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#i still have to send him that final 'i dont wanna speak to you ever again'

b1ueoff1ine · 1 year

Text

"Do It"

Avenger!Loki x Villain!Reader

Summary: When forced to kill you with a knife, Loki refuses to do it and instead stabs himself in the chest.

Warnings: HELLA ANGST. Enemies to Lovers. (Let me know if I missed any!)

A/N: eeeeee i'm excited about how this came out! also send me some requests! I have nothing to write! next part coming soon! anyone wanna be tagged?

WC: 1.2k

You flew around the side of the tall building, your wings lifting you effortlessly above the ground below.

But then you ran head first into the Avengers ship, snapping one of your wings.

Thor, the God of Thunder, flew with his hammer from where he was waiting below and grabbed your form with his wide arm span. It made your broken wing sting at the force of his grip.

All of the sudden you were on the ship and headed to the Avengers tower.

When you arrived, there was the whole of the Avengers crew in wait.

You squirmed in the grasp of the great Asgardian Thor. His brother was not far away, eyeing you with an emotion you were unfamiliar with.

"Let me go!" You hissed at Thor. He merely tightened his grip, making your wings hurt.

You were the winged villain, of whom was called the Fallen Angel, that had terrorized the city for ages. You were immortal like the Asgardian brothers, almost as strong.

But your strength was nothing compared to Thor's. He overpowered you in every way. That's what made you hate him so much.

You squirmed even more, but your wings hurt in doing so. So you stopped, no longer fighting his grip.

"Finally deciding to behave, are you?" Thor scoffed.

You gave one last resistant squirm before completely going still.

You gazed at Loki from where you were, curiosity filling your eyes. He cocked an eyebrow at you.

Your eyes said everything. They told him how you regretted what you had done and that you wanted to atone for what you had done. But no one would believe you. Nor him. He did have a villainous past, after all.

"Brother, let me take care of this." Loki spoke.

You had never met the Asgardian brothers before. You had seen them from afar, but never actually met them. You instantly found Loki's voice soothing and kind.

His voice sent chills down your spine. Thor seemed to sense the shivers, for he passed you off to Loki. Thor must have thought you were afraid of Loki.

You squirmed in Loki's hands, but this time you held back from using your true strength. You knew Loki was kind, but he was also ruthless. He could kill you if he wanted to. He used his magic to hide from you the path he took.

When you could see again, Loki was looking at you through a darkened glass panel. You were sitting in a large cell, nothing but white walls and a large glass panel separating you from the rest of the Avengers tower.

He seemed to be staring you down through the glass.

"LOKI!" You screeched. "Let me OUT of here!"

"I can't do that. You're a danger to New York." He replied, looking smug as ever.

"I'll get out of here- I'm warning you." You sneered

"I dont doubt that. Your strength exceeds mine." He said. You knew what he said was true. You were stronger. But that didnt mean you would kill him when you escaped. You closed your eyes. He was... different than the others. He was kinder. At least, kinder to you. He used a soft and warm tone when speaking to you, and he never, ever, raised his voice around you.

It made you curious. But it also drew you in. You couldn't resist his charms. He was different than every other Avenger.

You could tell he was new to the Avengers- you could hear everything that happened in the tower with your enhanced hearing.

You often overheard conversations between the Avengers speaking of how they didnt trust him and that he had only been with them a short time.

You opened your eyes as you heard the scuff of Loki's feet on the ground. He was turning around and walking away, shaking his head.

Loki walked away from the prisoner, silently shedding tears. He had watched every movement the Fallen Angel made, longing to be in there with her.

Ever since he first learned of her and saw her beauty, he wanted her.

He wanted her so bad.

It was painful to think about her suffering. So he didn't do it often.

He considered letting her loose and claiming it wasnt him. But she wouldn't understand his true intentions. So he left, his thoughts filled with the winged villain.

But his era of calmness was short lived. For he had orders to execute her at sundown.

"But why do I have to do it? She could kill me before I even got the chance." Loki said, just thinking of all the possible ways to get out of killing her.

"She has nowhere near the strength you have, I think you'll be able to. And besides, how else are you going to prove your loyalty to us?" Tony said, staring Loki in the eyes.

"Oh, please. Like I could defeat the Goddess of Flight."

"Goddess of Flight, eh? No match for the God of Mischief."

"Pfft. I think you're confused." Loki scoffed. "Its the other way around. I, even with all my magic, am nothing compared to her strength."

"If you say so. But she'll be contained, don't you worry about her killing you. There is no one else to do it- and no one else has to prove their loyalty."

"Fine." Loki sighed. A billion thoughts raced through his brain.

I have to kill her. I cant not kill her- the team would most likely sentence me to life in a God-proof cell. But I couldn't live with myself if I killed her.

I have to. That was his last thought before he entered the cell and summoned his signature glowing green blade.

It was time.

Loki raised the glowing green blade above his head, ready to strike.

He stared into the Fallen Angel's eyes as he waited for a reaction.

None came. Only a single tear, rolling down her face.

"Do it. " She snarled at him, staring him directly in the eyes. "Kill me. Go ahead. I'm begging you- kill me."

That's when he knew. That's when he knew he couldn't do it.

She was begging him for death- something he could never provide her.

So instead of bringing the glowing green blade down on her, he instead let his arm fall half way till it rested in front of his heart.

A single tear fell from his face.

The crew was all standing in front of the glass, waiting for him to make the kill.

But then he plunged the blade into his own chest.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #bored af #loki fanfic #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki angst #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x reader angst

99 notes · View notes

autisticandroids · 1 year

Note

ive had a tab open to send u this for like 3 days and i keep forgetting so its fine if u dont wanna do more directors commentaries (love when u do directors commentaries) but i would love to read more about so much smoke in a hall of mirrors <333

[the goal here is to provide a director’s commentary, a la the one i did for i fold in half so easily, though obviously less comprehensive. this commentary is for so much smoke in a hall of mirrors.]

lmao this is the one i've been waiting to be asked about. well, one of them.

“You know, he still isn't going to fuck you,” said Crowley, stooped over the lifeless body of a vampire and currently pulling out its fangs with forceps. The gray lighting of the lab turned the bloody work into a flat and distant thing, as empty as the flesh Crowley played with.

In lieu of replying, Castiel stared at him. He was too exhausted from the political situation in Heaven to try to parse Crowley’s meaning, and besides, Crowley could generally be counted upon to elaborate on his cryptic remarks if left to his own devices. This time proved no exception, but Castiel found Crowley’s elaboration no more enlightening: “Dean Winchester. He isn't going to fuck you just because you're God. Unless you make him, but you holy rollers are rather big on gaining consent before entry, far as I know.” Crowley leered. “I somehow don't think you'd be satisfied with that, anyway. Aren’t you Mr. Free Will, these days? Leading the downtrodden celestials to liberty?”

love to set some shit up <3. lines of consent will be crossed in this story. and cas won't be satisfied by it.

“What are you suggesting, Crowley?” Castiel narrowed his eyes. Every moment of this distraction was another moment they weren’t finding Purgatory, another moment that the war raged on, but Castiel could not keep himself from Crowley’s bait. “Why would my goal be for Dean to fuck me?”

“Exclusive top, are you?” Crowley smirked, still not looking up.

“What?”

“Oh, nevermind.” Crowley went on with his work. Castiel walked over to him.

crowley voice have you forgotten that you're the bottom in this relationship

“Why are you insinuating that I want to have sex with Dean Winchester.” It was a question, but it somehow became a statement in Castiel’s mouth. He found himself trying to loom in Crowley’s direction, his wings tense and ready to show themselves. Crowley finally looked up.

“My God, you really don’t know, do you? I can’t believe I have to give The Talk to an angel, didn’t you watch Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden or something?”

“I am aware–” Castiel began, starting forward, but Crowley cut him off.

“Doesn’t it hurt you? To see him with that woman?”

The question hung in the air.

Crowley looked at him as time stretched on. Castiel tried to answer.

“Dean and Lisa are… happy together.” He knew that his reply was inadequate. He knew that was not what Crowley had asked. Crowley knew as well, judging by the smirk he was sporting.

“What is it, exactly, that you want from Dean? Have you ever asked yourself that?”

“I want Dean to be happy. I want him safe.” Castiel stared Crowley down.

“That’s not all you want, feathers,” Crowley leered.

“Then tell me, then, Crowley,” Castiel advanced on the demon, who momentarily looked less sure of himself. “ What is it that I want?”

“You?” Crowley, regaining his composure, looked Castiel up and down, “I’d wager you’d like Dean naked on silk sheets with… hmm… fuzzy pink handcuffs? The really vanilla kind that close with velcro. Maybe a ball gag.”

It was the disrespect that got to Castiel. Not the disrespect to himself, but the disrespect to Dean. The disrespect of Crowley painting such a vivid picture with his words. Castiel could see it in full color.

His blade was at Crowley’s throat before he could think about it. He had his vessel’s hand around Crowley’s tie, and he’d shoved him against the wall. Crowley looked gratifyingly afraid.

“Do not speak of him like that.” Castiel could feel his wings unfurling almost of their own accord, and he watched Crowley cringe.

“Calm down, angel,” Crowley gasped. “Good lord. I’ll make a mental note that you get hot and bothered when you’re hot and bothered.”

crowley is obviously right here. this is the first of many moments in this fic where cas reacts to the triggering of his own desires with violence. like, crowley talking about dean in a sexy way forces cas to confront his own desires. which cas reacts to with violence because he can't process it. it's a loss of control that cas can't accept or deal with. like, desire is terrifying to cas it's so big and powerful and he can't escape it. and at the same time cas does, in canon, have a history of... equivocating between sex and violence, let's say. i'm not the first person to point out the erotic charge in his shoving dean against the wall in 4x22, or in 5x18, for example. there's his interactions with meg in 5x10, which blur the lines between sex and violence very effectively, and of course there's the famous crowley wall shove in 6x20. obviously i've argued in the past that that this non-sexual physicalization of sexual desire as a kind of naivete re: sexuality and i still think that's true. like cas is naive and he's acting out sexuality without understanding exactly what he's acting out like this bird that can't figure out why is isn't eating the worm, or at least, he is in seasons four and five. here, in the period between seasons five and six, cas is in his own kind of transitional place. he still lacks a certain level of awareness but he knows a little more now. he knows enough to feel uncomfortable, ashamed, afraid. he hasn't named what it is he wants to himself yet, but he's getting there. but anyway, cas attacks crowley partly because his own desire terrifies him, and partly because being caught by someone else in the act of experiencing that desire terrifies him and makes him ashamed, but also partly just because he's acting out a sort of erotic physicality.

Castiel yanked on Crowley’s tie, and he gagged. He stared into Crowley’s terrified eyes as the demon struggled for breath, holding Crowley inside his vessel with a wing over his mouth.

Then Castiel let him go.

Crowley coughed. He looked up at Castiel, angry and wary.

“Let no one say I don’t keep my enemies closer.”

Castiel stared at Crowley for a long moment. Then he took flight, not caring where he would land.

so! i wrote this whole scene basically as it is with very few alterations in december 2020. i then did not touch it for months, because i really needed to kind of rework WHAT the fic was, y'know.

“Barachiel, Zephon, Nuriel, Cambiel, Arakiel, Kokabiel, Uziel, Netzach. All dead,” Rachel said. “We should never have attacked the Seventh Layer.”

i spent so much time looking at lists of angels online to get these names. and THEN making sure they weren't in supernatural. because this fic is canon compliant and all these angels are dead. nuriel is specifically a reference to @spriteofmushrooms' fic though.

“It was our best option,” Castiel said, looking away. “We need access to the Conduits.”

“I don’t see how the Conduits can help us without a source of power. We should focus on conquering Heavens.” Her vessel’s nostrils flared. She was learning to use it to emote, it seemed.

“We need to be able to travel the Firmament freely.” She was right, of course. The Conduits were nearly tactically useless. But she didn’t see the big picture, and how could she? She would never understand what he had to do. This war wasn’t going to be won on the battlefield.

i was really concerned with this section. i wasn't sure it appropriately conveyed exactly what's happening. essentially cas and his revolutionaries are fighting a literally unwinnable war. they're outgunned and outnumbered. so cas is essentially just trying to keep his little revolution going long enough that his plan with crowley works out, because once he's god he'll be able to win the war for them. which means that his strategic decisions now don't really matter. he will always be sending his soldiers to die in unwinnable battles, because he can't TELL them that because they will turn on him. like, as much as working with crowley and becoming god is really his best choice here, they're angels, and they haven't had free will for all that long. they're not gonna get past their prejudice against demons, they're not going to get past their discomfort with blasphemy, and they're not going to get that sometimes you have to make tradeoffs. so all he can do is lie and abandon them to die while he sits in fantasy los alamos trying to make the bomb.

“Perhaps if you’d been there–” She turned from him, unable to handle what she herself was implying.

He wished he could tell them all where he’d been, what he’d been doing. Instead, he gritted his teeth. Once Purgatory was open…

“Losing, are we, Cas?” Crowley managed smug even as he squinted against the light of the Grace Castiel was spilling from a cut on his vessel’s right arm. Shameful relief that the battle was over flooded him. Yes, I am, Castiel thought, that’s why I need you. Outwardly, he scowled.

Crowley took his lack of response in stride: “Well, lucky for you, you’ve got little old me in your pocket. Come see what Daddy’s brought for you to play with.” He made an expansive gesture to the three alphas: siren, arachne, and ghoul, bound in warded restraints to metal rings in the wall of his lab.

we as a society need to acknowledge crowstiel daddy kink and how it could kinda bang. but like more seriously i do think of crowley as thinking of himself in season six as kind of taking cas under his wing, mentoring him, and specifically mentoring him in sin and moral ambiguity. and, crowley being crowley, he sexualizes everything. he's like dean, it's a defense for him, a way of eschewing vulnerability. hence, this absolutely rancid dialogue moment.

“Good.” Castiel nearly spat the word. He hated to praise a demon, but Crowley had done well. Surely one of these creatures could lead them on the road to Purgatory.

like his brethren, cas really hasn't gotten over his ingrained prejudice against demons, although he recognizes he needs crowley anyway. a lot of this fic is really about like. cas getting over himself. it's about him working through his sense of propriety. which is maybe good and maybe bad, but it's what he has to do in the situation that he's in.

He investigated each using tendrils of God’s Grace. The siren was in the worst condition, a line of ichor oozing from its mouth. Still, it was the only one to attempt to speak to him.

it can smell your weakness boy.

“Castiel,” it hissed, and coughed. A siren’s glamor was meant to show a human their ideal lover, but through the eyes of an angel it was only a soft, appealing glow about the naked, withered creature’s body. Their passive telepathy, however, apparently still worked fine.

Castiel cut the bindings on the arachne. He had work to do.

