), pet names (angel, kitten), torture (not reader receiving). hybrid!oc side characters. reader is described as thin and malnourished.
a/n: god i don’t know what came over me. jesus christ.
I’m gonna murder you.
That was the first thing you thought of when the smugglers stuffed you into this crate. It hadn’t been without injury; you’d gotten a chance to scratch and nip at some of the arms in your vision, with yelps and cursing following. One had swatted at you, which had been met with sharp teeth sinking into his hand. He’d howled in rage, holding his hand as the top of the box had finally been shut and locked. From there, you don’t know where you’d been put; the box was small enough where you’d been cramped, not allowed out unless it was in the captain’s quarters, and even then he’d expected you to sit so still next to him.
Financial success. That was a phrase you’d recognized, one that had been associated with your calico heritage, and was probably the reason why you were on a smuggler’s ship in the first place. Why you were really here was a mystery, kept from you, which suited you perfectly fine. You didn’t need to know why you were there, only that you had to escape somehow. Something deep within you had told you that this ship was cursed; and the growing quiet outside, eerily silent, did not speak of a smooth journey. Most ships in this star system were bustling, even during the long journey. This one was quiet…too quiet.
Sure enough, all of a sudden, there seemed to be a much more intense commotion going on outside. Cannons were going off, an awful, acrid smell spreading down to your little hovel in the base of the ship. It made your nose twitch, but you knew with a sinking feeling who it was attacking the ship. Who else could it be?
PIRATES.
Your hands were pressed over your ears, doing their best to hide the noise from outside but did little to protect your hearing. Your tail, tight around your body due to your confining box, couldn’t help but twitch whenever you heard a cannon go off. From the suddenly loud footfalls above you, it sounded like the pirates had managed to get on deck. Gurgling and heavier thuds permeated the sounds, as well as cackling noises from the intruders, and then…silence.
Gentle footfalls broke the quiet, and you braced yourself as they began to move around above you, stepping down stairs and sounding as if they were in the same room as you. You tried to make yourself small in the box, as small as possible in the corner as you hear someone scrabbling at the box. “Boss!” you hear a voice say, “Looks like they got some pricey cargo. Sounds like a smuggler ship to me.”
Another voice chimes in, smoother. “Open it.”
You clap your hand over your mouth, resisting the urge to snarl. You’d been hit for that, and you weren’t keen on being hit again over it.
A jingle of keys, and the box opens in the front. Light streams in, and you have to blink several times for your eyes to adjust before heads crowd the opening. You can’t make out details, but you do hear whispering between them; the special scent of other hybrids hits your nostrils, making you want to curl further into yourself. Hybrid and poor thing and why were they smuggling this are thrown around, before the heads clear and a singular man squats down in front of you.
He’s gorgeous.
Tasseled earrings swish as he kneels. The one eye you can see has nothing but kindness in it, a strange emotion to see in the eyes of a pirate captain. His garb is typical of a captain as well; a black coat with golden lapels, black pants and black boots scuffed from many adventures. The eye patch over his other eye is frayed as well, needing a good stitching.
He doesn’t say anything, only rakes his gaze over you. You don’t even realize you’re shaking until his hand reaches in, and you resist the urge to bite him. Unlike the smugglers, he doesn’t seem to have any ill will for you. His movements are slow, easy to anticipate, something you appreciate after the harsh, rapid movements of the smugglers.
“Good,” he whispers, as if he can tell you’re holding back.
His hand finally stops in front of your nose.
Is he…letting me smell him?
He doesn’t move, so you lean forward just a little, sniffing at his palm. It smells musky, like a strong cologne you’ve smelled before but can’t put your finger on it. It sends an electric shock through your system, almost as if you were meant to be found by him. Something about this feels fated somehow, and unconsciously, you move forward and push your head underneath his hand.
His touch is soft as he scratches between your ears, the contact forcing a rough purr out of your throat as you slowly move forward. You don’t leave the box, but you do let him pet you. That’s enough for you right now; feeling someone’s gentle touch against you, raspy purrs in your chest.
“Captain?”
One of the shipmates speaks behind the man in front of you, who looks back. “Yes?”
“Are we…takin’ it with us?”
“It?” The captain’s tone is sharp all of a sudden, like a knife. The atmosphere thickens.
There’s an audible gulp. “I, uh…them, I guess.”
The captain nods, turning back to you and coaxing you out of the box. Your legs feel cramped after having been stuck in that box for so long, and you can’t help but stretch out, groaning at the snaps and cracks and pops of your joints. Your tail swishes behind you, low to the ground, as you extend your arms out in front of you, your short claws digging into the wood as you wriggle out all the cramps.
“Can you stand?” the captain asks you, offering his hand. You nod, not up for speaking just yet as you grab his hand, standing on wobbly legs. You’re shorter than him, somehow, considering he can’t be more than five and a half feet tall, so you look up at him with big, brown eyes, waiting for what he’ll do next.
You go to take a step with him, and almost instantly, your vision blurs and darkens. Someone catches you, you presume the captain as he barks an order at the shipmates that had been surrounding him. The blood rushing to your head is too much, having not been on two legs for so long, that you let the darkness drift you away, hoping when you wake that you’ll be in a safer place.
A sentence meets your ears, causing them to twitch just before you go under.
I’ll take good care of you, kitten.
You awaken to fuzziness pushing against your cheek.
Immediately, you start, before grimacing and feeling the wooziness still in your head, your hand reaching up to press against the painful spot. It seemed to be a headache; you can’t recall the last time you’d eaten properly, only being forced to consume bathwater and moldy food. Your stomach felt small, so incredibly small, and you knew you looked thin as well. Not like you’d been chubby at any point of life, but starvation and malnourishment had done a number on you.
Upon inspecting the bed you’re lying on, it’s covered in fluffy, warm blankets that smell similar to the musk of the captain. There’s food as well, the scent hanging in the air and forcing you to lean over to the side table. A plate with piping hot food (what looks to be a stew) and a tall glass of water sit, ready to be devoured.
You can’t help but drool a little, wiping the spit on your chin as you go to take a bite of the stew. You’d never had stew before, only heard stories about how many ingredients it has and how rare some of them can be to harvest. As the food hits your palette, you can’t help but hum at the heartiness of it, the warmth spreading through your body. The water follows the food, eliciting a sigh as you take another scoop of stew—
You drop the spoon in the bowl as you hear the door open, chattering from the deck seeping in past the doorframe. Luckily, it’s just the captain as he shuts the door quickly behind him, before approaching your bed.
The draft from the open door hits your skin, and you pull one of the blankets around you, redness flushing your face. I didn’t realize he’d taken my clothes. Not that they were “clothes” in the traditional sense to begin with; they had been scraps at best, hanging off of your thin frame, but feeling them gone and you bare in front of him felt wrong.
He has a soft smile on his face, his earrings tinkling as he walks. He seems to ignore the fact that you’re naked, too, which you appreciate. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, and you nod, still a little bashful. You’re probably too trusting of him so quickly, but…something about him makes you feel relaxed.
He sits on the edge of the bed, beckoning you close. You move as if attached by a magnet to his hand, pushing your head underneath it and purring as he gives you some scratches. There’s a noise of a bell somewhere, and you feel his hand brush against the soft skin of your neck, reaching for the ratty leather collar that the smugglers used.
You almost forgot about it, but you can’t resist hissing as his hand goes to grab it, jerking back. “No!” you cry out, and he releases the collar immediately, holding both of his hands in view. There’s something sad in his eyes, that makes you soften again, the bristling on your head relaxing. “Sorry,” you rasp, “’m sorry. Just…sensitive.”
He nods. “Can I remove it?” he asks. You nod.
He asks for permission at every turn, asking to rub the redness from your neck when the collar comes off. He adds some medicine to the burn, tutting. “Those smugglers had no idea how to take care of you, did they?” he questions, mostly to himself, but you shake your head anyway. You don’t remember much before the ship, mostly hiding in alleyways and making a name for yourself. You’d managed to hide your hybrid elements for a while, but the smugglers always find out eventually. It’s how they work.