Rachel had said to him, “ Raphael’s forces are overwhelming. Dozens of angels have died, Castiel. And you… we don’t even know where you go. How can an army succeed if its commander is an absentee?”

And he’d said. He hadn’t said anything. He had nodded. But Rachel had been summoned by one of her lieutenants. And Castiel had found himself in Lisa Braeden’s kitchen, watching Dean stir powdered pudding into a pot of hot milk.

cas is also in this fic like. crucially his situation is simply very painful and stressful. so he's avoiding it. as is his wont. he's procrastinating. he doesn't i've said this before but the biggest thing dean is for cas in season six is a distraction. like, specifically an illicit one. he's neglecting his duties, and worse he's doing it for illicit reasons, and this is very shameful for him but it's also like. the only bright spot in his day. like, season six deancas thesis for cas is 6x10 "much of the time, i'd rather be here." he doesn't want to go watch his soldiers die. so he takes a little break. also originally the pudding was going to be custard because my family go wild for some bird's custard but americans don't eat that.

The woman and child were in the other room with the television, but the house was large enough that they could not be heard, even as Castiel sensed their presence. So Castiel watched Dean in his solitude, as he twirled the whisk in his skilled fingers, and reminded himself that this was what he was fighting for.

“I’ve brought you a gift.” Crowley grinned.

“A gift?” Castiel was perplexed.

“Took rather a bit of work, if I do say so myself. I was planning to save it until we actually succeeded, but then I thought, well, wouldn’t that be a bit pointless? Once you’re God , you’ll have whatever you please.” Castiel did not flinch. The obscenity that he and Crowley had planned was nothing short of a necessity. Crowley was still smiling. “And you look like you need a bit of cheering up. Politics doesn’t suit you.”

making it clear here: cas doesn't want to become god. it's blasphemous and it makes him uncomfortable. but something must be done.

“I see.” Castiel waited for Crowley to finish monologuing.

“Well, don’t you want to see it?” Crowley asked, giving Castiel a theatrical pout.

Castiel disliked being forced to agree to something, even if they weren’t exactly sealing a deal, but he was curious.

“Alright.”

Crowley snapped his fingers, and before Castiel stood– stood–

His own senses and the senses of his vessel told him different stories as to what stood before him.

He couldn’t… see it. There was nothing there. A whiff of something constructed and artificial, but it was… absent. Mindless. Soulless.

But it was there. It stood before him, and cast a shadow on the floor. A masterwork of molecules, a symphony of chemical and structural engineering, a tapestry of bone and sinew and nerves and blood and beating heart.

And his vessel’s senses told him…

A male human, nude and perfect. Full lips wet, glistening eyes wide, broad shoulders well-proportioned, sculpted muscles shining, soft skin tanned, flaccid penis large and shapely, strong buttocks beautifully rounded, long legs slender and graceful. It was–

Dean.

Castiel looked over at Crowley, and as soon as he did, cursed himself. He was sure his inner state showed on his face.

“Well, do you like it?” Crowley grinned at him. “The body wasn’t much of a hardship. The construction of flesh is well within my demonic purview. But giving it enough of a mind for any purpose you might want, that’s a little trick I learned from my dearest mother. A touch of magic comes in handy when attempting to construct a homunculus consciousness.” Castiel could only stare.

really important that i have crowley mention rowena as much as possible. someday i will write a fic where i explore his mommy issues.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and the thing – the Dean – blinked. Focused on Castiel. Its lips parted in a small oh.

“How may I please you?” the voice was… The voice was just right, as well, and how could it be otherwise, coming from that throat? How could it be anything but perfect?

“You–” Castiel forced himself to look away, and stared at Crowley instead. He found himself without human language. His Grace (God’s Grace) sang, and he was suddenly, disgustingly grateful that none of his brothers knew where he was. He didn’t know what it was he was feeling in that moment, but he felt a pang of terror that whatever it was might show in the wavelengths of his wings or the rotation of his polytopes.

i thought a lot about angel trueforms and how to do them in this fic. i essentially settled on like. not describing except for like. some random details that clearly don't gel, in order to convey alienness. i also leaned on some like. themes. cas is more geometric than most angels. he has polytopes and 5-manifolds. overall it's important to me that angels are creatures that like. exist as almost mathematical constructs? they interact very directly with the laws of physics.

“You’re right, by the way. He’s absolutely exquisite.” Crowley added, and Castiel snapped back to himself.

Crowley had made this thing. Crowley had made this thing, all the while salivating over Dean’s– over some imitation of Dean’s body. Appreciating it for sexual pleasure. Possibly even making use of it in some manner. Castiel felt the throat of his vessel constrict somehow.

“How dare you. How dare you– you– you–” Castiel lost his words again, but he knew that he felt rage. He didn’t need language. He brought up his hand and snapped the fingers, sending a pulse of Grace into that beautiful, empty body.

again we have cas enacting violence when confronted with his own desires but this time, it's much more obviously erotic. cas is sending his grace into dean's empty body, resulting in a wet explosion. this was absolutely an erotic act or rather a re-channelling of erotic desire.

The sound of the explosion was… wet.

Crowley blinked at him, soaked from head to toe in gore, just like the rest of the lab, and Castiel’s own vessel. Castiel cleaned himself of the remains of the thing he had disintegrated and flew away, leaving Crowley to clean things up.

“Rahab, Bariel, Lahabiel, Nelchael, Soqedhozi, Armisael, Zachriel, Oriel,” Rachel said.

Lisa Braeden’s sofa was wide, and Castiel was grateful for that. It meant that while she and Dean sat, his arm slung over her shoulders, Castiel could perch on the arm without fear of accidental contact that might weaken the glamor that hid his vessel.

The child was in bed. The television discussed some sort of upcoming human societal upheaval Castiel believed was called an election. Red bars with different statistics filled the screen.

haha i love to make jokes

“Why are we watching this, baby?” Dean murmured. “You know I don’t care about politics.” Castiel saw him running a hand up her thigh. She wore a skirt, pale gray and pleated. Dean’s hand dipped under the hem of it, and she giggled.

or not. obviously this is like. dean is saying this because like. he also wouldn't care about cas' angel war. which is why cas isn't involving him. cas is like. so alone he really can't trust or be honest with anyone but crowley and he hates crowley. and this line exists to make him feel even lonelier because it reinforces that dean wouldn't care.

“Turn it off, then, if you want.” Castiel could see her wriggling, repositioning her hips. Dean leant forward to kiss her. With the hand that had been on her thigh, Dean blindly poked at the coffee table until his hand found a black bar covered in colorful buttons. He pressed one with his thumb, and Castiel felt a signal zip through the air, jolting his celestial form where it brushed against the edges of this plane. His vessel stiffened. The screen went black.

this is one of the reasons it's important that angels are like. mathematical constructs of physical laws. like to be clear cas parsed that - dean accidentally sending a sensory stimulus to his trueform because cas is made of light and physics and so are the infrared signals that come out of a tv remove - as a kind of erotic touch. dean has accidentally touched cas in a way he should not, as a human, be able to. it's intimate and jarring and arousing.

The two humans turned inward, making their lovers’ motions, locked at the lips. Castiel found himself mostly watching Dean's back. Dean returned his hand to Lisa’s skirt, pressing under it and tugging. Lisa writhed as though she were attempting to escape from some bond.

A moment later all was clarified as a pair of dark cotton briefs slid down her legs, and Dean assisted her in kicking them off. Castiel was curious. He had rarely had the opportunity to stay and watch so long, and this was a new activity.

to be clear: this is sexual violence, on cas' part. against both dean and lisa. he's watching them have sex without their knowledge, on purpose. he's not that naive. but he's miserable, and he Wants, so he takes.

Dean began making a new motion, a pumping and rolling of his elbow and, from what Castiel could tell, unable to see under Lisa's skirt, of his wrist. Lisa stiffened, her eyes closing and mouth opening. She gasped as though in pain. Or– oh .

Dean was using his hand to simulate the act of breeding. He was putting long, slender yet work-roughened fingers – two? three? – into her vagina and stroking her from the inside, putting the deftness of hands used to field stripping rifles to a new purpose. Surely Dean’s callouses deepened the sensation, and Castiel could understand easily why Lisa might desire this particular act.

cas fantasizing about having dean's fingers in his celestial pussy <3

She spoke, but Castiel did not hear it, too focused on the flex of Dean’s bicep, on Dean's other hand cupping Lisa's face (it must feel so warm), on the curve of Dean’s back as he followed through on the motion of his arm over and over.

But suddenly Dean was drawing back, tugging at his shirt, revealing acres of golden, sweat-shiny flesh. There was the sound of a zipper, and Castiel could not see, but he understood what it must mean.

Castiel watched as Lisa spat in her hand, reaching between Dean's legs. He could hear Dean's heart rate increase, the slick sounds as Lisa pleasured him. Dean's hips shifted, and his jeans fell slightly, revealing just the tops of sculpted buttocks.

Then: a crinkling. Dean was reaching into his pocket, arm at an odd angle. The maneuver shoved his jeans down further, revealing more perfect flesh.

It wasn't until Dean retrieved the square packet that Castiel understood. Of course. A rubber sheath. That favored human method of thwarting God’s will. Castiel wondered why it was necessary: what human female would not wish to be sown with Dean's seed? Was he not the ideal mate, strong and beautiful in body, quick and cutting in mind, generous and loving in spirit, a God among men? Castiel felt the lips of his vessel part slightly.

Perhaps Dean had denied her. That must be it.

so i had already written this part when @pregstiel published in the darkness (of this gas'n'sip) which has a really similar moment and i immediately messaged her like oh my god mind. anyway castiel mpreg moments.

The pair shifted, reorganizing themselves until Lisa’s legs were thrown about Dean’s waist as he held himself over her, one hand on the back of the couch for support and the other clutching Lisa to him as he thrusted.

And Dean was thrusting now, the muscles of his back rippling under his skin, his jeans resting halfway down his thighs, exposing his ass and the top of his thighs, also tensing and flexing with the strain. Soft, wet slaps came from between the two bodies. Lisa’s hand snaked under Dean’s armpit and squeezed his jutting shoulder blade.

Lisa wrenched herself up, pressing her body closer to Dean’s, and now Castiel could just see her face over Dean’s shoulder. He watched as her mouth stretched into a cry, and then another. With each sound, Dean seemed to move faster, as though egged on. These vocalizations held some power over him.

Castiel found himself imitating the rounding of Lisa’s lips.

He sent a tendril of Grace down her throat, examining her mouth, her larynx, her lungs with his celestial senses. The way her vocal folds vibrated during each moan, the pressure of her breath, the shape her tongue took. He contorted his vessel’s own vocal folds, attempting to use his Grace to reshape them to the right tension to achieve a similar frequency, and, just experimentally, raised his voice alongside hers.

this is my favorite he like touches and fondles her body with a kind of erotic fascination without her knowledge. again like this scene is sexual violence. not because he wants her but because he is jealously obsessed with her. also this paragraph lead to like a multi-hour argument/hash out with @restlesshush who is a linguistics major because i wasn't doing the anatomy right at first which i fixed but THEN i wrote some stuff that was like correct but insufficiently clear? like using both vocal folds and vocal cords even though they're the same thing out of synonym avoidance. anyway to be clear here cas is quite literally (temporarily) changing the physical nature of his vessel to be more like lisa. he is single white femaling that woman rn.

She could not hear him, of course. Nor could Dean. But still their cries were in chorus as Dean fucked her.

“You know, it’s an absolute joy to watch you work,” Crowley said. His hot breath ghosted over Castiel’s vessel’s ear. “All in control like that. You’re nearly… Godlike. ”

crowley doing his best to get cas to get over himself. like part of the reason crowley is doing this is because he recognizes, reasonably, that cas' hangups (various) will be a problem. and part of the reason is that torturing cas is fun. and part of the reason is that is makes him feel, like i said, like a mentor and corrupter. and he likes that. it makes him feel more powerful. and he needs that because he's working alongside a volatile creature who could crush him like a bug lol.

Castiel paid it no mind. It did not matter. All that mattered was information. All that mattered was a gate to Purgatory. All that mattered was an end to the war, once and for all.

If only Rachel could see him now.

“Answer the question,” he told the siren as it trembled.

“I told you, I don’t know.” Its dry voice was interrupted by a string of wet, hacking coughs. “I’d never even heard of Purgatory before you started,” it stopped to hack again, “asking about it.”

Castiel thrust his vessel’s hand into the glistening wound in the siren’s belly, sinking in up to the wrist. This was something he could do. Something he could affect. Sirens had little in terms of internal structure, but they did experience sensation, and Castiel took full advantage. He spread his fingers in the stringy moistness as the siren screamed. Wetness dripped out around him, soaking the sleeve of his coat. He shoved his hand in further, nearly to the elbow, twisting his wrist, and gray ichor began to pour from the siren’s nose and mouth. It shuddered, convulsing around him.

FIST! THAT! WOUNDPUSSY! and thrust inside a moist body and cause it to shudder around you.

Warm fluid splashed across his face, dripping from his eyelashes and running down his cheekbones. The siren’s venom. It had spurted from the glands in the thing’s mouth. An instinctual response to save itself. Castiel spat, not wanting to risk falling prey to some effect, even knowing that as an angel the siren should hold no power over him.

cumshot. you guys know the drill. anyway cas voice i'm a good little angel boy i will not experience The Effect. no desire here! the siren cannot control me! i'm not anxious about that at all!

The siren jerked. It wasn’t a death throe, sirens had rather specific death requirements. But Castiel presumed that the creature wished it was one. He twisted his wrist again.

fist him!!!!

He felt Crowley give a pleased exhale, and withdrew his arm from the siren’s body. It barely twitched, hanging limp from its bonds.

Castiel reached out with his Grace. He needed to heal the siren’s injuries. It was too defeated now, in too much pain to care if more occurred.

But.

A mistake.

He glanced at the creature not with his celestial perception, but through his vessel’s vision.

Liquid green eyes stared back at him, set just above cut cheekbones. Plush lips spattered with blood formed the word please.

A gentle caress of Grace became a burning, cleansing flood, and he and Crowley were left staring at the ash where the siren had stood.

his grace is literally IN the siren and then he sees the sexy deansiren face and experiences an uncontrollable surge of energy. like if there is one thing that is absolutely going on in this fic it's that cas' grace is a sexual organ. that's very clear earlier with the dean doll, and it's clear with the tv remote, and it's clear when he puts his grace in lisa to explore her body. but it's also an instrument of violence because cas like still hasn't really differentiated the two, though he's working on it. he comes in the siren and it dies. at the same time, he's still also motivated by the terror of his own desire. and he's also motivated by the affection he has for dean. the siren was begging for death and it was using dean's face. that's going to get under cas' skin.

Crowley rounded on him.

“What the Hell did you do that for?”

“It had nothing left to tell us,” Castiel said, voice bland. “We’ll have to find another alpha.”

Crowley scowled.

Castiel spun, neatly dodging an attack against his easternmost obelisk and deflecting with his left 5-manifold. His attacker whipped another thickly scaled, ultraviolet lizard tail at him, but he ducked into a local pocket universe, then took advantage of the opening left by the strike.

again like it's important to me that angels are constructs of the laws of physics. they can do things like duck into pocket universes.

All of Hadraniel’s eyes focused on Castiel for a moment, and then on the blade piercing Hadraniel’s own molten core. Castiel wished he could make that final moment of life last for centuries. Millennia. He wished he could make his apologies, that he could just explain to Hadraniel why. Why it had to be this way. Tell her that life would be better, for all angels, once this civil war was over. Tell her that there would be freedom. But most of all, Castiel wished that Hadraniel had never been here at all. That this death hadn’t happened. That none of the deaths on this battlefield had happened. That there was no need to fight. If he could make them understand–

Then a wave of God’s Grace washed over him, and Hadraniel was no more.

i was kind of torn here because originally all these angels used he/him pronouns because i liked the idea that all angels use he/him pronouns. or more accurately they use a neutral pronoun that is translated to he/him because they are genderless. but i was worried that that might get confusing with rachel so i pussied out. embarrassing.

Castiel turned back to the fray, and saw Phounebiel rushing him. He met Phounebiel blade to blade, the impact sending ripple through the eleventh plane, where their swords met. But Castiel was a Seraph now, and Phounebiel still only a Malakh, as Castiel had once been. It was easy to overpower him, and Castiel forced their intersecting blades forward until Phounebiel died by his own sword.

Phounebiel had taken time to consider Castiel’s pitch, when Castiel came asking for him to join the ranks of Castiel’s rebels. He had almost agreed. But he had hesitated. He had told Castiel that the battle was unwinnable. That Raphael’s forces were too powerful.

my KINGDOM for a version of season six where there's some episodes where cas runs around convincing various of his brethren to join him like the election plot in netflix lucifer.

Now Castiel watched as his brother’s blossoms wilted, and his engines ceased to whirr.

As he focused on Phounebiel, waiting for the flare of Grace, he felt an emanation.

Castiel.

It came from Damabiath, and as Castiel reoriented himself on the eighth plane, he saw Karael’s blade fall, surely a fatal strike. He could not block or dodge, Karael was too powerful, too close, Castiel posed too awkwardly.

Castiel readied himself.

On some treacherous level, a part of him held the thought that death might be a relief. His memory could stand as a martyr, and he would no longer have to lead his brothers to freedom. No longer have to profane himself with demons and deity. No longer have to fight losing battle after losing battle while Heaven tore itself apart. No longer have to watch his brothers die. No longer have to kill them.

It seemed… peaceful.

and like that's crucial here, right? cas is at rock bottom. he really has nothing else to lose, emotionally. this is the catalyst to him like. giving up on his hangups in the next scene. he's too suicidal to care about propriety anymore

And then Damabiath was there between him and Karael, and the fatal strike came down, but it did not pierce Castiel. Damabiath’s Grace flooded over and through both of them, Castiel and Karael, and both were frozen.

But Castiel was quicker to recover from the shock, and dispatched Karael in short order, piercing straight through his transverse wing and into his center.

The battle raged on.

Crowley’s lab was empty when Castiel stormed in, slamming the doors open with a gust of wind powerful enough to knock implements off tables. Good.

like cas' primary motivation here isn't lust it's like. rage. he's lashing out. he's so angry and frustrated and miserable that he's essentially being like okay. that thing i wasn't supposed to do? i'm gonna do it. to SPITE you. although he isn't like actually spiting anyone except his own superego, you know? like his own desire is kind of secondary.

The floor was smeared with brown and dark red. Crowley rarely bothered to clean up spilled blood and viscera, reasoning that there would always be more, and besides: it would make for a more unsettling atmosphere for any prisoners. Castiel was glad of this habit now, as he flooded the room with his Grace, searching out the leftover molecules of one body in particular.

He found it. Part of it. Enough.

He knitted it together with the power of Creation. It was not difficult.

He had already remade this body once.

Some Heavens were neutral ground, hastily agreed upon during wartime because angels needed to be able to pass through them, regardless of their affiliation. These Heavens were not suitable for Castiel’s purpose. There were too few of them, and too many angels likely to pass through. The hard-won Heavens of his own side were likewise too populous, and discovery there would be far worse. Only one option left.

Castiel took himself to the center of Raphael’s territory. He was a single angel, he shouldn’t be perceived if he was careful enough. And Raphael’s domain was vast. Castiel’s army had managed to carve out a few thousand Heavens, a mouse’s bite of the celestial infinity. Raphael had the rest.

this is also cas being intentionally self-destructive. he's taking risks because he has given up caring and is just acting out against every rule of good sense he can think of, at least partly because he wants to die.

The denizen of this Heaven was alone. His wife had met her soulmate six years after he died, and was spending most of her eternity on a beach in Malibu with him. Only one memory of this man had made it into her rotation, an evening drinking cocoa during a small blizzard in Maine. But this man’s core memory was baking cookies with her in the middle of the night, while they laughed and the television blared in the background, comforting and incomprehensible.

Castiel had chosen this Heaven primarily because it was stable. Most humans cycled through their memories frenetically, but this man fixated. A twenty minute loop of the same night in 1974. Better yet, the memory took place in the kitchen, but the noise of the television was a crucial element, so it contained a totally empty living room.

and you chose it because you're a sad lonely jealous boy. clown.

Castiel wished the man had thought to buy a slightly longer couch. No matter. It would do.

Heaven rejected the bodything. It was flesh. Not vessel. Not souled being. Just molecules and electrical signals and a little bit of earthly mysticism to imitate the forms of life. Reality rippled, and for a moment Castiel feared there would be some convulsion. A tear. An expulsion. Heaven would rend asunder and all of Raphael’s followers would converge on the disturbance, and he would die humiliated.

Instead, Castiel felt a pulsing tug on his Grace.

Of course.

His essence threaded through the copy now, just as it did the original. Enough of it that the empty thing was not quite empty. Indeed, it felt far more like it should, because now it carried the marks of Castiel’s remaking. Of his Creation.

again. cas' grace as sexual organ. not just because it's in dean but because he creates with it. it's reproductive.

Well, not all the marks. Castiel stepped closer.

“How may I please you?” said the thing. It did not flinch back. Did not cover its nakedness as the real one would.

Castiel felt God’s Grace (his self) (His self) flow through his vessel and encouraged it to congregate and coagulate, let it pool, let it gather in the palm of his vessel’s right hand until the flesh began to glow, not with Grace, but with plain, molten heat.

....and that sexual organ comes from god. put a pin in this.

The body did not move as Castiel brought that hand close. But when he pressed flesh to flesh, there was a piercing, satisfying scream.

in his anger and frustration he is enjoying torturing this deanbody. it's a punching bag for him to lash out against in his misery, and it's also a symbol of the desire he is so afraid of and he is so disgusted with himself for harboring. enacting violence against it punishes himself for engaging in this disgusting act, and it also protects him from the terror of desire.

In the aftermath, the thing shied away from him for a moment, but it lacked the mind to remain afraid for long. Instead, it traced a finger over the puffy, raised pink brand on the flesh of its shoulder. Castiel’s final mark. His signature. His seal.

Castiel moved– was– forward. His vessel did not move, rather, Heaven shrank around him, until he and the body were chest to chest. Not yet touching, but so achingly close.

Castiel inflated his vessel's lungs.

It only took a slight push for the thing to collapse backward onto the sofa. It was soft and pliant, built to be shaped to his will.

He found himself wishing for a little resistance. Perhaps a sarcastic jab. Some kind of mockery. Something of the human this homunculus imitated. But the mindless thing only watched him with parted lips, ready to receive revelation however he wished to give it.

i don't know if people caught this but what cas is wishing here is for the dean doll to object, to not consent. and like part of that is motivated by cas' issues. he thinks that what he wants from dean is just too disgusting, too awful, and that dean could never desire him or care about him that way because poor castiel so alone in the world no one care him no one understand him. like it is absolutely a reflection of his loneliness and self-disgust. but he is also absolutely wishing that this felt more like a rape. and it's not really hurting anyone, the doll is just a doll, but it's indicative of something very unpleasant about his state of mind, and like. where he's at. one of the main theses of this fic is very much like... repression and self-hatred can lead a person to do awful things.

The nose of Castiel’s vessel wrinkled.

The doll’s legs bent easily as Castiel pressed it into the couch, folding it just so. He knew he needed access to its genitalia for this. It was supple and flexible, he could press its legs up and to the sides such that its body was nearly folded in half and its thighs formed an inviting gateway.

Castiel’s vessel was also a male, but no matter. He knew humans had an auxiliary entrance, shared between the sexes. He would use that.

yes babygirl dehumanize it as much as possible. be so disgusted by your own desires that engaging in them feels like doing violence to your partner, so much so that you have to dehumanize them.

The body’s penis was soft. That wasn’t usually the way of things, but Castiel was not sure it mattered. He had no plans to make use of it.

Castiel glared down at the doll. It was so much flesh, laid out before him, open and wanting. He ran the tips of his vessel’s fingers down its chest, and it shivered a little. Its lips parted, and Castiel…

In order to– to mount the thing, he would need to be on top of it. He positioned himself with one hand above its left shoulder, and his knees between its thighs.

He knew he needed to free his vessel’s penis. On Earth, he would have to deal with the complex fastenings of his human garments, but here they were only a half-formed image, a thought shared between Heaven and Castiel. They were gone.

For a moment, all he could think of was this scene through other eyes. The hero Castiel debasing himself in animal filth. Not even fornicating with a human, but something far lesser, and far more damning: he was proving that even in their absence he was prey to their carnal impulses. That he wanted what no angel should want. He could see it now: not just Raphael’s army, but his own, converging on this place to tear him to shreds. All his brethren, finally united, in the quest to destroy him. And if they knew what he had been doing with Crowley, what he and the demon were planning…

Castiel folded in on himself, a half-fear, half-guilt cringe spanning dozens of dimensions. His brothers’ disgust would be well-deserved, for far greater reasons than those. He could still feel himself dirtied with the Grace of the angels he’d slaughtered since he’d started this war. Or even beyond that: since Dean had spun his vessel in Zachariah’s waiting room, and his whole world was torn asunder. Hadraniel, Phounebiel, Karael, Peniel, Sabrael, Rikbiel… he was forgetting some of their names. Just the ones he had struck down with his own blade. But it went beyond them. His own men: Nelchael, Sophia, Armisael, Zachriel, Oriel, Kokabiel, Uziel, Netzach, Bariel, Lahabiel, Nuriel, Cambiel, Soqedhozi, Theliel, Verchiel, and dozens of others. All dead. He did not know the extent of the casualties on Raphael’s side, but he had seen the decimated ranks. He had seen Anapiel giving orders to the nineteenth flight, a sure sign that Elyon was dead. Even whole garrisons: he had not seen Charm mobilized for nearly three months, and flights he knew had been Charm’s were now serving in Strange, Up, or Beauty. And of course, he had seen Raphael’s soldiers slain at the hands of his own forces, brother against brother: Machidiel, Galizur, Kutiel, Zadkeil, Cahethal. More. More and more, until the planes of Heaven echoed empty. All pointless, because angel against angel was not the grounds on which Heaven would be won. All of it on Castiel because he alone understood what needed to be done, compromises that had to be made, the blasphemy that he had to become. All leading Heaven to ruin because he could not find Purgatory, take control, and end this war.

this is really the point of this fic. this paragraph. also as soon as i wrote this fic i sent it to @fluorescentbrains (physics grad student) to be like you see this??? you see my physics reference??? specifically in this paragraph. (to be clear: charm, strange, up, and beauty are all names of quarks. the implication here is that there are garrisons named after all the quarks, cas just hasn't mentioned them all. beauty is a little outdated as a quark name, truth and beauty are now called top and bottom, but i like the old ones better. so).

Castiel found himself sinking desperately into the warmth of the body beneath him, pressing himself against it, skin to skin. His vessel shook, and he felt himself fall, the heat and movement of not quite human flesh supporting the crushing weight of his entire self .

and now that cas has had his breakdown and anger has given way to misery, now it cas be about comfort, rather than violence.

He brushed lips to open lips. Not because he had planned it, but because it was his vessel’s instinct, and his angelic nature was occupied with collapsing in on itself.

Famine had touched him once, and the ecstasy of tearing into raw cow-flesh, laid out on the floor in worship of it, was all he could think of as he licked into the mouth before him. He took and consumed, desperate to suck passion from the mindless thing’s lips.

His cock had swelled while he was distracted, and he needed this doll now. He rubbed against its sweat slick skin, and it curled up into him as though desperate for his touch.

He pushed it down.

The simulated breeding. He needed to put his fingers in it. He needed to sit before it and flick his wrist and– He momentarily considered giving it a skirt, before deciding that was unnecessary to the measure. He shifted backward, and found himself having to perch on the arm of the couch.

Frustration flared.

Castiel reached a tendril of Grace into the mind of the man of this Heaven, and told him a little white lie. Just that the olive green couch he’d bought secondhand with his wife in 1968 had been two feet longer.

this is maybe the worst thing cas does in this whole fic. he permanently alters the memories of a dead man who must live the rest of his existence trapped in this one memory. like it's all he has. and cas perverts it, selfishly.

Castiel settled into his spot.

The emptything's penis was growing erect now, and he took it in hand to keep it out of his way. Fluid beaded at the tip. Castiel felt the muscles of his abdomen flex as he licked his lips.

Castiel knew copulation between human males should require lubrication of some kind, and he ordered reality to become slick and wet around his hand. He pressed a finger to the doll’s entrance. Muscles opened easily for him, flesh stretching like putty in a way that would indicate possible medical issues in a real human, but Castiel supposed it was sometimes reasonable to prioritize function over realism. He pushed two fingers into it, curling and stroking them against velvety inner walls. He felt more than heard the doll sigh, a low, shuddery sound.

Its legs jerked, and it curled up towards him again, but this time he nearly doubled over with the new need in his belly.

He reoriented himself, above the thing once again, and brushed the head of his dick to its hole. The softness called him. He would not put a barrier of rubber between them. The muscles of its thighs rippled as they came up to cage his own.

come fetish mpreg boy strikes again <3

He let his vessel guide him, let instinct tell him to press in and sheathe himself in the body he craved.

The world tilted on its axis, rearranged itself. Castiel until this moment has no idea that human nerve signals could be this intoxicating. Millennia of miracles superseded by his stolen cock embedded in hot, slick flesh.

He found himself grasping at whatever he could reach, his not-of-this-vessel strength leaving instant purple bruises on the body beneath him until his right hand found the puffy pink scar on its shoulder.