Your eyes slide closed at his movements, his firm touches against your sensitive neck, and his cooing voice in your ear, telling you it’s going to be okay. One sentence remains as you drift off, feeling yourself grow tired after eating your fill of the soup and being freed of that disgusting collar.
Call me Hayato, angel.
Hayato was as fierce as he was kind, however.
You’d gotten used to accompanying him to meetings, sitting next to him obediently. He’d given you a much nicer collar, a black one with a shiny silver bell on the front of it, tinkling whenever you moved. He’d dressed you in much higher quality clothes, as well; similar to his own garb, you’d gotten a black jacket, white shirt, black pants and black boots. Thankfully, he never found a reason to give you a leash, and you stayed close to him enough where it wouldn’t matter. You weren’t a canine hybrid, after all.
However, today, there was an interrogation.
Of one of the smugglers they’d captured.
You’d sat, curled up in your seat as Hayato stalked around the smuggler in question. He’d been beaten before he’d been brought in, sores and welts disfiguring his face. However, he recognized you, and that led to where he is now; at the bad end of Hayato’s whip, lashing out whenever the smuggler gave him an answer he didn’t like.
“What were you doing with them?” Hayato asks sternly, pointing to you. The smuggler clams up, shaking his head. “Can’t—can’t tell,” he stammers out, and the tension in the room skyrockets. It’s almost hard to breathe as you stare at the man through slitted eyes, your ears pinned to your head as you hiss at him. He winces again, and flinches as Hayato squats next to him. The shipmates around him are bristling, almost waiting for the command to tear him to pieces.
You’d noticed, recently, that many of the shipmates were also hybrids. There’s a wolf hybrid, always barking at one of the golden retrievers that never seemed to be able to mop the deck fast enough for him. He had a massive scar up his snout, crossing one of his eyes and rendering it blind, his ears and tail jet black shot through with red (that you imagined he dyed himself). The retriever was larger, more stout with big brown eyes, and much more of a yapper. It was like watching night and day.
That meant this was personal for Hayato. He had a stake in this.
You made a mental note to ask him why he kept rescuing hybrids, but it seemed as though he did it for justice more than anything else as he lashes the man once more, a wail tearing itself from the injured man’s throat as a massive welt appears on his bare back, blood oozing to the surface.
“Can’t tell me? You know your captain has been killed, correct?” Hayato’s tone is clipped.
The man gasps. “No! He’d never go down that easy to the likes of you,” he spits, and Hayato’s face splits into a smile. A smile that a carnivore would have, when its prey has caught itself in a trap right in front of it.
“Never? Well, he seemed to go down quite easily before the barrel of my gun.”
The smuggler gulps. “F-Fine,” he stammers after a moment, “what do you want?”
Hayato sighs. “I asked you already. What did you want with this hybrid? Come now, keep up.”
The smuggler looks back up at you, and smirks, having a lick of courage flashing in his eyes. It made your blood feel cold*.* “That one? Oh, they’re a pretty one. Pro’lly had it on there so the captain could stick his cock somewhere—”
The blow that lands on his face is loud, a crrrrrack echoing through the cabin as the man slumps, gasping, almost unconscious. Hayato’s face is stern, a rage in his eyes that looks like fire. He doesn’t shake or flinch, but moves in a calculating way as he shifts to be right in the man’s vision. “Disgusting,” he says, spitting on the man’s face, which is met with a faint groan, “fucking disgusting. People like you deserve nothing in this world. Would you have even asked for consent, or do you also think you’re entitled to that as well?”
You’ve curled inside of yourself as soon as you heard the words the man had spoken. The lust in his voice was clear, and you couldn’t help but want to hide, hide away from prying eyes and from anyone who saw you as a pretty little hole. It made you feel dirty, and thankfully nothing had happened before Hayato had arrived, but…what if he hadn’t? What would your fate have been?
The smuggler coughs, blood spraying on the floor. You look over at the wolf, and notice the drool dripping from his mouth. He can smell the blood, of course he can; and he looked like he’d want nothing better than to devour the man in front of him. His teeth are digging into his lip, and the retriever’s hand moves to grip the wolf’s, noticing his tail swishing.
The smuggler grins through the blood. “’Course ‘m entitled. It was my property, yeah? I could do whatever I want to it, and so could the captain.”
The rage that’s swirling in Hayato’s eyes only strengthens as he looks up and glances at the wolf, meeting his feral eyes. The wolf’s muscles are ramrod straight, and he’s shaking at having to hold himself back. The retriever does his best, but it’s not enough. It’s nowhere near enough.
Hayato says nothing, turning on the smuggler and moving to you, instead, worry clouding his eyes as the rage dispels. He moves in a way where you can’t see the smuggler anymore, and kneels down in front of you, cupping your face.
He removes one hand, and snaps his fingers, the crisp noise echoing around the cabin.
Within an instant, you see the wolf charge in, claws tearing at any part of the man that he can get his hands on from the noises that elicited from the movements you could barely see. His nails are long, never cut but only sharpened and fine-tuned, like ten small blades attached to his fingers. Blood sprays all over the cabin, the man’s screams echoing around the cabin.
You see none of it. Hayato sits in front of you, taking up all of your vision, his big eyes staring deeply into your own. There’s safety there. “Look at me,” he whispers, and you comply, because how could you not when someone who barely knew you fought for you without needing a reason? Even if there had been a reason, you had a feeling that Hayato would have done it anyway.
The retriever moves in after the wolf is done and silence has fallen, cleaning up after him. The wolf staggers back, and you attempt to peek over Hayato’s shoulder, who gently moves your face back to look at him. “Don’t look at him,” he says softly, “I don’t want you to see this. Just know that he’s gone and he’s not coming back.”
You shivered. “Okay.”
That night, you can’t help but hear the man’s screams.
The clean-up after had been out of your vision as well, the retriever doing his best to keep you out of the cabin. It had been difficult, but due to his brawn there was no way you could have forced your way in. So, instead, you chose to lounge in Hayato’s quarters, which you’ve now discovered is where you’d woken up. You chose your own bed instead, having had it closer to the door, and you’d toppled onto it to sleep.
You dreamed of terror, horribly vivid dreams with hands touching you where you didn’t want them. Voices telling you you belong to me, I can do what I want echoing through your brain. You couldn’t talk back, or hiss or scream for help; your vocal chords were shot, tightened, frozen in place.
You’d woken up in a pool of sweat, shaking and shuddering in the middle of the night. The ship was moving gently along the galactic current, the stars outside bringing soft light into the cabin. There was a planet you were passing, its bright aura dousing the cabin in a pretty glow of orange and purple.
Wiping the sweat off your brow, you crawled over to Hayato’s bed. You felt terrible asking him to soothe you, but you simply shed your clothes and crawled under the covers with him, thinking nothing of it.
Instead, Hayato’s eyes fluttered open as you slid under the blankets, getting yourself comfortable. “Are you alright?” he rasps, blinking sleepily as he drags you to him, a soft yelp falling from your lips at the movement, before smoothing into his grip. “Nightmare,” you whisper, and his grip on your only tightens. The bell around your throat jingles.
“Oh, angel,” he whispers, scratching that space between your ears that he knows you love, “it’s alright. I’m here. None of those bastards will ever lay a hand on you again, I promise.”
It’s silent for a moment, before your mind begins to wander.
You can feel that Hayato is only dressed in sleep pants, and for some reason, that makes you feel warm. Something stirs inside of you, your stomach tight as you turn to look at him. Whatever is in your eyes makes his grow dark, and he grins. “Do you need me to take care of you?” he asks, and you nod. There was something about having Hayato do what the men in the nightmare did; call it reclaiming power or whatever you’d like, but having it with the person you trusted the most (currently) felt like it was wiping away the previous horrible ordeals you’d been through.
His lips slot against your own so gently that you almost don’t notice, and a purr is shared between your connected mouths as his tongue slides against your lips, asking for entrance. It licks into your mouth, hot and wet and strong, easily taking control from you. Your tail swishes against the covers, and your thighs clench at the motion.
“My pretty little kitten,” he murmurs against you, “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
His hands drift, down to your hips as his nails sink into the skin. The motion has you trembling against him, small ah’s escaping your mouth as he breaks the connection between you two, looking at you like you’d hung all the stars in the galaxy. He looks at you in a way he doesn’t look at anyone else, and it makes your chest feel warm.
As he maneuvers above you, you can’t help but blurt out, “My first time. This, uh…this is my first.”
He stops dead in his tracks, gaze hot on your lithe body. “I’m your first?”
You nod hesitantly. “B-But I do want this. With you. Promise.” You don’t know how else to say it, or how else to beg for it because now that he’s kissed you, you need him everywhere. Particularly, between your legs, where you can feel wetness beginning to build between your thighs. Who cares if it’s going to be something you regret? Right now, it felt right to reward the person who’d saved you twice over.
He pauses for a moment, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate. Then, he smiles, moving back to your lips and capturing you in a long kiss, teeth clacking together. You sink your canines into his lip, just enough to indent the skin, and he groans into your mouth.
“I’ll be gentle,” he says, moving down to spread your legs in front of him. You feel your ears twitch as he does so, gazing at your center and how it drips onto the blankets beneath you both. There’s a flush on your cheeks, you can feel the warmth on them as he reaches out and runs a long, thin finger through your lips, from your center up to your throbbing clit.
As soon as his finger taps your nub, you jolt, your hips unconsciously bucking into his own grip. There’s a grin that splits across Hayato’s face, and he doubles down on the movement, leaning over you to get closer, his lips hovering inches above your own. His eyes are blown wide, almost black with lust as he watches you unfold beneath him.
The whines and whimpers that fall from your mouth aren’t in your control; you can only react to him, shuddering and shaking beneath him as he continues his movements. “Have you ever cum before?” he whispers, and you shake your head. You’d never touched yourself, either; it’s not like you had the time for self exploration, and Hayato can certainly tell with how sensitive you are. It’s almost like you’ve been pent up, all this time, your need pacing the grounds of a cage, yowling to be let out.
He smiles at you. “I’m going to make you, don’t worry,” he says gently, “get you nice and ready for me.”
You can feel it, the arousal, tightening in your stomach like a spring. It’s all so much that tears are pricking at your eyes, dribbling down your cheeks as you sob. “Feels ‘s good, Hayato,” you whine, and his smile only grows as he picks up the pace, his fingers rolling and pushing against you. “Good, angel,” he responds, “now, can you cum for me? Can my pretty kitten cum for me?”
You’d never been one to follow commands, being a feline hybrid, but something about his voice had you spurting all over the blankets without a second thought, a cry ripping itself from your throat as you cum. He watches you do so, his gaze a burning fire that’s tearing through you, watching your body jerk and shake and shudder beneath him as you ride out your high. You can’t tear your eyes from him, not with how intense he looks and how happy he looks, his pride for you written obviously all over his face.
His fingers leave you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath, before he’s there again above you, lips attached to you.
“You did so wonderfully, angel,” he says against you, his hands pulling off his pants, “so, so good for me.”
Your head is light, as if there was a dam broken that suddenly made you feel like you were walking on air. When his cock brushes against your center, you wince, feeling the head prod against you. “T-too big,” you manage to get out, and he pulls you in close, bracketing your head with his arms, pressing kisses to your forehead.
“We can stop if you want to,” he says softly, but you shake your head. Now that you’ve gotten a taste…you need to feel him inside of you. Claiming you. “No, it’s okay,” you manage to get out, and he holds you close as he positions himself, slowly breaching the ring of tight muscles.
“Just relax, kitten,” he says, “relax and let me in. Let me make you feel good.”
Your breaths are deep, following his motions as oxygen flows in through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly, you feel him enter, and while it does burn, it doesn’t hurt. In fact, his cock slides in relatively easily thanks to the wetness lining your walls, and—God.
“S’ full,” you moan, and his forehead drops to your own as he pants. You can feel him restraining himself from slamming into you, adjusting to you. “You’re so tight,” he whispers, “hugging me so good, angel. Fuck.”
You stay that way for some moments, connected so divinely that you could’ve fallen asleep right there with Hayato’s cock keeping you nice and open, but that was a pipe dream. Instead, he slides out so slowly that every ridge of his cock rubs against your walls, and when he slides back in, the head hits this part inside of you that feels spongey and feels so good. You let out a shudder and a high-pitched squeal as he slides in and out faster, and when you look at him, he’s grinning. You don’t think he’s stopped grinning and smiling this entire time.
“Holy shit, kitten,” he pants, “don’t wanna cum too fast. Wanna feel you more.”
You nod, sighing as he sheaths himself inside of you once again. “Faster. Please, Hayato? Make me cum again?”
He pauses, looking at you questioningly. “Are you sure?”
You nod far too quickly. “Yes. Promise.”
The next snap of his hips has you seeing stars, bullying against that spot within you that makes you feel warm and tight and ready to explode all over him again. The pace is fast, but it’s not brutal; it’s like a ship, swaying and prodding and pounding rhythmically, like a song. Like a galactic song that’s been known across space and time.
He pushes himself up onto his palms, sweat dripping onto you as he rails into you. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he says, cupping your face with one hand and keeping himself up on the other. Skin slaps against skin, and your moans and whines all but spur him on to moving even faster. Your mind is unraveling with every thrust, every prodding movement to that spot within you only making you wetter. Squelching noises echo around the cabin, and your thighs clench around Hayato, your ankles unconsciusly locking behind him.
“G-Gonna cum, Haya,” you mumble, and his eyes screw shut as he lets out a groan that’s so loud that you expect half the ship can hear you both (if they couldn’t already). “Cum on my cock, kitten,” he says, panting and opening his eyes and looking directly at you, “I know you can do it.”
And you do. This one hits you even harder than the last, your vision almost whiting out as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Along with your walls trembling around him, you can feel Hayato growing close; you’re not sure exactly what it looks or feels like when a fully-human man comes, but with the stuttering of his hips and the way his cock feels inside of you, it’s no secret he’s about to finish as well.
So, you find some crude bravery as you lean up and whisper in his ear.
“Cum inside of me, Hayato.”
He gasps. “Oh, fuck,” he gets out, trembling, before he’s spurting inside of you with a growl that makes every hair on your body stand up. He starts babbling against you, the dirty words weaving their way into your mind and making you shudder and shake around him as you finish together.
“Fuck, gonna fill this pretty little hole. You’re mine, you’re all mine, nobody else can touch you but me. Only me. This is my little hole, only mine, mine, mine.”
Eventually, his arms collapse and he drops onto your chest, heaving and panting as he presses a kiss to your chest. You’re no better, drawing in deep breaths as you come back to center, your vision clearing as you feel the blankets underneath you and Hayato’s body stuck to your own through sweat and other bodily fluids.
You lay like that for some time, his hand lazily scratching between your ears, pressing small kisses to your shoulder where he can reach without moving. He looks up at you then, a stupid grin on his face. It’s almost dopey.
“I never thought I’d meet a hybrid like you,” he says, and you scrunch your nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you shoot back, and he lets out a giggle that makes your chest feel warm and cozy. His hand cups your face, and he pulls you down to press a kiss to your lips.
“Only that I adore you.”
The sentence wraps itself around you, holding you comfortably as he cleans you both up, changing the blankets and producing fresh ones. You nestle into the bed, Hayato’s arms wrapping around you tightly, as if someone was going to crash into the cabin and take you away from him.
At least, that’s probably what he thought.
Feeling safe in his arms, you drift off, feeling more safe than you’ve felt in years.
He adores me.
And he does.
divider credit: @/benkeibear
networks: @thehoneypotserver @enchantedforest-network
disclaimer: DO NOT copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!