He fucked it without ceremony, hard and selfishly. And despite that he could hear its moans filling the space around them, feel its dick hard between them rubbing slickly against his sweat-soaked stomach. Skin slid against skin over the whole length of their joined forms, every place they touched.

he wants that doll to hate him like (he feels) everyone else does/should sooooo bad. and it won't. it refuses to hate him because it's a thing and this drives him crazy

His need was too great, and his world narrowed. His vessel persisted, but his self, his Grace, God’s Grace pooled, gathering in his penis and the palm of his right hand. Just enough left in his vessel to animate the relevant muscles and keep him thrusting, and he felt his head loll, useless and lifeless. The muscles of his legs, arms, hips snapped graceless and Graceless and awkward with the sole goal of keeping him enrobed in pleasure.

pretty sure enrobed is a word they only use in chocolate bar marketing.

“Dean.” Hearing himself say it, his own voice wrecked and desperate, he shuddered. He pressed close. “Dean.”

Cas.

He could almost hear it, in among the wordless moans.

Cas, Dean cried, hungry for him. Desperate for him. Cas, I want you. Cas, I’ve missed you so much. I’ve always wanted you. Cas, Cas, Cas, God, Cas, Cas. Cas, please.

this is like. to me. the saddest moment in this fic. cas finally lets himself imagine what he wants to here. while he's fucking a sex doll that can never give it to him.

Cas leaned down and cut off Dean’s cries with a kiss, slowing his thrusts so they could savor this moment, this ultimate joining and togetherness. He took a moment to savor the softness of Dean’s body, welcoming him in every cell. Made for him. Suffused with his Grace.

Cas slid his left hand up Dean’s chest, pinching a nipple on the way, and finally cupping the back of his neck, cradling Dean’s head in his fingers. He kissed him again, rubbed their noses together, brushed his lips to each of his cheeks. He clutched Dean to him, and Dean clutched him back, wrapping his legs tight around Cas’ waist, urging him onward with purpose.

Cas took with abandon. He took from Dean. Took with Dean. He felt Dean shake beneath him, body rippling with the power of his orgasm. Dean’s body worshiped him, craved him, loved him, tightened around him.

God, Cas.

there we are. here's cas fantasizing about being god. just a little. because then he can have whatever he wants. i've talked all the time about meet the new boss as a deeply erotic experience for cas. he's gotten past his hangups about sex with dean, or at least, fantasizing about sex with dean. he's now losing his hangups about the blasphemy of being god. and the thing about being god is, he can have whatever he wants. and like, becoming god is very much at least partly erotic for reasons of wanting to be dean's god as well, obviously.

Cas felt himself teeter, tip, and finally fall.

Whiteout. Castiel melting down. Pleasure. Reality wavering. Castiel destroyed. Heaven flickering. The world turning. Castiel reforged.

Remade in God’s image.

he's lost his previous identity. like that's what i was saying earlier about cas being suicidal and at rock bottom. destroying his hangups and repression feels like destroying himself, it's a kind of ego death. which he has just experienced at the moment of orgasm here.

Cas collapsed upon the broad chest beneath him. He closed his eyes, nestling into hard pectorals, caring nothing for the quickly-growing-tacky sweat soaking everything or sticky stripes of semen painted under him.

He felt a hand card gently through his hair and sighed. He could stay here forever. Would stay here forever if it weren’t for the fact that that outburst of energy must have been felt by every angel in the Firmament. Surely they were all converging on his location, on this little Heaven he had found, his own slice of paradise. But the hand stroked his face, cupped his cheek, and he could not bear the thought of leaving this moment.

“Dea–”

but he can't quite stand the vulnerability, still. he catches himself imagining it was dean and he can't let himself do that.

Castiel snapped to attention. He stared down at the bodything, the emptything, the not-dean-thing that he had made use of. It blinked back up at him, guileless. Seemingly unaware of its debauched state, the fluids covering its belly and the bruises dotting its chest.

“How may I please you?”

God’s Grace boiled over inside Castiel, hot and cleansing. He felt its flow, flowed with it, became it, until the body beneath him was filled.

Castiel did not flinch when it exploded.

For a moment, he stood, envesseled, soaked in blood and entrails and his own semen that he’d injected into the shameful doll.

the anger returns. the shame returns. also, the equivocation between the explosion and ejaculation finally becomes totally explicit.

Then he shook himself. Ordered the truth to make his vessel clean, and clothed, and presentable to another angel’s eyes. Soon his brethren would find this place. It was best he not be present when they did.

Besides, he had a war to lose. He had a God to become.

so this little rock bottom experience has given cas a lot of things. he's refreshed and he has taken a moment of pleasure for himself, but also he's just like... gotten over himself. he's gotten past some hangups. including the one about blasphemy. he is newly re-committed. honestly when i wrote this fic i thought the sex scene at the end was the weakest link because it's like way less erotic than like, the siren gore, or the lisa and dean scene. but like. i've really come around on it.

#spn #asks #glitter-dyke-rights #rape tw #gore cw

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seelestia · 2 years

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HI LIAAA <3

I'm doing good actually! Thanks to you beating tf out of my sore throat- I've actually recovered pretty well by now! :D

Just some mild coughing left, but it's only really triggered when I laugh at something too hard lmao

My roomies are really evoking a lot of familiarity, we've all been friends and classmates for 5+ years so they give me a sense of family so maybe that's why it's less stressful :''D #foundfamily

ALSO! Thank you for answering! and don't worry about late answers/repliess, everyone's busy living their lives irl (i can wait dont worry)

Ngl the only thing i know about alhaitham is that he's got an intimidating face, he's buffer than itto (which is blasphemous), and that he looks like a silver+green version of zhongli lol

Speaking of cyno tho, all i can say is.....I really am a simp for the shorties

oh god chapter 3, oh noooo :''"D

I've actually written like 1.2k words on chapter 3 already but I haven't even gotten past the actual center of the chapter yet :'''D

Here's a snippet of the first few paragraphs just for you lmao:

"Video Game characters seem to be in the same vein as this. The only difference is that the player can actually visually see the characters supposed beauty. The genre has surely made fictional characters easier to visualize as they have already rendered and presented the character through a 3D or 2D model withing the game itself.

And as much as the 3D game models of Genshin Impact were a hit or miss on some of its most prolific characters and its npc’s, what the Reader was looking at right now was nothing if not the epitome of beauty.

Light golden streaks of hair flowing ever so slightly because of the wind. Equally golden eyes with such a warm tone to it that it almost resembles honey.

Slightly tan but looking effortlessly soft skin, light scars littering near his cheeks and forehead but all the more adding to the humbly divine aura surrounding him.

The Reader contemplated whether or not they were hallucinating because of the lack of food and hydration, but they swear they could see light sparkles those black and white mangas use for dramatic effect when introducing a new character.

Aether truly was the protagonist of this world."

That's like the first page of the word document fr, just 90% simping and 10% actual story

Summary of the chapter so far: The author (me) is a simp, as well as the Reader (even tho Reader's in a tough situation rn, they can't hold back the simping)

I'm stuck on how I'm gonna structure the conversation with Aether and the Reader, I already have the end of the chapter planned out but I'm pretty busy considering we have online classes this week :''D (pls be patient, I'll try to post it this thursday or friday fr)

ALSO ALSO, that tiktok you linked in the first ask- that was literally the tiktok i saw that made me ask about how you fet about the sumeru characters interacting with aether :0

Our brain cells just synced up fr 🤯 (pls do send more tiktoks to watch, im very interested lmaoooo)

YES I"VE WATCHED THE TRAILER, I CAN'T WAIT FOR SCARA CONTENTT AAAAAA

my baby's finally getting the attention he deserves TvT

Honestly, it's been great reading ur answers my dear authorr, How are you tho? How's the week been treating you? It's not fair for u to ask me how I am and not me ask the same question >:p /lh

Last question tho- do you think their gonna give scara a redemption arc? For me- I just want him to stay evil fr but if they do the redemption arc really good then the characterization would still be good probably (hopefully lmao)

And with that long ass ramble, I bid you the finest of adieus Lia - ever so sincerely yours, 👹✨ jae <3

hi, jaeeeee! >:D

hehe, i'm glad you're feeling better~ but your body fr said "don't push your luck" when you wanna laugh hard 😭 but i know you'll fully recover soon enough! >:)

found family is already so sweet in fiction but to see it irl is even sweeter :( <3 tell your roomies that your online friend here is giving each of them a headpat through the screen, nyehehe (/lh)

( spoilers about alhaitham and sumeru's first archon quest !! )

aaaa, tysm for understanding! my schedule has been clearing up recently tho, so i got time to answer this per my usual time~ and you're not wrong, alhaitham does look like a silver-green ver of zhongli's model 😭

he is a character with undetermined motives rn because he collaborated with the traveler to achieve a capsule that contained the knowledge about the gods. but at the end of the quest, alhaitham fooled the traveler into thinking that they all lost the capsule while he slipped it into his pocket right under our nose. iirc, afterwards, he said smth to himself about the capsule and the higher-ups, most likely referring to the people from the akademiya (who are vv corrupt btw) — but the thing is alhaitham isn't your average obedient underling, so where his loyalties themselves lie rn is a question shrouded in mystery. with such a powerful capsulecin his hands, will he betray the akademiya or will he not? HMM, MY EYES ARE ON HIM. (also, the way you brought up itto's muscles, helpppp?? 😭 fr tho, hoyoverse what did you do to our oni's arms <//3)

AETHER BEST BOY !! difficulties writing a convo between aether and the reader, you say??? i think it's time for your personal hc's about aether to shine! this is your story, after all~ i personally think his dynamic with the reader would be interesting tho! since he's not originally from teyvat, so perhaps, the reader can relate to him??? the "we wanna go home but we're stuck in this place" gang 🤝 (/j)

NAH, DID OUR TIKTOK FYP JUST SHAKE HANDS OR SMTH 😭🤝 here, have a vv groovy tiktok (diluc jackson /j) and another one about chibi aether because yes !! ;D

AND YEAH, I MAY NOT BE A SCARA SIMP BUT HIS LORE >>> i personally don't think his personality would do a 360° turn after the redemption arc! perhaps, he'd still retain that sarcasm of his but in a more harmless way as a playable character 👀 we'll have to wait and see~ but fr, as soon i saw scara content, i knew i gotta bring it up with you #jaescaralover

#your long ramble is super fun tho! so i'm like super hyper every time we talk 😭🫶#and my week has been alright~ i've been working on my wips and tweaking my genshin oc!#productivity should come visit me more (/j) AND OH! STILL VV EXCITED FOR CHAP 3 BTW 👀#ALSO I SAW THAT YOU POSTED CHAP 3 !! I NEED TO READ IT ASAP #ask box! 📬#visitor: dearest jae! 👹✨

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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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kyovtani · 3 years

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 – 𝐤𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮 (𝟐)

— pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou x female Reader

— genre: smut, angst, little bit of fluff to keep the balance; tattoo artist!kyoutani, inexperienced!reader, strangers to lovers!AU, SLOW BURN

— word count: 9.6k

— warnings: swearing, mentions of infidelity and violence, as well as the consumption of drugs and alcohol; smut: corruption kink, degradation and dumbification, dacryphilia, praising, spitting, (soft) dom!kyou, oral (m. receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex (dont do that kids), impreg kink, iwaoi say hi-

— (A/N: and here’s part two! thank you SO much for all the love you sent my way after i published the first part. ngl i was a little nervous bc i thought it was boring and not interesting at all but you guys easily pushed me out of that hole so thank you for everything. i love and appreciate you with my whole heart. all the love, zade xx)

[ part one ]

— summary: after fucking up, you make it your mission to get him back..(im so bad at this pls just- okay.)

"He's not picking up, Hana", you say, another soft cry falling from your lips before you bury your face in your pillow.

“Once in my fucking life a guy treats me good and the way I've always wanted to be treated and I had to fuck it up. Why the fuck am I like this, Hana? Why can I not enjoy one fucking good thing in my fucking mediocre life", the profanities keep coming just like the tears and the amount of frustration and anger rushing through your veins is nowhere near normal anymore.

"Calm down, love", Hana sighs and makes you sit up so she can look into your tear stained face as she tries her best to make sure her words actually find their way to your pain clouded mind, "at this point you shouldn't worry too much because you do know Kyoutani, don't you? He does lose his temper a lot, so give him the time he needs and then you'll show up at his doorstep, suck his cock and make up with him, yeah?", she explains calmly.

"If this hurts you so much, why the fuck did you even say he's just a friend, Y/N? I really don't understand", Hana mumbles and lets out another sigh, her hands caressing yours softly, managing to calm you down a little bit.

“You're right, I should just– give him some time and things will eventually fall into place", you reply after crying a little more and with an encouraging smile your best friend nods at you before she suggests a movie marathon to which you happily agree.

At least something to distract you from all the demons inside your head.

After changing into your pj's and doing your night time routine, you plop down onto the couch next to your bestie again, her eyes focused on the phone in her hand and knowing she's probably either sexting or inviting her new boyfriend has you shrugging at her lack of attention as you start looking for a good movie to begin the night with.

However, just when you're about to read the description of some kind of french rom-com, Hana puts her phone back into her lap and starts staring at you with her pretty eyes widened in shock.

"What's wrong?", you ask and turn to look at her, reaching for her hands but before you even get the chance to touch her, Hana unlocks her phone and holds it up for you to watch someone's instagram story.

The video begins with loud music, a crowd full of young college students whose faces definitely are familiar.

Everyone in the video is dancing, making out, smoking and just chatting in a random living room and every now and then there's someone yelling in the back – a typical college party.

However, just as the video is about to end, the camera shifts to a tall male leaning against the wall, obviously standing really close to the person who's filming and it takes you a full blown thirty seconds to realize who said male is.

Kyoutani Kentarou.

You stare at the phone for another minute, your throat dry and your head empty as a thick veil of tears slowly starts blurring your sight before you finally decide to pay attention to the username.

"He can't be fucking serious", you hiss, fisting the blanket beneath you, the urge to punch something or someone becoming unbearable, "what the fuck is he doing at a random college party with – Sora?"

"Y/N, don't–", "Whose party is that?", you interrupt your best friend, not giving a single fuck about her attempts to calm you down; not anymore. Hana gulps harshly and strictly avoids your gaze as she mumbles a name and you roll your eyes, asking her to speak up with an annoyed sigh.

"It's one of Yuuji’s frat parties", and as soon as your best friend says the name of your ex-boyfriend, a cold shiver of disgust runs down your spine and you can feel yourself getting lightheaded from all the emotions rushing through your overwhelmed body.

"Don't follow me if you're going to stop me from leaving, Hana", you say and stand up before quickly disappearing inside your room.

You have no idea how you manage to get dressed, your outfit consisting of a pair of jeans and a hoodie you can't even remember buying and you don't even wanna think about what your hair and face look like when you end up leaving the house with your keys and your phone.