© kakuchari 2023-2024
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★ jean moreau appearance hcs because i love him ★
he looks like a high-fashion model
you know how people talk about that "ugly model look"?? that's literally jean
his nose looks really big on his face, and he has one of those classic very French bumps on the bridge of it???? call me crazy but im in love
his nose is just so long and beautiful and i feel like it's probably the highlight of his face
sparce beauty marks on his face and i will die on this hill oml
he has one under his lip, maybe one on the side of his nose, some on his neck??? like one or two on his cheeks UGH
lemme pop off abt his eyes real quick
he has "bedroom eyes", very hooded, very tired-looking
they're a little downturned and it's so stunning
i feel like in general just the drooping quality of his eyes makes them look a little sultry????? correct me if im wrong 😳
the grey looks SO good with his super pale skin tone too and it just all goes together well
and the bags under his eyes are deep and dark from years of a fucked up sleep schedule and he looks so good with it
those eye bags are designer istg
(this is a side note, but imagine jean with his pretty eyes and smudged eyeliner??? that would destroy the masses (jeremy))
his eyelashes are longggggg!!!!!
and his eyebrows are very nice and thick please just give me this
AND and the space between the end of his nose and his mouth (philtrum??) is small, there just isn't much space there
BUT despite that he has a very defined cupid's bow UGGHHH
his bottom lip is a lot bigger than his top lip though and it makes his mouth look so kissable???????
dont even get me started on this man's bone structure (just kidding)
you can bet he has some of the most beautiful cheekbones you've ever seen and his whole face has this hollow look to it
not to be political, but this man has some BEAUTIFUL natural curls, but he couldn't take care of his hair super well in the nest so suddenly he's in cali and his hair curls and he's just like "oh"
just imagine jean-yves moreau always looking like a tired, off-duty, high-fashion model
but also i imagine him really boney, like those collarbones jeremy was obsessing over are prominent and so gorgeous
i feel like he has a really long, slim neck (idk why that feels so random, but i know it's the truth in my core)
he probably has some acne scarring on his cheeks, and speaking of scars, he probably has a lot of little ones here and there ((and then some big ones, too. but i don't really want to make myself sad, so just assume))
he's totally the type to have natural blush on his cheeks and i feel like that happens on his knuckles and knees, just all of those really pretty joints
i think i could talk about him forever but this post is getting long so i'm going to stop there, give me more jean appearance hcs because they're getting me through these last weeks of school
#all for the game#aftg#the foxhole court#tfc#the raven king#trk#the kings men#tkm#the sunshine court#tsc#jean moreau#jean yves moreau
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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TOJI
⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page
Zen’in Chiaki. Sixty-three. Location is in Okinawa, Japan… Reason for kill–tampering of legal documents within the company…
The more I read this shit, it doesn’t make sense to me. A Zen’in being targeted for fucking with documents? I have no fear when it comes to those fuckers, but I don’t think anyone would be reckless enough to get themselves involved with that family.
My time there had me witnessing the most gruesome shit whenever someone tried to interfere with their affairs, so anyone without guts would even try to take them out. Now I’m reading a contract with a sixty-three-year-old woman that’s on their shitlist for tampering?
Something’s not adding up, especially when the woman appears to be from that family.
Zen’in Chiaki? That name doesn’t ring a bell. Don’t remember my old man having any aunts, and all his siblings are men. Could she be a cousin? A wife? I have no fucking clue. But I need a more detailed reason why she’s being targeted to kill because I just don’t go around sniping old ladies for the hell of it.
Is this why Kong was up my ass about taking this contract? Because the person is a Zen’in? Does he think I want to take revenge on those fuckers who abused me and the ones who witnessed it? Maybe if I didn’t have Megumi, I’d find pleasure in this. However, I can’t take that risk and do anything that could possibly fall back on my kid.
Just when I was about to close the folder and call Kong to reject this contract, something in her file grabs my attention.
Target had relations with several members of the Zen'in Family.
“What the fuck…” That’s what this is? They want to kill some broad they all slept with? So she’s definitely someone’s mistress. My guess is she’s not actually from the family and was married into, and probably slept around for money.
Maybe now they’re not giving her what she wants, she went into tampering, they found out, and now they want to wipe her out.
That’s the only thing that makes sense. Some shit Kong got me into, but still–why does he want me to take this?
Pulling out my burner phone from my locked desk draw, I speed dial Kong to get a clear answer. Because at this point, I’m tired of the vague crap.
“Fucking pick up. I know you’re not asleep…” I mutter to myself. Most likely the fucker is up and smoking cigarettes yet the line is still ringing. “You got to me kidd–”
“Oh, fuck yes.” Did this… motherfucker really answer the phone while he’s balls deep in some woman? “Fushiguro–calling so late. Did you miss me?”
“You couldn’t get your dick together before answering the phone?”
He deeply sighs followed with a chuckle. “Can’t have my lover waiting for me.”
“Cut the crap. It’s about the file. Get the girl out the room or go somewhere private you can talk,” I say firmly.
“Ah, so you’ve finally read it. You’re going to take it. Yeah?”
“Why’d you give me this shit? Who’s Chiaki Zen’in?”
I hear him light a cigarette and take a puff. ��That’s not my family, Fushiguro. How the hell am I supposed to know?”
“Because you gave this to me! Now I definitely feel like you’re trying to set me up.”
“Fushiguro, get your fucking head out your ass and use your brain for once. What benefit do I get for setting you up?”
I shrug. “Money.”
“Like I don’t have plenty. It actually hurts that you don’t trust me as Megumi’s godfather.” Again with the banter because I know Kong loves messing with me.
“Fuck off.”
“And plus, I value my life. You’re a crazy son of a bitch. I know my place.”
At least he knows.
He continues, “Look—I think you should take the contract. It might help you get the answers you’re looking for. You don’t have to kill the lady, but maybe she knows something about what actually happened to your wife.”
I arched my brow. “And how would she know?”
“That’s why you fucking ask, genius. If Naoya overheard them talk, there’s a possibility she could’ve as well,” he says. “If she was a mistress, then they might’ve talked around her without realizing she’s listening. Take the contract, go find her, and get answers.”
Kong does have a point.
Since that Zen’in fuck insinuated my old man had something to do with my late wife’s death, I’ve been losing sleep to do further digging, and have Kong do the same.
Asking my father or uncle directly won’t do anything because I know they’ll just lie. And quite frankly, if I ever see them again, I’d probably just beat them both to a pulp. So maybe seeing who this Chiaki Zen’in woman is would help me get the answers I need.
The convenience of this contract is that it’s due in three months—around the time I’m flying to Tokyo. What an interesting fucking trip this will be.
“Alright. I’ll take it.”
three weeks later…
“Y/N, where… are… we?”
Alright—when Y/N said to take the day off because we’re going on a date, never did I expect for her to take us to a Formula One track race. Especially to a race that I thought was fucking sold out.
And the craziness thing is—I never mentioned wanting to go, so how did she know?
Is this the fluffy shit they talk about in relationships? Remembering what your partner enjoys to make them happy? Because when it comes to Y/N, I’ll do whatever just to see that pretty smile on her face.
Just don’t expect that to happen to me, though. Simply ‘cuz I’ve never experienced it. But since I made Y/N mine a little over a month ago, she’s gotten me used to certain shit.
Dates. Skin to skin contact in bed. Fucking self care routine that involves this retinol concoction I still don’t understand but visibly see the difference it does to my face.
And to top it off, making videos together where we dress up in coordinating outfits before we go out. All of this shit is foreign to me, yet…it feels damn good.
For the first time in a while, life isn’t too bad. Me and Megs are pretty decent, and now my relationship with Y/N. . . I have nothing to complain about.
“We’re at a Formula One—” Before she got the chance to respond, I crashed my lips against her to show my fucking appreciation. Her stiff nature shows she’s shocked at my sudden kiss, but she immediately relaxes in my embrace and the moment I grip her ass.
Those soft moans always taste the sweetest when we’re out in public, and Y/N must’ve forgot I have a exhibitionism kink.
“I know where we’re at, Y/N.” I look into her eyes, hoping my own conveys how I feel at this moment. With how she’s smiling at me, I’m sure it does.
She’s so fucking pretty. Don’t think I’ll ever get over that.
“Easy, big guy. I see the look in your eyes,” she teases. “We have the whole day together.”
I kiss her cheek before grabbing her hand to walk toward the stadium. “You’re wearing that tiny ass skirt around me and expect me to behave?”
“Toji—I could be wearing a cheese suit and you’d still want to fuck me.”
I throw my head back and chuckle. “Glad you know me, sweets.”
She nods with a smile. “I do.”
“How’d you get these tickets anyways? Tried to get them myself and they fucking sold out in a minute.”
“Your girl has some connections. Meaning, I know a guy.”
I raise a brown in concern. “Hope it’s not any exes.”
“No, baby,” she says through a giggle. “One of my students' older brothers, who I happened to be acquainted with, gave me his tickets.”
“Willingly?”
“You should know how charming I could be, Mr. Fushiguro.”
I shake my head. “Trust me. I know.”
She wraps her arms around mine and leans against me. “I’m excited, TJ. I’ve never been to a Formula One race before.”
“They’re pretty cool. Just here to bet some money, though.”
“Should I be surprised?”
“Nope,” I responded with an exaggerated pop sound.
“Well, I’ll just be the pretty girlfriend who asks a thousand questions.”
Being with Y/N is starting to feel like second nature to me. Her presence is so damn addicting and I know I’ll never grow tired of it.
Almost like if I keep spending time with her, these memories I’ve been having lately will start making sense. The shit is weird, and I don’t believe in anything… but I do believe in Y/N. I believe she’s it for me. And say if we don’t work out. . . Well, I’ll keep trying until we do.
Please, don’t leave me. That voice keeps echoing in my head, and I can’t help but think it’s Y/N.
I won’t, I respond internally.
“. . . Baby, you’re okay?” A soft, concerned voice overlaps my thoughts, reminding me I’m with Y/N.
“Y-Yeah, my bad, sweets.”
“You’ve been doing a lot of zoning out lately,” she says, brows slightly dipping. “You sure everything’s okay?”
“Positive,” I lied, not wanting her to worry.
She looks like she doesn’t believe me, but decides to drop it, which I’m grateful for. “Okay,” she replies with a soft smile.
Eventually we found our seats just before the race and I find myself itching to place bets with the fuckers around me. Never can pass up an opportunity to make extra cash.
“. . . it’s round one of the Formula One season of . . .” The commentator blares throughout the stadium with intros of each racer and all the other shit they say before the race begins.
Courtesy of whoever this person gave Y/N the tickets, our seats are pretty damn good. But, of course, the best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me.
The best view of the stadium is my girl sitting next to me. Wow, how fucking corny did that sound? I’ve been turning into an all time sap ever since I’ve seen Y/N for the first time. It’s not like I give a damn.
Told myself I want to be better for her because quite frankly, a fucker like me doesn’t deserve a girl like Y/N. And it’s not like I’m trying to convince myself of it either, but I’m known to be the Zen’in fuck up. The unlovable child. The accident. . .
Why don’t you understand that I love you?
Every time I even think for a second about all the fucked up shit my old man said to me, that familiar voice pops up in my mind.
However, I didn’t get a chance to think about it any longer.
Y/N’s plush lips were on mine, rewarding me with a kiss that brought me back to reality and rushed arousal to my cock. But still…it managed to be soft…longing…reassuring. . . The kiss put words in my mouth that felt weird for me to say.
It’s like she knew I was thinking about some shit that had me internally spiraling, though, rather than asking, she gave me a kiss that dispel any negative thoughts lingering inside of me.
“Hi, big guy.” Her voice is filled with tenderness, barely above a whisper when she looks at me with those eyes that say it’s okay.
Something I probably need to hear.
“So, how much do you usually bet on these games?” she asked, changing the topic from where my mind was.
“Depends, but Formula One races are usually filled with rich fuckers, so I bid higher.”
“. . . And this is the track we’re racing on today—fifty-eight laps. Three point two-eight miles per lap. . .”
Thirty minutes later, and the race starts. But honestly, I barely gave a damn about the race or betting since I was more invested in listening to Y/N’s commentary.
If it wasn’t her being concerned about the drivers crashing into the mountain of tires, it was her telling me how hot I’d look in the driver’s gear.
Her words. Not mine.
Whenever I was into the race, yelling at the track like a maniac because I eventually placed bets, she was right there with me—shouting like she placed bets.
Where I was serious, she took it as race shit talking.
Couldn’t believe this, but I was actually having… fun.
Fun.
Fuck, that’s another word that feels weird to say.
It’s the truth, though. And it’s all because of Y/N.
Kind of wish the kid was here with us, but I haven’t grown balls big enough to tell him I’m with his reading teacher. Seeing how my mood is with her, if I had him here, too, I knew I would be the cheesiest motherfucker in the world.
“Toji, be honest,” she starts, dragging me from my thoughts. “Do you actually ever win your bets?”
“Fuck no.” And something about my answer had Y/N bursting into a fit of laughter. “Damn, didn’t know me losing money was that funny to you.” I acted like I was offended, but she knows I wasn’t.
“Because the driver we're rooting for is losing, baby.”
I shrugged. “Nothing wrong with an underdog.”
“It is when you’re not profiting off the underdog in question,” she argues.
“Fair point.”
She sighs before standing up. “All this yelling has me needing the restroom, and I’m hungry. I’ll be right back.” She gets up, purposely stopping to where her ass levels with my face, and I know the exact shit she’s trying to pull.
“Okay, Y/N,” I simply say.
She giggles. “You want anything, babe?”
I shook my head, but pulled out cash to give to Y/N before slapping her ass, earning a yelp and pervert, from her while watching her walk away.
Definitely fucking her when we get back home.
This day couldn’t get any better. From the bullshit at work to this contract Kong finally got me to sign weeks ago, I didn’t realize how much I needed a day of me and Y/N.
Seeing how our conversations have been lately, she probably knew something was up with me, which technically, there is.
Just haven’t had the chance to tell her.
Don’t know if I will.
I mean, how exactly do I fucking bring up my family possibly had something to do with my wife’s death, and I’m taking a contract to find out more? Not happening.
Can’t have her thinking I’m full of shit and been lying to her the entire time. Can’t risk Y/N freaking out and potentially calling the cops. Can’t risk…
Losing her.
It’ll be a cold day in hell before I let that happen. Yeah, I talk down on myself and say how much I don’t deserve Y/N. But I’m a selfish son of a bitch.
Even when I know I shouldn’t have something (or in this case, someone) I’ll take it anyway. That’s just who I am.
A buzzing sound in my pocket gets on my fucking nerves and several missed calls and text messages from Kong.
And besides, I didn’t feel the damn vibration until now.
“What the…”
Here’s here. Here’s here.
Here’s here. Here’s here.
Here’s here. Here’s here.
I waste no time speed dialing Kong and maneuvering out the crowd to somewhere I can what the fuck is he talking about.
“Finally—”
“Speak,” I cut him off after he answered the phone. “Now.”
“I’m at the bar near the condo I’m renting and some geezer comes up to me and tells me to give you his regards,” Kong explains. “I’m wondering who the fuck is he. Then, I realized he reminds me of someone. You, Fushiguro.”
This has to be some kind of sick twisted joke.
The kind I don’t find fucking funny.
Twenty years. I have seen that bastard in over twenty years, and somehow he reappears in the city I came to start a new life in. Of all places.
The first person that comes to mind is that Zen’in brat that was adamant about having to do shit when that family, and now all of a sudden my old man is fucking here. That little shit is his eyes. I knew I couldn’t trust that motherfucker for a reason.
Pissed isn’t even the word to describe how I feel. I’m furious. My blood burns with rage and at this moment, if anyone even looks at me wrong, I’ll bash their face in picturing my old man.
You unlovable child.
Your mother should’ve aborted you.
Go in the street and die. Like I care.
You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re useless. You’re—
“Fushiguro!” Kong yells. “Are you fucking listening?”
No.
And it’s not like I can right now.
“Text me what you said. I have to go.” I hang up and throw my phone back in my pocket. I need to go. Now. I need to find—
“Y/N.”
Shit, my head was so far up my ass, I forgot she went to the bathroom and concession stand.
I peek over to find our empty seats, leaving me to believe Y/N hasn’t come back yet. So my next move was to rush near the restrooms, asking different women who’s coming out did they see a beautiful, dark skin woman with the additional description I gave them.