After driving this route for over two years on an almost daily basis, it takes you less than ten minutes to arrive in front of the huge house your ex-boyfriend lives in.

The memories start finding their way back into your head way too fast, taking away your breath and numbing your whole body because even if you didn’t love Yuuji anymore, the bitter feeling of betrayal still manages to hit you in just the right way.

It takes you a lot of willpower to actually approach the house and eventually get in. And after being in between the crowds of drunk, stinky college students, you remember why you hate college parties so much.

"I – Wow”, a familiar voice manages to break through the loud music, your instant reaction just an annoyed eye roll, “you were the last person I expected to see at one of our frat parties", Yuuji says and comes to stand in front of you.

His blonde hair messily falling into his handsome face and from the way his whole face seems to be covered in the deepest shade of red – including his eyes – you know that he's probably higher than the stars and you can't help but sigh.

"I'm not here to party, Yuuji", you hiss, feeling the anger crawl up your spine again the longer you look at your ex, "my boyfriend is here and I have to talk to him."

"So you and that tattooed guy are actually a thing? Didn't think so since he, you know – showed up with another girl", Terushima mumbles and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket, a mischievous smile on his lips.

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Yuuji", you spit back and roll your eyes, taking in the way the pretty boy arches his brows up in pure shock at your rather new attitude, "go and get high or whatever you do to feel proud of yourself", are the last words you say to him before you walk away, your heart thrumming inside your throat.

Your eyes roam the huge crowd, desperately searching for the only face you wanna look at right now and you try to remember where they were standing in the video Sora had posted only to realize that you can't remember.

After all you only watched the video once, your whole attention laying on Kyoutani. And after almost fifteen minutes, you find yourself slowly giving up.

Maybe this was just not meant to happen or maybe Kyoutani has left already.

He probably left with Sora- something you can’t and won’t ever blame him for.

After all she's literally one of the prettiest and hottest girls you have ever seen – anyone who rejects her would be out of their mind (or not attracted to girls which isn't the case when it comes to Kyoutani).

You give it another ten minutes of desperately looking around before you let out a deep sigh which gets lost in the loudness and thick air of the party before you finally start making your way back to the front door.

You quickly walk back to your car, trying your best to ignore everyone around you, especially all the drunk guys who are currently about to get into a verbal fight over something totally random and the last thing you want to experience those threats becoming reality.

At some point you're scared they might even include you which is probably why you end up literally sprinting and even though you always park so far away from frat houses just because you've heard way too many stories of people getting their cars stolen during parties, but right now you just wished you would have listened to your gut feeling and parked in front of the fraternity like every normal person.

However, to your life long luck, you spot a tall figure standing a little too close to your vehicle just as you’re about to unlock it. You slow down your movements almost instantly upon seeing the stranger, yet your eyes still try to figure out if it's someone you know despite the darkness surrounding the two of you.

He has probably spotted you by now, after all you're still panting like crazy from speed walking down to where your car is and it takes you a full minute to realize how loud you're actually being.

"Y/N", the male suddenly says, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and even though it could have been everyone, it sounds a tad bit too familiar to your ears which is probably why you end up approaching him slowly.

"It's me, Kyoutani", he adds and at the same moment the words leave his lips, you finally recognize his pretty features which seem extra beautiful underneath the bright moonlight.

And then realization hits you.

"How did you know–", "Hana called me and asked if I could make sure you got home even if I didn't want to talk to you. So, here I am. Get in the car so I can tell her I did my part of the job", he interrupts you quickly, obviously not having the intention to interact with you and the way his usually so tender-filled eyes and calming voice are nothing but ice-cold has a thick veil of tears blurring your sight.

Never ever did you think about the moment, where Kyoutani puts the cold mask on he loved to hide behind when he had first looked at you all those weeks ago.

And the longer he avoids your gaze, the heavier the burden on your chest becomes.

"I'm sorry, Tani", you whisper, your voice breaking at the end, easily giving away how much his cold demeanor has gotten to you.

“Of course you're not just a friend to me and I d-don't know why I introduced you like that, everything happened so quickly and I – panicked. It's not an excuse and does not justify my behavior but I just wanted you to know that you've always been more than just a friend to me", you continue, managing to keep talking upon realizing that Kyoutani won't interrupt you and the way he even listens to you with his eyes looking everywhere but yours is absolutely enough for you.

"What am I to you then, Y/N? Am I the guy you're casually fucking? Your booty call? Am I your second choice? Like what the fuck do you expect me to say? I know we never put a label to – this", he starts pointing at you and then himself, "but you knew I was serious about it, about you. So, I just don't understand why you would even think about considering me a friend. I told you that I am not one for that friends with benefits kinda shit and you agreed yet you did this and now I can't help but be convinced you just used me to get that Yuuji fucker.”

Kyoutani is angry and he doesn't even try to hide it as he spits out those words, the ones he’s probably been dying to say out loud for the past few days and you know he has every right to actually be mad at you, his words still hit you in a way you didn't expect them to.

"I'd never do that to you, Kentarou; I'd never use you like that, please believe me", you say quickly, a little surprised you're even able to form proper sentences.

“You m-mean so much to me and I just don't know how to put it into words. My heart hurt so much when I watched you type your number into Sora's phone but the demons in my head, they just kept talking over my heart and – I'm just really sorry, Kyou, I really am", you sigh and after realizing that he's not going to look at you, you finally manage to shift your gaze away from his pretty face.

"Go home, Y/N. It's been a long day for both of us and I think some more distance will help me get my mind straight", Kyoutani replies after a long, torturous beat of silence lingering in the cold air and even if it wasn’t the reply you had hoped to hear, you're glad he's at least not completely ending it.

"Okay b-but at least let me drive you home?", you ask softly, wiping away the few tears which had managed to escape and when you look up at the beautiful faced male in front of you, his eyes meet you for the first time since what feels like forever and you feel yourself melting away.

"I don't think that's a good idea, pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, the soft pet name sending your mind into the sweetest haze of comfort just like that, "it's only been a few days but I am craving your touch and I just know I'm going to lose it and fuck you against the next best surface if we get into that car together, so I have to decline this offer", he adds and takes another step back, his lips stretching into a tiny smile and you can’t deny how much his words have you gotten you worked up, but you have no choice but to nod.

"Have a good night, baby", Kyoutani sighs and deep down you're hoping for a kiss, after all it's been way too long since you got to feel close to him but instead, he just lifts his hand up and starts waving at you and just as he is about to turn around, you find yourself reaching for his wrist. The fear and despair inside of you making you a little too brave for your personal liking but you know you can't just let him walk away like that.

"Please, Tani- Kyoutani", you whisper and let out a soft sigh of relief when he turns around to face you again, "I won't try anything, I just want to spend a little bit more time with you."

Kyoutani takes a deep breath, his dark eyes roaming your face and wandering down your body and even though it feels like he's literally devouring you alive, you enjoy his burning gazes regardless, a hidden part inside of you even craving them.

A solid minute passes by before he lets out a sigh and gives you a nod, his plump lips pressed into a thin line.

It takes you another deep breath and a couple of seconds to actually calm yourself down from the rollercoaster of emotions you've been through within the time span of an hour and as you sit there in your car, inhaling the cold air of the night, your mind starts replaying everything that went down, starting from the day you met Kyoutani, to your first and most recent kiss, as well as the encounter with Sora and your deep anger towards Yuuji.

The drive to Kyoutani's apartment passes by in a blur, way too fast for your liking and you can't help but pout when you pull up in front of the huge building, knowing very well that this will be the last interaction with the handsome tattoo artist for the upcoming few days and you can already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

He's been awfully quiet, not like you actually said anything but Kyoutani's silence was intense, boring into your soul and actually suffocating you to a point where the urge to just jump out of the car became overwhelming.

You know he's probably going through everything just like you, yet the feeling that his thoughts are more on the negative side just won't leave you alone and you hate the way your assumptions are being confirmed as soon as Kyoutani turns to look at you.

"I – love you, Y/N", he suddenly says, his voice soft and calm, yet still deep and the way it's filled with tenderness and the sweetest bit of longing makes the effect of those magical words even heavier.

Your lips part in shock, your head having a difficult time actually processing his confession and you can feel your whole body going into a standby mode.

"But you're not good for me."

You remember the way your heart broke into thousands of pieces when you found out the alleged love of your life was cheating on you without even batting an eye.

The pain was so intense and heavy, you didn't know how to deal with it and at some point you were convinced that your heart had stopped beating for a solid minute. It was bad, left you speechless and threw you into a hole of darkness you barely managed to escape from, yet still leaving you grateful for the experience.

You thought your first heartbreak would be able to prepare you for what's to come in the future, but what you went through as soon as those words had fallen past Kyoutani’s lips, can't be compared to anything you've ever felt before.

Your heart starts clenching as his words keep replaying inside of your head and your throat so is going absolutely dry from your desperate attempts to gasp for air as the feeling of being suffocated comes back.

Everything around you seems to disappear, your eyes still focused on Kyoutani's intense gaze as the feeling of emptiness starts filling up your whole body.

You easily lose track of time, your heart beat so slow and heavy and when the wave of reality crashes you yet again, an almost inaudible sob falls past your lips.

"B-But...", you can't get yourself to speak, the words getting stuck in your throat and soft cries the only thing filling the inside of your car.

And yet, there are so many things you want to tell him, so many things rushing through your mind at the highest speed, almost impossible to grasp them and actually put them into proper sentences.

"You have too much control over me. I lost myself trying to fit into the picture of a lover you need and deserve. But – I am not who I used to be anymore”, Kyoutani explains, nervously rubbing the sides of his pierced node with his thumb as he avoids looking in your direction at all costs.

“I am scared of losing what's obviously not mine. You make me feel weak and vulnerable and I just can't deal with it. You've become the center of my world, and I can't control how much it affects me. How much you affect me and – I hate it", he continued, his voice is still incredibly calm, yet a bittersweet tone of fear coating every single one of his words.

"B-But...", yet again, the whole of your vocabulary seems vanished, not one word to say as the knot in your throat tightens even further.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I thought I could do it but – I am not meant to love and you deserve to be loved in the most special way possible”, he takes another quick break, letting out a sigh of exhaustion, “and that's why I'm letting you go. Please, don't hate me. Take care and – goodbye, my love.”

Those are his last words before he presses his lips against your forehead, making your head spin like crazy because of the contrast of his heartbreaking words and his soft kiss.

Kyoutani leaves without saying another word. He doesn't even look back once as he walks away and enters the apartment building, while you can't stop staring at the door with hot tears streaming down your cheeks and loud sobs filling the suffocating air surrounding you.

There you are, yet again.

Your eyes staring into the dark night as your body tries to cope with the intensity of pain you've thought you had overcome.

The constant breaking of your heart starts numbing every part of your body and you slowly start losing yourself in this certain kind of darkness.

Seconds turn into minutes and without even realizing, a whole hour has gone by with you staring into nothing.

Your mind plays games with you as it keeps replaying his words, his behavior, his kiss and the feeling of slowly but certainly going insane as you get out of the car a little too fast.

You tumble back, the sudden coldness hitting you right in the face and the mental as well as physical exhaustion has your body trembling.

And then it hits you.

The wave of anger, wrath, frustration and hatred literally wakes you up, pulls you back into reality and ends up taking over you completely.

Your eyes find the huge apartment building Kyoutani lives in, staring at it as if you could set it on fire and you know what you're about to do is a bad idea but your body acts before your mind can even get the chance to intervene.

And that's how you find yourself almost brutality slamming your fist against Kyoutani's door, your heart hammering against your rib cage way too fast for it to be still physically healthy and ten thousand different thoughts rushing through your chaotic mind.

"What the fuck is going – Y/N", Kyoutani looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly widened in shock, his lips parting as he struggles to keep his eyes on you and a disgusting feeling of shame and embarrassment starts filling you up.

You know this is pathetic, you are aware of how stupid you look standing in front of him like this but you just can't get yourself to actually care about it.

"Y/N, please don't-", "No, I listened to what you had to say and now I'm going to talk and you're going to listen to me. Before that I am not going anywhere because I deserve this", you cut him off, hands balled into fists as you try to stay calm but the more you think about his words in the car, the angrier you get.

"I–", Kyoutani sighs, his eyes nervously roaming your face and upon noticing the way you seem to shiver from the cold and your lack of clothing, he lets his conscience get the best of him, "alright, come in then.”

You follow him inside, the familiar scent of vanilla and Kyoutani's favorite febreeze scent filling your nose and you hate the way how comfortable you are.

After all you've been spending quite some time in this apartment; visiting him after your classes so he could bury his face between your legs and then offer you some homemade food, followed by a good old ghibli movie and lots of cuddles has become some kind of routine.

Oh, how you hate him for ruining all of those memories.

"Do you want something to drink? You're probably freezing", he offers, his voice filled with concern and you know he is right and you'd definitely give everything for a cup of tea and maybe some water, you still shove all of your body’s basic needs into the very back of your head and try to regain your composure.

"I – you – we", you take a deep breath, your mind struggling to put all of those racing thoughts into some kind of order, yet failing miserably.

But there's so much you want to say to him; so many things you want him to hear and now that you are actually standing in front of him, your body betrays you.

"You're a fucking coward, Kyoutani Kentarou", is the first thing you finally manage to let out, "and I hate you for leaving me like this. I fucking hate you.”

Deep down, you hate yourself for saying those words; the choice of words and the incredible heaviness they come with are usually not your way of expressing yourself yet you're not regretting them.

You don't know how this night is going to end, maybe this will be the last time you get to see Kyoutani or he'll eventually fuck you into oblivion and you finally end up together; but nevertheless you want your words to hurt him; you want them to wake him up just like his did to you.

"How dare you confess your love to me and tell me I basically ruined your life in the same breath when you're the one who's fucking all of this – us up. Yes, I’ve made a mistake and I've been regretting my choice of words for the past four days, even came to the point where I accepted your distance and decided to let go because I know how much my words hurt you. But us ending like this? Definitely not going to happen", Kyoutani stares at you with his pretty eyes focusing you attentively, barely blinking, not moving at all; he’s just listening to you.

"I just – don't understand how you can be this oblivious."

"Oblivious? Oblivious to what?", he asks, his voice a little deeper and raspier, sending goosebumps straight dow your spine as if your body needed to remind you the effect he has on you.

"Oblivious to everything. This is what love does to people, Kentarou. Of course you're going to feel weak and vulnerable because of me - because of the one you love. After all the point of being loved and loving someone else is showing those vulnerabilities and weakness to the person you trust the most because you know, or at least you hope, they won't take advantage of it.”

You take a deep breath, your mind slowing down as you ease yourself into his calming embrace and subconsciously losing yourself in the comfort it comes with.