Some answered no, and others were too busy ogling like I would a fuck about their attention.
The concession stands were next, and it’s not helping that there’s damn near hundreds of them on this floor alone.
I know Y/N is fine. Probably just waiting in line to buy food. It’s just… I can’t be here right now. My lungs have grown tighter and it’s been harder to breathe since Kong told me about my old man being here.
I’m forty-two. It’s been a little over two decades. Shouldn’t be triggered by this shit anymore. I’ve forgotten. I don’t care. But that little weak boy inside of me is dripping out and reminding me that I’m still… not okay.
Maybe ‘cuz I’m worried about everything going good in my life now turning to complete shit the minute a Zen’in shows up around me. Specifically those two drunk fucks—my old man and his brother.
Y/N, where are you?
I’ve passed at least six concession stands already and still haven’t found her. Dammit, she probably got lost. I know this is her first time at a Formula One race, so she—
Don’t fuck with me.
Don’t fuck with me.
Anger blurs my vision when I look across to see Y/N and my fucking old man—talking. Talking like they’re old friends.
My strides are long and hard while pushing through the crowd, not caring about the glares, scoffs, or complaints from the people I’m pushing out my way. All I care about is getting to Y/N and getting her the hell away from my old man.
As I close in on them, I’m able to hear their conversation.
“Are you single by chance? I have a son that you would be fantastic with,” he says.
She nervously giggles, but not in the way she usually does… she’s uncomfortable. “Oh, uhm, no. I have a boyfriend—”
“Y/N!” I shout, causing her to turn around and look at me. The moment we lock eyes, relief floods her expression, confirming my observation of her being uncomfortable.
“Toji—” I pull her behind me to level with my father and grab him by his suit collar.
Of course he’s the same coward as before because the moment I snatched him up, three fuckers dressed in black ran toward us to protect him, but he held his hand up to stop them in their tracks.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth. I’m itching to kill him, and had it not been for us being in public or Y/N, no questions would’ve been asked.
“My dear son. Is this how you greet your father after twenty years?” The mockery and condescending tone is his voice makes me want to rip out his fucking throat. “Also, I see you lack manners as usual. Did you not see me talking to this beautiful young woman?”
“You have shit to talk about with her.”
His brows raised in realization. “Overprotective over a woman? Is this your significant partner?”
“Y–”
“No,” I answered, cutting her off and instantly regretting it. I don’t need to look at Y/N to know confusion fills her face. “Answer my fucking question.”
“Just making friendly conversation, is all. Am I not allowed to do that?”
“I-”
“Fushiguro,” Y/N interrupts. She catches me off guard by using my last name, but I guess it’s only fair since I denied she was my girlfriend. “Let’s go.”
The silent plea in her eyes makes me wish I never allowed this piece shit to pull a reaction out of me. ‘Cuz by the looks of it, Y/N is scared… and it’s all because of me.
You’re worthless. Don’t ever come near this estate again.
These damn thoughts in my head will do everything in their power to skin me alive. I’ll just ignore them… like I always do.
Last thing I want, which she probably already does now, is to regret being mine. So I took her hand, ignored that fucker and his condescending voice, and rushed through the crowd again to get the hell out of here.
“Toji,” Y/N calls me, sounding worried. “Toji, wait. Was that your—”
“Old man.”
My fucking old man.
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#anime x black!reader#anime x reader#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji x black reader#toji fushiguro x black reader#jjk x reader#jjk x black reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x black reader#toji angst#jjk angst
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bros before hoes ✰ chapter 08: 7th sense
wc: 0.7k
Sunghoon was used to loud sounds. Growing up on the rink, the rush of the howling wind as he danced was nothing. Performing at award shows and concerts in front of thousands and thousands of screaming fans? No problem.
But the thundering of his heart as he walked to the practice room was like nothing he had ever heard before. The consistent pumping of his heart drowned out his thoughts, forcing him to focus on each beat.
His heart was so loud, he could barely hear his own thoughts. Not that he was thinking much anyway.
He couldn’t wait to see Tsuki again, with her pretty pink hair and lovely eyes. The previous two times Sunghoon had seen her, he could barely thing. He could only focus on her and nothing else. She captivated him, with her soft voice and kind smile.
Before he knew it, Sunghoon was standing in front of the practice room. He could feel himself smiling at the thought of seeing Tsuki again, his heart picking up speed. He took a deep breath, forcing his heart to slow down. He wrapped his fingers around the handle, the cool metal calming him down as he pushed the door open.
Before he could register anything, he registered the song on the speakers first. It was the last chorus of 7th sense, a song he’d heard over and over again during his trainee days.
And then he saw you.
You were in the zone, focused on your movements, Sunghoon knew you didn’t notice him come in. He watched you, observing the way you danced.
The more we watched, the more mesmerised he became. The way you moved, so smooth and so sure of yourself, Sunghoon wondered if you were being controlled by another being. The way you hit every beat was incredibly satisfying, and the way you nailed the footwork was beyond amazing.
He stood there in awe, jaw on the floor. As the music stops, Sunghoon begins to clap.
‘Wow. That was… incredible…’ He whispers softly, slowly making his way closer to you. He walked in a trance, still reeling from watching you.
You yelp in shock, stunned to see him here. ‘Sunghoon?? What the hell are you doing here???’ Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, not just from the vigorous choreography.
‘Oh! Uh Jungwon told me Tsuki would be here???’ He says, face contorting in confusion. Your face began to mirror his, wondering why on Earth Jungwon would say that.
‘Ah damn, you can’t even go see her now… it’s almost 5, she’ll probably have Haewonnie or Jooyeon with her.’ You shrug, secretly happy that Sunghoon was with you, and not Tsuki.
‘Eh.. it is what it is. At least I got to watch you dance because Y/n holy SHIT??? You’re one of the best dancers I’ve seen!’ He lightly punches your arm, his smile wide and genuine.
You can feel yourself blushing, heat prickling your skin. ‘Please, you flatter me.’
‘No, no I’m serious!!! But why are you practicing 7th sense of all songs?’ Sunghoon looks at you quizzically, and you can’t help but be endeared by the way he jumps from topic to topic, his enthusiasm infectious.
‘Oh! Well award shows are coming up and I want to be in my best form you know? And 7th sense has a complex choreography, so it keeps me on my feet.’ You shrug, smiling as you grab your water bottle. Sunghoon frowns lightly, ‘But you’re already so good??’
You turn away from him, overwhelmed by his compliments. ‘Well, as they say, there’s always room for improvement! Plus, practice makes perfect, you know?’ You shrug, taking a sip of your water.
‘In that case, want to practice 7th sense with me?’ You choke on his words, almost spilling water all over yourself.
‘HUH?? I mean- What…?? Don’t you have other schedules?’ You ask, tapping your head before you could choke some more.
‘Nope! We’re quite free this week, other than our individual schedules…’ It takes you almost a full minute to process what he says, distracted by the way he shakes his head, soft hair flopping side to side, reminding you of a puppy’s ears.
‘So…? Do you want to practice together?’ He tilts his head, and instantly you are reminded of Berry, Chan’s dog.
You laugh lightly and agree, happy to have someone accompanying you.
You begin practicing, and it is as if you are two halves of a whole machine, and the dance comes out incredibly. You match each other’s dance styles, his fluid motions and beautiful contrast to your sharp footwork.
The time slips by faster than you both could have expected, and soon enough you’re parting ways, tired, yet content with the outcome of you practice.
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synopsis > with the help of fukutomi tsuki, park y/n finally gains the courage to face their long time crush, the one and only, park sunghoon. park sunghoon thinks it's love at first sight when he sees her. paired up as the new mcs of music bank, shenanigans ensue when y/n learns about sunghoon's crush...
note: this post would've come out a LOT earlier if not for a mix up between my sister's and my laptop 😭 also menace jungwon my love 😁 also i love sunoo :P
©️ yangkitties 2024 do not copy, plagiarise, or repost
#🎙️:bbh#enhypen#sunghoon#park sunghoon#enhypen imagine#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon fluff#sunghoon fluff#enhypen smau#park sunghoon smau#sunghoon smau#enhypen imagines#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fanfiction#sunghoon imagines#enhypen socmed au#enha socmed au#sunghoon fanfic#enhypen fake texts#enhypen sunghoon#enhypen drabbles#sunghoon drabbles#enha smau#sunghoon social media au
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A little party never hurt no one
PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader
CONTENT: Smutt
SYNOPSIS: Tom notices the reader is bored and decides to teach her how to party.
WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, unprotected sex, p in v, kissing, fingering, oral (f reciving), public sex.
When your friend asked you to go to the party with her your first instinct was to say no, but you were trying to change, fit in with other teenagers your age, so you accepted. Your mother always says you should go out more, wear shorter clothes, live more, do something crazy.
But you never really liked the idea of being in environments full of drunk people and loud music. You've always preferred the calm of your room, a good book to read and the company of your cat. Your friend always teased you by saying that your soul was that of an 80-year-old woman trapped in the body of a 17-year-old teenager.
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Now leaning against one of the walls of a stranger's living-room, you can understand why you always choose not to participate in this type of fun. Your friend disappeared shortly after saying she would get a drink and be back soon. You weren't really worried about her, knowing that she was probably drinking alcohol or making out with someone, probably both.
Your eyes traveled around the large room as you look in the people around you. Is everyone really having fun or are they just pretending to fit in? You thought randomly until your eyes landed on him.
You watched as he happily chatted with a group of people. Your eyes roamed over him trying to take in every detail, from the piercing on his lip that glistened under the lights to the way he moved his hands as he spoke.
You'd seen him before, of course. Almost everyone knew him, as he talked to everyone and left all the girls drooling and wanting his attention. He seemed so confident in himself…everything you wanted to be. You shook your head, self-aware that you had been staring at him for too long and looked away.
The very loud music and flashing lights were starting to get on your nerves. You drank the rest of the beer in your glass in one go and grimaced when you felt the bitter taste on your tongue. In your mind it didn't make sense for anyone to genuinely enjoy drinking this kind of stuff, but it's easier to face a party when you're less sober, so you always get some.
You looked back towards Tom and were surprised to find that he was already looking at you. His brown eyes shone with intensity even from afar. You wanted to look away but you couldn't, mesmerized by the way he was staring at you.
You pulled your too-short skirt down, self-aware that you were wearing your friend's borrowed clothes and not the ones you normally wear. You saw a small smile form as his eyes strayed from your face to your bare legs.
One of the guys who was talking to him touched his shoulder to get his attention and only then he look away. You took a deep breath and were finally able to move again.
The cold air hit your face as soon as you reached outside. You walked a little further until you reached the side of the house moving away from everyone. The noise of the music could still be heard, but now it was a little more muffled.
"Bored?" You almost jumped out of your skin, too distracted to notice that someone had approached.
Tom was standing a few meters away from you with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face. You looked away, afraid that you would stare at him for too long and freeze again.
“I was that obvious?” You asked, trying to sound more amused than annoying.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you at a party and you were just standing there not interacting with anyone.” He approached you and out of pure instinct you took two small steps back.
“I don’t think I know how to party.” You laughed awkwardly as you shrugged.
He approached again, this time quickly enough that there was no time for you to back away. He being much taller you had to tilt your head back to be able to look at him.
His hand was on your cheek before you could look away again. "I can teach you." He whispered. The hoarse voice made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“I saw you looking at me.” Tom ran his thumb under her bottom lip and watched your eyelashes flutter and your cheeks turn pink.
“I wasn't-” You tried to say, but the look he gave you told you he wouldn’t believe your excuses. He knew you wanted him.
Tom smiled that insolent smile still staring at you, almost as if daring you to say you didn't want him, you swallowed hard as you felt his other hand caress your arm and your body.
You could feel his entire body pressed against yours, warm and firm. And you had to look away for a moment feeling too overwhelmed to look at him.
"Do you want me to leave?" He whispered in your ear and you felt the sensation of his warm breath against your skin. You could feel the dreadlocks tickling your neck. Was he testing you?
“I-I don’t-” You started, but were cut off when you felt his hand wander down the front of your skirt. Tom's fingers went higher, brushing the front of your panties feeling the wet fabric, and he bent down to whisper in your ear.
"Thinking about me, baby?" He slid your panties to the side and dipped a finger between your soaked folds, pulling them out quickly and bringing them to his lips, licking them clean, humming to himself. Your hands started to shake just thinking that you were standing outside a crowded house and anyone passing by could see you in that position.
"Even better than I thought," he whispered in your ear again.
Tom tried to reach his hand back up your skirt, but you caught his wrist in time.
"What are you doing? We’re in the middle of a party.” You whispered desperately. Your eyes wide in shock and excitement.
"No one will see us here, everyone is too busy." He said laughing before biting your neck.
You could feel him pressing your body closer to his as he whispered things into your ear. "You want me, admit it."
"I do. I've wanted you since I saw you." You replied, hearing your own voice as if it were someone else's. As if it came from far away. As if you weren't here and everything was a fantasy.
As if that was all he needed to hear, Tom pulled you until the two of you were in a darker part and no one could really see you two.
Before you could say anything, he pressed your lips to his, fingers curling around your chin as he sucked on your bottom lip, and the scrape of his teeth made your head spin. You took a dizzying step back, your back slamming against the wall as you kissed him back. For a second you lost yourself in it, drowning in the feeling of his body against yours.
Tom's hands slid down your back, undoing the knots in your shirt. He pulled back and smiled, head tilted, assessing you with sharp focus. The intensity of that gaze sent a new wave of need through you.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said as he cupped your chin with his hand and tilted your head back to meet his gaze. His face is beautiful and his eyes shine with desire. You sighed, not knowing how to respond.
He pulled your panties down and you shakily pulled out of it, distracted by the way his fingers slowly grazed your inner thigh.
He placed his hand under one of your knees, lifting your leg to the side, steadying you as you held onto the front of his shirt to keep yourself in place. Then he was sinking two fingers into you while watching your face closely. Tom smiled as he saw your eyes roll back and your mouth open in a silent scream.
"Tell me how much you like this." He ordered as he bit your neck. His fingers curled deeper into you with obscene, slick ease.
"I loved it, please don't stop." You moaned letting your head fall back, whimpering and rolling your hips.
Tom lowered his head, pressing his lips to your neck. Giving sloppy kisses anywhere his mouth could reach, feeling your wetness continue to soak his fingers. He lets his tongue run a long stripe back to your chin. Teeth nibbling at your skin as your breathing quickens, his dick begins to strain against the zipper of his pants. You can feel how hard he is against your belly.
You’re lost in the moment, a sobbing mess against Tom’s chest as you feels your legs shake. Your hands gripping anything within reach, the thin fabric of his shirt. His arms, wrists… But then you decide to take a risk and let your hand slide through his hair. You lift your hand to Tom's face. Gently brushing his cheek before tangling your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. Pulling, twisting them between your fingers as a low growl resonates in his throat making you smile to yourself.
"You're a tease, you know?" He says as he grabs your chin making you look at him. You try not to close your eyes or look away, too embarrassed by the way he looks at you. You can still feel his fingers moving quickly and deeply inside you, taking away any form of concentration you could muster.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I saw you walk through the door.” He says in an almost angry tone before removing his fingers from you and move away.
You feel your eyes fill with tears in a mix of frustration and adrenaline. You could feel your pussy throb with need after being prevented from reaching orgasm. You squeezed your legs together trying to get some pressure.
In the back of your mind, a voice was telling you to stop because anyone could come and see the two of you in this situation.
“Tom, I think we-” You started to say, but were cut off when he bent down in front of you and urgently lifted your skirt.
"Baby, just relax." He placed one of your legs on his shoulder, holding your thigh tightly so you couldn't bring them back together. Not that you would try. "I want to taste you."
The words made you shiver and the knot in your stomach tighten. You're so excited it's embarrassing.
Tom smiles at you predatorily before burying his face between your legs.