“I'm yours. I've been yours since the very first day and we both know this, that's why you are so scared of losing me. And that's why my words hurt you so much”, you can tell that he’s already processing your words as much as he can; his habit of scratching the back of his head giving him away easily.

"You said you've lost yourself trying to fit into this picture of someone who I deserve but – you are the one who created that picture in the first place. Just because my first boyfriend was an alleged goody two shoes doesn't mean that you have to be like that too. Fuck that", you hiss, the thought of Kyoutani changing even the slightest bit about himself sending jolts of anger through your veins, "I don't care if you dropped out of college or that you have tattoos and piercings and bleach blonde hair. None of that matters to me because it's you, your kind heart and your pure soul I fell in love with.”

And suddenly - you can feel the burden on your shoulders disappear when those certain words leave your lips and the second Kyoutani raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before he locks eyes with you again has another breath of fresh air run through your suffocated lungs.

"Yes, I'm in love with you, Kyoutani Kentarou. Believe it or not, but for me, you're perfect just like this, with all your tiny habits and every single tattoo. There's nothing I'd change about you and I'm genuinely, truly sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change for me. You're a great guy and I guess that's why I ran back here after sitting in that car, crying for an hour because I couldn't stop thinking about the way you confessed your love to me”, you feel the thick veil of tears appear before they manage to block your sight, making the pretty face in front of you turn into bourry little pixels as your emotions overwhelm you.

“And yes, you are meant to be loved; maybe not meant to be loved by me but you deserve to be loved, do you hear me?"

You go up to him, closing some of the distance between the two of you before your finger darts out and poke his strong chest, trying to ease the tension after letting go of all those thoughts, "you deserve to love and to be loved because you're a good person. And I just – wanted to thank you for letting me into your life. Meeting you, getting to know the beautiful person you are has been one of the best things that has happened to me and I will cherish these memories forever."

And with those words you take a deep breath, let out another sigh, goving away your acceptance of defeat before you lift your head and prepare yourself to say your last goodbye no matter how painful it is.

"Take care, Kyoutani Kentarou and thank you, for everything", the words fall past your lips in the form of a whisper solely because you're too scared to break if you raised your volume just slightly.

You turn around and feel the first tear find its way down your cheek before you even get to walk away.

And just as you wrap your fingers around the doorknob, the sound of rushed footsteps approaching you makes you halt your movements.

"D-Don't go", Kyoutani suddenly says, his voice breaking when he comes to stand behind you, so close you can actually feel the warmth he's radiating, "I need you...so bad", he whispers into your ear, pressing his forehead against the back of your neck and it's like everything that happened tonight becomes irrelevant.

You turn around, not expecting Kyoutani to push you against the door with his whole body, yet still embracing him as much as you can.

With a soft sob, you start inhaling his unique scent, grazing his soft skin with your fingers and letting the warmth blossom inside of your chest after feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath your palm.

"Don't leave me, please", he cries, the tears running down his flushed cheeks despite his desperate attempts of holding back, "let's do this whole love thing.”

You stand there for what feels like an eternity, just hugging each other, taking in each other's presence and calming down from everything that has happened in such a short time. You finally calm down completely, Kyoutani's soft touches and tiny kisses give you the last bit of energy you needed and for the first time in almost three months, there's not one demon in your head trying to make you overthink something.

Because this feels perfect; there's literally no other word to describe the feeling of holding Kyoutani Kentarou and being held by him.

But nevertheless, you've been on a constant adrenaline rush for the past four hours and the exhaustion has been killing you, making you grow tired a lot faster than usual.

"What about moving this to your room, hm? I'd rather fall asleep with you in your bed than against the door; especially because I know the boys are out and will be coming home soon", you say softly, lifting Kyoutani's head from the crook of your neck and looking at him.

He sighs and gives you a soft kiss, giving you a nod in response before he gets himself to let go of you; his warmth leaving with him and it's almost disgusting how you literally crave his presence.

After Kyoutani makes you drink two glasses of water to avoid the dehydration of your body, he hands you one of his thick hoodies and leaves you to get ready in his bathroom.

You come back to the sight of him sitting against the headboard of his king sized bed, his oversized shirt revealing the perfect amount of collarbones and you enjoy the sight of his pretty skin and the dark lines covering most of it as well as the way his sweats hug his strong thighs in the best way possible.

And as you watch his eyes lazily roam your body, a hot jolt of arousal finds its way through your veins and right to your cunt.

"Don't look at me like that, sweet girl", Kyoutani suddenly groans and cocks his head to the side, his tongue poking out to wet his lips before he gulps harshly; his eyes never once leaving yours.

"B-But Tani...", you reply, approaching him with tiny steps become you come to stand right next to his tall figure, feeling yourself growing needier because of the way your body is craving his touch now more than ever.

“Baby…”, he replies and gulps harshly, knowing your body better than yourself after weeks of getting to know you in a way nobody has ever before.

"Please, Tani...please, fuck me. I need to feel you inside of me. I've been waiting for so long...", you plead, your fingers coming to graze his pretty lips as memories of all the times he had turned you into a crying mess with those lips.

Kyoutani is just as affected by the change in tension as you, the slight bulge in his grey sweatpants as well as the hunger burning in his eyes giving him away.

"You're such a pretty angel girl, aren’t you?", he whispers and sits up, pulling you closer to make you stand in between his legs as he starts caressing your hot cheeks with his fingers.

“Yet you're saying all those naughty things”, Kentarou chuckles deeply, “imagine how people would react if they knew what a cockhungry little slut you actually are", upon hearing those degrading names, your cunt starts clenching around nothing and a high pitched whimper escaped your throat.

"For you...", you whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth the second Kyoutani starts placing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt a little too tightly.

"Of course, baby, you're mine after all and this sweet cunt", the sudden feeling of his palm pressing against the damped fabric of your panties has you gasping for air, "belongs to me, and me only", Kyoutani grunts, pulling the skin of your neck between his lips before he starts sucking gently as well as slowly moving his fingers against the lacey fabric between your legs.

"Yes, it's yours", you reply, after several weeks of being intimate with Kyoutani you've learned one thing and that's how much he loves hearing you say all those dirty and lewd things, "please fuck me."

"Patience, my love, patience. I am going to fuck you", Kentarou replies calmly and suddenly pushes you away, his hands disappearing from your body and when your lid flutter open because of the lack of touch, he shoots you one of his cocky smirks, "but let's not forget the whole friend situation, hm? What about you make it up to me before I fuck you like the little whore you are?"

His words have excitement rush through your blood, your head literally spinning just from the thought of finally getting to be on the giving end after weeks of him playing the selfless lover.

You nod eagerly, anticipation sparkling in your eyes as you watch him palm himself over his sweats before you get on your knees and wait for him to let go of his now fully erect cock.

However, the more seconds pass by like this, the more nervous you become because for some reason you suddenly remember that you've basically never sucked dick before.

Your head shoots up with slight panic written all over your face and of course Kyoutani notices your change in demeanor right away.

"What's wrong, angel?", he asks you and stops the movements of his hands.

"I don't know how to do it, Tani", you whisper, knowing there's no point in being shy about it, after all he happens to be the guy you've experienced your most firsts with.

"It's okay, baby, I'm going to help you”, Kyoutani replies and actually loses his composure for a second, “fuck baby, don't look at me like this when I'm literally about to fuck your throat", he hisses, throwing his head back as he grunts and his hips desperately bucking into the air.

Kyoutani takes another deep breath before he finally pushes his hand underneath the waistband of his sweats and with your eyes focused on his movements, you watch him pull out his hard length, a soft hiss falling past his plump lips when the coldness of the room grazes the slightly wet tip of his cock.

You gulp harshly, his impressive size in girth as well as length has your pussy throbbing like crazy, yet you can't help but wonder how the hell he's going to fit inside of you.

“Don't worry, baby, I know you're going to take all of my cock like the good girl you are", Kyoutani says after observing your facial expressions for some time.

"Give me your hand", he asks you softly, his voice still raspy and incredibly hoarse yet still soothing and you appreciate his attempts to calm himself down so you won't feel too nervous. With your heart slamming against your rib cage, you lift your hand up and are slightly overwhelmed at the sudden feeling of Kyoutani's warm spit pooling inside your palm. Without adding anything, he straightens himself and motions you to stroke his hard cock.

Not once do you stop looking at him as you wrap your fingers around the base of his impressive length and slowly start jerking him off.

Kyoutani cocks his head to the side, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth and his eyes constantly fluttering close.

"Start with the tip, angel- just wrap your lips around it and start sucking, but be careful with your teeth, yeah baby?", he grunts, his hips thrusting into your fist every time the pace of your strokes slows down.

You give him yet another nod before look up at him one more time and do as he says.

The feeling of his cock between your lips is – different.

It feels like it's not supposed to be there, yet the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue has you sighing softly. Your tongue darts out, giving his tip a tiny kitten lick before you go back to sucking on it eagerly.

And while you seem to enjoy it a lot, Kyoutani is going absolutely crazy. You can see the way he's tensing his body as his grip in the bed sheets tightens and the vein on his neck pops out.

"F-Fuck, baby, just like that", he praises you "now try to take more of it in a-and use your hand for the rest", Kyoutani's voice is shaky, his eyes are nervously roaming your swollen lips and the string of spit connecting them to the tip of his cock.

Without giving it another thought, you take a deep breath and take more of him, trying your best to not graze his sensitive cock with your teeth and despite your initial struggle, you still enjoy the feeling of his cock on your tongue.

You subconsciously wrap your fingers around the part of his cock which you can't fit inside your mouth and suddenly it's like your body knows exactly what to do.

Kyoutani's moans grow louder and the soft thrusts of his hips become a little less controlled. You look up at him every now and then, trying your best to keep the steady rhythm as you bop your head.

And then he suddenly thrusts his length all the way to the back of your throat, your gag reflex just about to go off when he pulls back which is the moment you take notice of the tears streaming down your cheeks.

You give him a soft smile before going back to wrapping your lips around his tip, but you don't get very far.

Kyoutani pulls you back, his grip on the back of your neck not firm enough to hurt you.

"I promise I'm going to fuck your throat properly and even cum in your mouth the next time we do this but right now I just can't stop thinking about that tight cunt of yours", he says, helping you get up and almost instantly pulling you onto his lap; his wet cock rubbing against your panty covered core as Kyoutani pulls you in for a kiss.

It's sloppy and rushed, the way his tongue grazes over yours before he pulls it between his lips and starts sucking at it. Your hips start moving against his cock, your sensitive pussy craving some kind of friction as the arousal has your head spinning like crazy.

You start moaning and whimpering into his mouth when Kyoutani’s hips start meeting your desperate movements, applying the perfect amount of pressure onto your needy clit.

You feel the knot in the pit of your stomach tightening, the clenching of your cunt becoming worse the more you hump Kyoutani's cock like a woman starved.

But nothing prepares you for the feeling of one of his large digits entering you. Your hole start clenching around his finger Kyoutani pushes another one in, both digits buried inside of your little cunt.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you, baby? I'm going to finger you nice and slow so you're ready for my cock. Now come on, my love; show me what a good whore you are and ride my fingers", Kyoutani encourages you, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin behind your ear and without missing a beat, your hips meet the skillful thrusts of his fingers.

Kyoutani continues to whisper naughty things into your ear, his other hand eventually wrapping around your throat as he makes sure you look into his eyes when you stumble over the edge.

Your high hits you hard and fast, the intensity knocking the breath out of your lungs and leaving you gasping for it; something you should be used to by now yet still can't believe is even possible.

He pushes you off of his lap softly, helps you get rid of his shirt as well as your ruined panties before he makes you lay down in the middle of his bed; eyes locking with yours when he also starts undressing.

"My pretty girl", Kyoutani sighs, his hand caressing the soft skin of your thighs, spanking you every now and then just because he's absolutely obsessed with the way your whole body tenses whenever his hand meets your skin.

“Look at me", he orders and almost instantly your head shoots up to meet his gaze, the sight of his naked body distracting you a lot more than you expected but after all this is the first time you get to see the rest of his tattoos; the ones you usually only get a tiny glimpse of depending on his outfit choice.

Kyoutani spreads your legs apart, his eyes never leaving yours even when he starts jerking off again and you can't hold back the soft whimpers and begs leaving your lips.

But also something about his flushed cheeks and swollen lips as well as his messy hair falling into his face has you incredibly turned on.

"We've never talked about this before but are you on the pill, baby?", he asks, pushing one of his thumbs into his mouth before he brings it down to your clit and starts rubbing soft circles into it, making you arch your back off of the mattress as you bury your face in the pillow to keep your noises down.

"N-No", you whisper, a deep sigh coming from Kyoutani and even though you know you shouldn’t do it, you stop him from bending over to the drawer of his nightstand, making him look at you in confusion.

“But I still want you to raw me, please...", you add and gulp harshly when his whole body seems to go into some kind of haze once the words leaveyour lips.

Kyoutani looks at you, his eyes darkening even more as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a loud moan of your name.

"I can't just raw you, baby", he presses through gritted teeth, his mask slowly falling apart the more you rub yourself against his cock, "you've never had sex without a condom and my pull out game is weak, even weaker when it comes to you because fuck – the thought of filling you up with my cum sounds so fucking good", Kyou groans when you scoot up a little, taking his length into your hand before you line him up with your entrance.

"B-But what if you get pregnant, sweet girl?", he sighs and tries to pull away, making you wrap your arms around his neck as you look into his pretty eyes.

"That will just show everyone around us how well you've fucked me", you whisper and elicit another deep moan from him, his whole body shaking slightly as he tries to hold himself back from just pounding into you.

"Such a cockhungry whore", he hisses and – finally – starts pushing his fat cock into your tiny cunt, the slight stretch making you both gasp for air.

“If that's what you want, then that’s what you get, you little slut. I'm going to fucking raw you and fill you up with all of my cum, make you my cumslut", Kyoutani grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before he harshly grabs your face and looks into your eyes as he buries more of himself inside of you.

"F-Fuck, you're big", you whimper, throwing your head back and trying your very best to stop clenching around his cock.

“We're almost there, baby- you got this, s-stop clenching", Kyoutani grunts against your parted lips. Without a warning, Kyoutani pushes the rest of his huge cock inside of you, bottoming out completely.

“F-Fuck...you’re so– tight”, Kentarou grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, “it’s like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“S-So good...so fucking good, nngh-”, your little whimpers and whines are slurred, barely coherent as the feeling of being filled to the brim pushes you into a haze of pleasure.

You feel the pulsation of his cock against your spongy walls, his hands nervously roaming your body and groping one of your tits, as he obviously tries to calm himself down.

And then he finally starts moving.

A deep, guttural moan leaves the both of you when he pulls himself out of your tight hole, dragging his huge cock along the walls of your little cunt in the most delicious way possible before he almost brutally shoves himself back in again.

“Mhm, just like that, you little brat”, he grunts, sitting up on his knees as he pushes your legs further apart, his eyes focusing the way his fat cock stretches your hole just how he’s been imagining it all this time, “coming up to me and talking about having your little cunt rawed like some cumhungry little whore.”

You start nodding almost instantly at his words, your brain barely recognizing them, the only thing you can focus on being the way the tip of his cock grazes the entrance to your womb with every harsh, brutal thrust of his hips.

His thrusts find a steady rhythm, hard and so, so deep.

“Open your mouth”, Kyoutani grunts, a single drop of sweat finding its way down the center of his tattooed chest, the sight making you whimper and whine for him even louder as you part your lips as soon as you process his words.

“You know what? I’d rather have you say it”, he suddenly hisses, pulling his cock out of your spasming cunt before he presses your legs together and shoves himself back inside of you with one skilled thrust of his hips.

You have no idea at what point you start crying but by the time Kyoutani's moans and grunts start picking up their pace, you're a sobbing mess.

“S-Say wh-what?”, you sob, hiding your tear and spit stained face behind your hands, not daring to look up at him.

“I want you to ask for my spit and beg for my cum”, Kentarou’s voice grows raspier, the dominance seething through every single one of his words makes it so easy for you to fall even further into the hole of absolute submission, “and stop hiding yourself, angel girl..I wanna watch the way I’m fucking your brains out.”

A row of loud, high pitched whines and a combination of sobs and moans are the only thing you manage to respond with, your brain clouded with the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the spongy walls of your cunt.

And before you can even comprehend his next movement, you hear the loud sound of skin meeting skin followed by the delicious feeling of a sting sending jolts of pain through your body, something you’ve come to love after so many hours with the tattoo artist.

“I told you to ask and beg for it, angel girl..you’re making me wait”, Kentarou spits, never once halting the movements of his hips as he watches the way you start sobbing even more, your cunt spasming around his cock after his painful spank.

“Please...f-fuck, please spit in my mouth and my face and on my cunt- want it all”, you start brabbling, another row of incohrent begs following right afterwars as your hips sloppily meet his harsh thrusts, “I want you to stuff me full of your cum, too- please, Daddy, wanna be your little c-cumdumpster.”

“There you go..”, Kyoutani’s plump lips stretch into a big smile as his cock throbs at the sound of that one forbidden little word he’s come to love even more after hearing it from you only a handful of times.

He didn’t hesitate to tell you about how much it turns him on around two weeks after the two fo you had started dating and even though he never really expected you to use it, he was secretely hoping for you to overcome your shyness.

You had used it only twice before when the pleasure had gotten too much for your brain to handle and Kyoutani knew you’d stop holding yourself back as soon as you got a taste of his cock.

“What did you just call me, pretty girl?”, he cooes, giggling softly at the way you whimper and cry even harder, knowing oh so well what he wants to hear.

And for the first time you just can’t get yourself to argue with the little voice in the back of your head; the feeling of his cock stretching your tiny cunt making it so, so easy to just let go of all those doubts and worries.

“Please, Daddy”, you reply and look into his eyes, groping your own tits as you arch your back to feel him even deeper inside of you, “n-need your cum inside of me...please- want everyone to know who I belong to.”

You don’t really expect it, yet your pussy almost instantly start clenching around his cock when kyoutani harshly grabs your face, making you part your lips before he spits into your mouth.

The loud, lewd sound of it rings in your ears in the best way possible and acting like a literal aphrodisiac in combination with the delicious taste of his saliva coating the hot muscle of your tongue.

You hum softly before you swallow it all, a gentle sob escaing your lips before you look up at him again.

"Now go on, angel girl”, he growls, pushing his hand in between your legs to rub circles into your hardened clit, “I want you to cum for me. Be a good little dumpster for your Daddy and show me what only I can do to you.”

You can barely process his words, the lewdness just fueling the fire in the pit of your stomach as you lose yourself in the feeling of your upcoming high. But you still start nodding, cringing at the feeling your saliva dripping down your jawline.

And with one last thrust, you feel your high crashing down onto you with such heaviness, you're left absolutely breathless.

Your whole body is trembling as the waves of your orgasm hit you, a row of incoherent words leaving your lips before you stop trying and just start crying for your precious Daddy.

"That's my baby”, is the first thing your brain manages to process again, everything still a blurry mess and when you look at Kyou, you realize you’re still cumming.

Your cunt is almost painfully spasming around his big cock, your juices dripping down the sides of his length as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

“You’re such a good, good girl for Daddy, aren’t you? I'm so proud of you", Kyoutani praises you, his thrust a little sloppier than before and from the way he's digging his fingers into the skin of your waist, you can only assume that he's also quiet close, "you're also going to take all of Daddy’s cum, right, baby? We gotta make sure I fill you up nicely..."

You take a deep breath, your slightly overstimulated cunt sending shivers down your spine as your eyes focus on Kyoutani's parted lips.

"Please, Daddy...need you to fill me up with your cum", you encourage him and when you slowly push two of your fingers into his mouth, knowing how much he loves to suck on them no matter what situation you’re both in, you finally get to see his whole face crunch up in pleasure.

His body tenses up as his grip on your waist becomes firmer before he starts cumming inside of you with a deep, raspy moan; coating the walls in several shades of white with three thick spurts of his cum.

Kyoutani buries his face in the crook of your neck as he slowly calms down, loud breathing and rushed gasps for air the only thing to fill the inside of his empty room.

"I love you so much", he whispers and gives you a soft kiss, his cock still firmly buried inside of your sensitive cunt before he shoots you a soft smile; looking almost boyish with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

"I love you, too, D-Daddy”, you whisper, gulping harshly as the words leave your lips, feeling yourself grow even smaller underneath his strong yet comforting gaze, “thank you for giving us a chance", you add and pull him into for another kiss.

"Kyoutani Kentarou, your favorite group of walking disappointments is back and better than ev - oh", Iwaizumi Hajime, Kyoutani's High School best friend, fellow tattoo aritst and roommate suddenly yells and almost brutally slams open the door, startling you to the last bone in your body.

Kyoutani is quick to cover you up with his body, his hand reaching for one of the blankets on the floor as he grunts in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know–", "What is it, Iwa-Chan? Is he jerking off again? Kyoutani Kentarou you little piece of shit, just go and fuck that–", just like Iwaizumi, Oikawa – who also happens to be his best friend, felow tattoo artist and roommate – comes to stand in the doorway, bumping into his best friend before he finally spots the two of you.

"You're naked", he points out, closing his eyes almost instantly after realizing what he has just come to witness and despite the disgusting feeling of wanting to disappear and never come back again, you can't help but giggle at their shocked and slightly disgusted faces.

Kyoutani takes a deep breath and pulls out of you, still making sure to hide you behind his body before he hands you the blanket and lets his eyes shift to the door, looking at his best friends in pure disbelief.

"Kawa stop fucking staring and – can you two please fuck off?", he yells, pulling the boys back to reality and the way both of them shift to look at you only to blush from their necks to their ears has you chuckling softly.

This type of situation is nothing you’re not used to – unfortunately.

"Uhm – of course! Oh, my fucking God! So sorry, Kyou", Iwaizumi stutters and wraps his fingers around the doorknob, avoiding your eyes as much as he can before he pushes Oikawa away and then closes the door with another row of apologies.

Kyoutani just looks at you apologetically as he shakes his head and face palms himself, making the both of you burst into loud laughter.

And after taking a shower together and actually eating some late dinner with the boys, you fall asleep with Kyoutani's arms tightly wrapped around your waist, his face buried inside the crook of your neck and one last love confession.

And when those sweet words fall past his lips yet again, you realize – you're finally home.

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#haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #kyoutani smut #kyoutani kentarou smut #hq smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x female reader #hq!! x female reader #kyoutani x female reader

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starglow-xx · 3 years

Note

hello! may i request headcanons for chuuya having a crush on someone who's dense? like he could ask them out in the most straightforward way possible and it would still go over their head?

yes, yes of course you may!

sorry this took so long! my computer was out of commission for abt a week (or two..??)

but this is also my birthday writing piece for chuuya!! (4/29/21) i even added a small drabble thingy in addition to the hcs for the occasion hehe

from where i am, it is about fifteen minutes past midnight so it’s officially chuuya day here!!

happy birthday chuuya i love you! you deserve the whole world and everyone is willing to fight tooth and nail to ensure your happiness! we love you! 💗💗

anyways, i hope you all enjoy this! i kinda had some writer’s block but it was still a lot of fun to write! there might be some mistakes, but i’ll scan over it again later. reader is gender neutral! have fun!

chuuya having a crush on a dense! reader

nakahara chuuya x gn! reader

im cackling somebody help him

he’s frustrated bc you can’t take a hint or a thousand but he can’t even be mad bc he’s whipped

“look at you all dressed up today, wanna go out later? my treat?”

“oh really? thanks chuuya-san! you’re such a nice friend. i’ll go invite the others right now, i’ll see you later!”

“...”

fast forward to later in the evening and he finds himself at a little restaurant with the black lizard + higuchi and akutagawa

sigh

in unison all of them go, “thank you for the meal chuuya-san!” (except aku and hirotsu are quieter & and gin just a nods hehe)

“no problem” (ꐦ ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

gin only pats him on the back in sympathy

he spends a lot of time trying to think of ways to make it absolutely and undeniably clear that he has feelings for you

he always fails

“(y/n) i like you”

“i like you too chuuya-san”

“really?”

“mhm”

“t-then will you—”

“you’re a really great friend! and superior too”

“...nevermind”

“oh were you saying something?”

“nah, just forget about it”

tachihara is laughing in the corner of the corridor

dont worry, chuuya made sure to get back at him

chuuya’s been pinning after you for years and frankly, his failed attempts to woo you has lead everyone to the breaking point

and i mean everyone

yes, even aku

hell even dazai

but dazai also thinks it’s funny, so he doesn’t mind all that much

okay bye bye dazai-san this headcanon set isn’t abt you rn

PLEASE EVERYONE FEELS SO BAD FOR HIM

they knew even if he kissed you, you still might not get it

so they decided to help him

super secret mission get chuuya and (y/n) together is a go!

they’re still working on a proper mission name, don’t mind them

they had a super secret strategy meeting!

you can bet your ass that they nearly got nothing done

akutagawa & kaiji weren’t much help, neither was higuchi, mori, or elise

tachihara nearly got killed for a thoughtless comment

“just tell them chuuya-san!”

“i already fucking did you ass!”

gin, hirotsu, and kouyou were the most helpful !!

hirotsu and kouyou both agreed on the idea that chuuya should try courting with bouquets of flowers instead of flat out asking you bc they knew you found them pretty

(even if you don’t identify as a female, flowers are for everyone no matter gender or sexuality! so let’s normalize giving flowers to everyone <33 )

gin didn’t speak but she used cards to communicate

everyone knew that you weren’t stupid (you wouldn’t have survived in the mafia if you were) but they did know that you were only stupid when it came to all this lovey dovey stuff

i mean, if chuuya gave you flowers every so often, there’s no way that you wouldn’t piece it together at some point

right...??

but kouyou assured him that even though you wouldn’t get it right away, you’d appreciate the gestures and that he’ll stand out more

she even said that if someone gave her flowers, she would appreciate it, whether or not she reciprocated their feelings

it takes guts to be so up front with your feelings after all

gin and hirotsu only nodded with her explanation

once again, this only provoked a reaction out of tachihara

“what do you know gin? i get the old man and kouyou-san, they’re grown, but you? what do you know abt courting? or flowers? what are you a girl?”

akutagawa choked on his cough, higuchi on air, and on the other side of yokohoma at the ada, dazai is cackling

yes, dazai somehow placed a listening device onto chuuya’s hat and was listening in

don’t ask how, it’s dazai

“DAZAI GET YOUR BANDAGED ASS OFF THE COUCH AND STOP LAUGHING”

anyways

the next day, chuuya did what was barely discussed and for once, things actually started to look up

until they started look to down again

at first, it actually looked like you understood his intentions after he gave you a bouquet of flowers

literally everyone was leaning against the opposite hallway you two were in and then they got excited !!

especially chuuya !

but then your expression sort of changed...??

and then in their heads they simultaneously went, “oh no”

they knew that expression

it was very familiar when you tended to friend zone chuuya

but boy let me tell you what you said next made them facepalm and or make their jaws drop

“ah, so you really are friend zoning me huh chuuya-san; what a shame, i really did like you”

LEMME TELL YOU WHEN I SAY THAT CHUUYA WAS DISTRESSED I MEAN HE WAS DISTRESSED

you liked him??

him of all people??

he wasn’t complaining, no of course not, but he still couldn’t believe it

but that wasn’t what he was really focusing on right now

what in any form or language did it say he was friend zoning you?!

flower language apparently

chuuya chose to buy the bouquet of yellow roses, pink carnations, and yellow carnations bc he thought you would appreciate the brighter colors, and so that you’d remember them better (because remembering them, meant remembering him)

but ooh boy

altogether, they meant the exact opposite message he wanted to send

someone help him pls

“you see chuuya-san, yellow roses mean friendship, pink carnations mean gratitude, and yellow carnations mean rejection; sooo in a nutshell, these pretty much say ‘thank you for being my friend, but im rejecting you”

no one can tell if tachihara is crying or wheezing

and dazai is having the time of his life

yes, he started listening in on him again

and chuuya is just stunned

like speechless and unmoving stunned

is he just bad at this whole courting/dating thing?? it’s only been one day and of it and somehow he was the one doing the rejecting??

“thank you for the flowers chuuya-san, i’ll be going now; i’ll make sure to let this affect our friendship. i’ll see you tomorrow!”

you passed by the not so subtle group of people

“tachihara-kun..?? are you alright?”

just for context, he was leaning his forehead against the wall using his forearm

again, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or wheezing

“i-im okay (y/n)-san...i think c-chuuya-san has it worse than me”

“...okay..?”

BACK TO CHUUYA

he’s still frozen poor baby

but it’s okay bc after like 5 more seconds he’s chasing you down the hallway you were walking in

kouyou, with a knowing smile on her face, ushers everyone away towards the opposite direction

she received some whines (ahem, tachihara and mori) but silenced them by summoning golden demon

but it’s okay

if they run fast enough, they can see what happens through the security cameras

chuuya caught up with you and tried to explain everything but he was exhausted

emotionally, physically (bc since when did you walk that fast??), and generally just tired with the whole situation

he just wanted to call you his; was that too much to ask??

as explosive as he can be, he can be calm and collected too

and he really did try to be that way as he talked with you but it was very difficult at the moment

the dumbfounded and confused look on your face his face twitch with annoyance and his heart started beating faster bc god you were cute

BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT RIGHT NOW

thank goodness after what seemed like years, you finally somewhat understood what happened

you didn’t understand completely but it was something

The two of you stood in the middle of the unusually empty hallway facing each other, you with the bouquet still in hand. It was quiet as you and Chuuya assessed the situation.