You moan loudly, digging your nails into the fabric of his shirt as you feel the pressure of his tongue under your clit.
You whimper and try to close your legs, but all you get is a hard slap on your thigh and a hard suck on your clit. You scream and squirm from the mix of sensations.
Tom sucks you like a starving man who has just found a feast, making obscene, slippery sounds.
You can feel the ball of heat growing against your belly, your toes curling involuntarily as you cum.
But Tom doesn't stop, in fact he seems even more committed now. Rolling his tongue uncontrollably against your pussy.
"Please." You whimpered trying to pull away. You felt so raw and sensitive. Tom chuckled against your pussy loving every scream and moan you let out.
You tried desperately to close your legs, the stimulation becoming too much.
"Please, I can't." You cried feeling tears blur your vision as another orgasm hit you.
Your shaking hands released his shirt and you used all the strength you had to pull his head away from your pussy. The instant relief was short-lived as Tom quickly slipped two fingers into you.
He laughed when he saw your eyes roll back and your body shake against the wall.
"Oh baby, I haven't even started with you yet and you're already begging." He taunted as he twisted his fingers deep inside you.
You couldn't answer him even if you wanted to. You were completely losing control, your body moving in a mixture of trembling and trying to escape his fingers. You were making sounds you didn't even know you were capable of, not caring who might hear.
"Seeing you like this squirming for me. I'm imagining so many things I want to do to you." He whispered as he held you in place.
Every time your hand tried to pull him away, you received a sharp slap on one of your thighs. You could hear him talking, but you couldn't take it all in, too focused on trying to deal with the unbearable mix of pain and pleasure.
Tom began rubbing your clit with his thumb as he felt another orgasm coming on and within seconds you were screaming and sobbing.
He watched your face, enchanted by the mixture of sweat and tears. Your cheeks were red and your messy hair stuck to your face.
Tom took his fingers out of you and sucked on them before get up and kissing you.
You barely noticed his lips against yours, tired and overwhelmed by three orgasms in a row in such a short space of time. Your whole body was shaking and your ears were ringing.
He was talking to you, but you seemed completely off. He watched you closely for a moment, your entire body red and sweaty. Your eyelashes were wet with tears and your mouth was slightly open as you tried to control your breathing. Honestly, you only didn't collapse onto the floor because he was holding you tightly. He smiled, pleased with the effect he was having on you.
"Let the fun begin." Tom whispered mischievously against your ear.
"I can't." You sighed almost pleadingly. You couldn't even feel your legs properly, you doubted you could handle another orgasm.
"That's not fair, baby." He whispered against your neck before licking and sucking at the sensitive skin. You sighed as you felt his hard dick pressed against your stomach.
You could feel your rational side leaving your body as the pool of excitement formed between your legs again.
"You're going to let me fuck you, aren't you?" He whispered in your ear while holding your hips tightly. You nodded and felt him smile against your neck.
"Good girl." He growled, pulling away from you a little and turning you onto your back. You let out a surprised gasp, your face and breasts pressed against the cold wall as he held your hips.
You heard the zipper click and soon he was lifting your skirt. You still felt your legs shaking as you tried to steady them on the ground.
You opened your mouth in a silent scream and dug your palm into the wall trying to steady yourself as you felt him slide inside you slowly. The stretching sensation was a mixture of pure agony and pleasure. You could feel you twitch around him as he began to move in and out.
Tom groaned throwing his head back as he grabbed your hips and slammed in hard into you. The feeling of being inside you was inexplicable, he felt as if he had been drugged with doses of pleasure.
"Fuck, you feel so good." He whispered in your ear with a husky voice and you felt your body shudder.
He wrapped one of his arms around your waist and pulled you to him, your back against his torso, without slowing his movements for a second.
"Tell me, what do you want?" You could feel his hot, rapid breath on the back of your neck. One of his hands brushed your hair to the side before coming down and squeezing your breasts hard. The movement made you scream and curl into him even more.
"Do you like it?" He chuckled before squeezing them again. You nodded wildly as you whispered yes. You were sure you would wake up with handprints tomorrow.
You tried to move your hands to reach him, but all you could properly touch was the arm that was around your waist. You groaned in frustration. You hadn't even touched him.
"I want to touch you." You groaned unconsciously. You knew Tom wasn't the romantic type, hell, he's fucking you in the back of a stranger's backyard and maybe he wanted to have complete control of the situation. He laughed into your hair and you thought he was going to make fun of you.
“Anything you want, baby.” He said in a sweet and mocking voice, and with a quick movement he turned you back to face him.
You took the moment to look at him, his hair was almost down now and his face was shining with a thin layer of sweat. He looked so beautiful as he leaned towards you.
"Do you like what you see?" He asked before fitting one of your legs around his waist and sinking inside you. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the welcoming warmth of his body.
He lowered his head against your neck and brushed his teeth against the smooth skin. It was tempting torture. You bit your bottom lip as you felt his movements increase. You opened your eyes and felt your entire body shake as your gaze met Tom's. His brown eyes shone with a mixture of excitement and wildness.
"Don't close your eyes." He ordered in a low whisper. You opened your mouth with a sharp moan before throwing your head back. He gasped, feeling your body heat up against his. You had a strange effect on him; managed to warm not only his body, but also his heart. And he shouldn't feel that way about you.
He smiled as he felt your hips moving against his. You felt your legs weaken and your toes curl with the effect of yet another orgasm coming. Your entire body heated up and you fell into an abyss of sensations.
Tom let out a low laugh in your ear and felt you squeeze his shoulder tightly. He didn’t dare slow down his movements, even with you writhing wildly against him. You pushed his shoulder trying to push him away.
"Shh, it's nothing you can't handle." Tom whispered in your ear. You looked at him pleadingly, not sure what you were begging for. Eyebrows furrowed and eyes full of tears. Tom loved that view.
"Fuck. You look so pretty like that, you know that?" He asked as he stroked your hair, brushing the damp strands off your forehead. You bit your lower lip to prevent a loud moan from escaping your mouth.
You felt the heat rise in your belly, an almost unbearable heat. Tom let out a hoarse moan as he felt your nails tearing the skin of his arm. He gradually slowed his movements until he was off of you, holding you in place so you wouldn't fall.
You knew he wasn't done yet. And in those few seconds that he watched you while waiting for you to calm down, your mind began to bombard you with self-judgment. You were being irresponsible like you've never been in your entire life.
When he approached you again, you tried to protest, but all you could do was let out a loud moan as you felt him invade you immediately. You grabbed Tom's arms, digging your nails firmly into his skin. He smiled in a muffled groan. He was so excited that he could barely control his movements now. His hand reached for one of your breasts and he pinched the nipple between his fingers.
"Tom, slowly, please." You asked with a shaky voice. You felt him peppering desperate kisses across your jaw as he moved harder. "Tom!" You called again, now pushing at his chest.
"Too sensitive?" He asked smiling smugly.
Even though you were embarrassed to admit it, you nodded. Tom slowed down his movements and looked at you. His face was like a mirror showing all the pleasure he was feeling and that was enough to satisfy him. But it also made him want more. He felt his body heat up with more desire as yours hips moved together, increasing the pace.
"Fuck it." He exclaimed when he felt you pulling his hair. He put one hand around your neck and squeezed just enough to restrict the air a little.
You smiled and pulled him towards you, tightening your leg around him. You moaned as you felt him increase his hips again.
You felt your orgasm return and you scratched Tom's back, pressing your body against his. He looked at you, breathing heavily before closing his eyes and opening his mouth, throwing his head back. You watched the scene with pleasure.
He moved a few more times before burying his face in your hair and letting out a muffled growl. You felt the warm liquid fill you as his movements gradually stopped. Tom sighed against your hair, smelling it.
He brushed the strands of hair out of your face and watched you for a few seconds, amazed to see you undone in his arms.
"We should party together more often." He said with an amused smile. You waved at him smiling, too tired to respond. You were under no illusion that Tom would want to be with you, but it was nice to hear it.
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#tokio hotel#tom kaulitz#gustav schäfer#georg listing#tom kaulitz smut#tom kaulitz x reader#bill kaulitz
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