You looked at him skeptically and he stared right back you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“...So you do like me Chuuya-san??”

“Yes”

“And you were trying to court me just now, not friend zone me??”

“Yes”

You got most of your questions out of the way, but there was something that you’ve been wondering about for quite a while.

“...So you’re not gay for Dazai-san??”

“Yes, im not wait—GAY FOR DAZAI?? THAT MACKEREL??”

Chuuya did a double take. What in heavens name made it seem like he liked that suicidal maniac?? Why would he choose him if he had you?

Like he would choose him anyways; or ever consider him as a possible romantic partner.

“Oh, so you are?”

“NO! I SAID I LIKED YOU DIDN’T I?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you liked Dazai-san too. As annoying as he is, he can be quite charming—”

He was out of patience at this point (nope definitely not because you were talking about Dazai who told you that?) and just decided to kiss you.

You immediately melted into the kiss and kissed him back with the same amount of love and feeling.

Letting the bouquet fall to the ground, you wrapped you arms around his neck and his put his on your lower back and brought you closer to him. After a few more moments, the two of you broke apart for air.

The two of you, slightly out of breath, leaned your foreheads against each other and just basked in each others presence.

Chuuya looked into your (e/c) eyes and asked you just a little bit above a whisper, “Now do you get my intentions and feeling?”

You blinked at him before breaking out into a grin, “Hmm I’m not sure; do you wanna do that again Chuuya?”

The red head only blinked back at you before rolling his eyes, a smile present on his handsome features, his heart fluttering at you using his name with the honorific.

“Dumbass”

Smiling cheekily at him, you pressed a kiss on his cheek and started dragging him towards the lobby to take a walk around the building perimeter, knowing that the two of you can’t be too far from work.

The way down to the lobby was mostly in comfortable silence until you said something that made Chuuya want to bash his head against the wall.

“You know, you could’ve just told me you liked me Chuuya. It’s not like I would’ve said no.”

Once again, as the rest of the more power mafia members watch from security cameras, it is hard to tell whether Tachihara is crying or wheezing of laughter.

omake !!

The two of you just started making your way around the building when suddenly a very familiar voice came from Chuuya’s prized hat.

“Chuuyaaaa!! It was about time you stopped being a chicken, Chibi!”

Removing his hat from his head, he started yelling at it not knowing exactly where the listening device was planted.

“TEME! HOW DID YOU—”

“And (y/n)! I would congratulate you, but I think I would rather offer you my condolences. Why him?! He’s just a slimy slug. OOH OOH how would you like to join me in a double suicide?! A shame it won’t be a lover’s suicide but it’ll annoy Chuuya so I think it’ll be worth it! ”

“YOU—”

“And please don’t kiss while I’m listening in. You made me lose my appetite! And it was such a shame! I was eating crab using Kunikida-kun’s money! Do you know what you’ve cost me?!”

“DAZAI YOU PIECE OF—”

“Ah! Kunikida-kun is here! I have to go!”

You can hear something is the background that vaguely sounds like, “DAZAI YOU WASTE OF BANDAGES STOP USING MY MONEY”

“DAZAI DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE IM NOT DONE WITH—”

*Click!*

The click sound from the hat revealed that Dazai disconnected.

Chuuya twitched and glared furiously at his signature hat hating that the voice he hated the most came out of it.

“Aww, I didn’t get to talk to Dazai-san”

Chuuya whipped his head towards you, a look of mock (or real) betrayal showing on his features.

You laughed at him before taking the hat out of his hands and placing it on his head.

He shyly looked away before muttering a thanks making you smile wider. Just as the two of you were about to start walking, a small explosion erupted from his hat; it was likely that Dazai made the listening device self destruct.

“DAZAI YOU BASTARDD”

At the Armed Detective Agency, a certain suicidal maniac hid from the wrath of his current partner as he thought about the wrath his old one.

“Hmmm I wonder if Chuuya would finally stop wearing his ugly hats if I blow all of them up...”

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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hentaikyuu · 3 years

Text

triggers – oral [ female + male receiving ], masturbation [ male ], bondage

word count – 1.7k

note – finally posted :D

pairing – best friend! bokuto x reader

shit, you take me so well- fuck!" bokuto heaves, getting interrupted by his own moaning. "fuck, fuck, fuck- oh my god-" his eyes roll back as he continues to fuck his fist.

you watch from behind the door, thighs pressed together with the sound of your best friend's deep moans. when your best friend had excused himself to "take care of himself", you never expected for this, or for him to be so big.

you unconsciously take a step closer, eyes trained on his fucked out face. the door creaks open, causing bokuto to pause, and tilt his head at the door. fuck.

your best friend suddenly chuckles, having finally spotted your peering face behind the door frame.

"enjoying the show, princess?" he leans against the chair, and shakes his head. "you know, spying isn't something a good girl would do," he raises his eyebrow as you continue to hide behind the doorframe, and beckons you with two fingers. "come on, angel, let's make me feel good, hm?"

you swallow audibly, and walk to him, avoiding his gaze. sitting on the bed next to his chair, you stare at the ground, suddenly interested in the tiles.

he clicks his tongue, and grabs your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "awh, the angel won't even look at her best friend?" he pretends to pout, and moves your face closer to his, running a rough hand along your jawline. bokuto leans closer to your face, whispering in your ear, "princess, do you want this?"

you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you realize how close his body was to yours. nodding slowly, you breathe, "yes please, bo... want it so bad..."

he nods, smirking proudly at you as he looks you up and down as if a predator looking at his prey. "that's a good angel."

your best friend tilts your jaw up with his hand, and slowly closes the space between your lips. letting out a whimper, you reach up to grip his hair as he deepens the kiss.

"oh fuck-" bokuto breaks the kiss to leave small bites along your jaw and neck, kissing and nipping everywhere to make small gasps escape from your mouth.

"you're so innocent, it drives me crazy, fuck-" he almost growls, lifting your shirt and bra as he continues to attack your neck with his bites.

"bo-" you moan out, tilting your neck towards him so he can have more access.

the boy takes a deep breath as he stares at your naked torso, staring at you in awe. "wow. you were hiding all of this from me?" he shakes his head as he runs his warm hands on you, causing you to shut your eyes. he stares at your closed eyes, biting his lip as he gets an idea. he leans in close again, whispering, "since my angel is so intent on keeping her eyes closed, how about i help with that, yeah?" you shivered as his hot breath hit your eyes, and you nod at him.

"good." as you smile at his praise, bokuto grabs a nearby ribbon and ties it around your eyes as a makeshift blindfold, and pushes you on top of the bed. "dont. move." you stay still as he continues on to grab another ribbon, tying it around your hands, and tying that to the bedpost. he stands back, nodding at his finished work. "now i can play all i want with my little princess."

you inhale sharply, pressing your thighs together at his words.

"oh come on, angel." bokuto glances at your thighs pressing together and holds them apart lightly. "you can't just pleasure yourself first, can you? you have to pleasure daddy." he pushes you into an upright position, and pulls your pants off, biting back a smile as he sees your pink lacy panties. "how adorable."

you shake your head at his words. "not adorable, bo!"

"yeah?" he runs a finger up your slit, making your head throw back instinctively. "and that's not cute? what is it then?" he removes his finger, making you whine from the loss of contact.

you shrug at him, and try to press your thighs together again.

"uh uh uh~" he chides, keeping your legs apart with one hand. "looks like no one has taught you any manners, huh? don't worry, princess. im here to teach you." he flicks your panties lightly, hitting your clit exactly, drawing out a yelp from you.

"teach... me?"

"that's right. in fact, i take it upon myself to do so. and to fuck you dumb, of course." the corner of his lips turn up into a smirk as your best friend adds, "im sure you would look so gorgeous fucked dumb, with my hand around your throat, the only word you're able to say being my name."

you feel heat creep up to your cheeks as bokuto says those words. you were far too gone to protest, to even say anything. you nod. "want that... want everything!"

"my, what a greedy little princess." he smacks your breast sharply, biting his lip as he watches it jiggle. "and yet, so pretty..." he runs a thumb on your breast and cups it, bringing it closer to his mouth. he plants soft kisses on your breasts, enjoying listening to you moan.

"more... i need more!" your mind was filled him, only him, and he had barely touched you. your thoughts were just as lust filled as his predatory eyes, as they watched your expressions of pleasure.

"more?" bokuto smacks your other breast, trying not to chuckle as you whined and wiggled with his touch. "oh come on, angel, use your words now."

"fuck, please, i need you, please... please..." you start begging, eyebrows furrowing with the thought of not ever getting anything to ease the pressure on your core.

your best friend smirks at your words, watching you wiggle around with a mildly impressed look on his face. "you need me, angel? you really do? need me?"

"m-mhm..."

"fuck, that's so hot." bokuto begins nipping below your breasts, making his way down to your panties. "fuck..." he breathes out, hooking his fingers on your pantie line, and finally pulling down. tossing your panties to the side, he begins kissing your swollen clit almost frantically, like a starved dog.

"bo- fu- bo!" you bite down on your lip to stop any more moans from coming out as he continues to lick at your bud quickly. "shit-"

your so called "bo" is now sitting on the bed, hands gripping your thighs so hard it could leave bruises, licking and kissing at your bud so quickly, so frantically, so perfectly. waves of euphoria shoot through your body, eyes rolling back due to the pleasure your best friend was giving you.

"feels good?" his low voice sent shivers through your body, turning you on more than you expected. he smirks at your expression, licking twice more. "answer my question. if you want to fucked, that is."

you nod, shaking your head hard. "yes! feels really good, please! want to get fucked!"

he shakes his head. "does pretty little pet only respond when i threaten her?" he clicks his tongue. "no fucking manners." he slaps your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure mixed with pain up your body. "hm? you like that?" he slaps it again, chuckling at the filthy sounds that came from your mouth every time he slapped it. "i can tell."

a squeak escapes your mouth as he keeps on slapping your sensitive clit, stopping between each slap to caress it gently. "bo! please!" you let out a choked sob, almost crying at the pressure he had built up.

"please what, angel? you need to use your words with me if you want to get anywhere." he purses up his lips and opens your jaw with one hand, spitting into your mouth. "fuck- how does it taste, princess?"

you swallow eagerly, opening your mouth hopefully. the blindfold made your senses elevate to a different level, and every time bokuto slightly brushed against your body, you felt your body reacted immensely to his touches. you were hot and were already tired, with cute little puffs coming out of your mouth. bokuto's hand was now wrapped around your throat, squeezing so perfectly that you could cum just from that. you just felt so good.

"tastes so good, bo! please... need you..." you cry out, hands gripping the sheets as you thought about him not giving you his cock. "please! use me!"

he chuckles. "use you? you wanna be my pretty lil fucktoy?"

you nod emphatically, adding another "please..." for more effect.

"fuck." he grunts, running his hand through his hair, your begging made him more hornier than before. "you know how fucking pathetic you look like, right? all pretty like this, in front of your best friend?"

"mhm! so pa-pathetic, bo! please-"

bokuto shakes his head. "and the little angel can't even speak without stuttering? is this all because of me?"

"mhm..." a tear slips out. "please!"

he chuckles. "since my little angel begged so well, daddy will let you make him feel good as a treat, okay?"

"m-mhm!" you look at bokuto, another tear forming in your eye. "wanna be good and make you feel good!" you whisper, looking to him for words of praise.

he chuckles, hand reaching to caress your already tear stained cheek. "oh, darling. you will." he moves to your wrists, letting the ribbon go and making you sit up. "on your knees now, angel."

you nod immediately, dropping to the floor to look up at him innocently, making him smile and whisper, "good girl. now open up~" as you open your jaw obediently, he pushes his cock inside your mouth, smiling sweetly at you.

the boy slowly begins to move, every shallow thrust of his hips making you whine, every roll of his hips making his head get thrown back in pleasure and ecstasy. you were sure you were dripping at the sight. his hands made their way to your hair, weaving themselves in and tugging every time you let out a whimper.

"fuck, angel, im going to go faster, okay?"

you nod at his words, making him pat your head proudly. he starts to speed up, thrusting into your mouth and making you gag. your eyes start to tear up with the abuse of your throat and your grip on his thighs becomes harder.

bokuto looks down at you, smirking at the look on your face. whimpering and needy, yet still needing to him feel good. just the way he wanted you.

“gonna- fuck, gonna cum-” your best friend cums in your mouth, filling your throat with his white seed. wincing slightly at the taste, you swallow it eagerly, bright eyes turning to him for more.

“daddy’s gonna touch me now?” you ask, cocking your head slightly.

“oh, just you wait, darling. you’ll never regret letting your best friend fuck you.”

#completely self indulgent #no one :#me : *italicizes everything*#workz 🍭#bokuto fic #bokuto x yn #bokuto smut #haikyuu fics #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kotaro bokuto #bokuto x reader #bokuto imagines #hq #anime

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hoodieofholland · 3 years

Note

Can u write a tickling war with best-friend!tom. Maybe Haz records them and post on insta so fans start to ship them ? ❤️

A/n: added some context first, got this idea and couldn't help but write it, hope you dont mind :)

Friends to lovers au - Actor!tom x best friend!reader

Warnings: none, just fluffy stuff

Masterlist

"Have anything planned for the evening, love?"

You hear Tom calling for you, but decide to keep reading the book on your hands nonetheless, not daring to avert your gaze to his face. Keeping a stoic face, you read through the lines of your book, though you're not really paying any attention to it. You just wanted to teach your best friend a lesson.

"Y/n? You here?" He chuckles nervously, trying to ease the thick air of tension he brought to himself. You were mad at Tom since last night, when he admitted he watched a movie with a girl, his date - a movie that both of you were excited to watch.

You shouldn't be so mad at it, you thought to yourself, but you were. Tom was your best friend, and you wanted all the best things for him, but that didn't mean putting any other girl above you. Knowing that he spent a precious time - which is pretty scarse for him because of his job - with another woman, watching your favorite movie together, drove you mad.

And, obviously, it did have something to do with your little crush on him, but you'd never - ever - admit this part.

"Y/n, darling, won't you talk to me?", he sighed, taking a seat on the couch besides you. You're taking most of its space, but he doesn't mind, touching your ankle ever so softly.

"I'm not your darling, for what I recall", you say in a cold and empty voice, flipping a page on your book.

Tom sighs heavily. He knows it's not true, but he feels hurt anyways. "Well, at least you're not giving me the silence treatment", he mumbles to himself, under his breathe. You look at him through your lashes, face still down.

"I would, if I wanted to", you flip through another page, "But came to the conclusion that it's not worth my time nor energy".

Tom grimaces, knowing you were joking, but not liking your tone. "Y/n, love, I've told you I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again".

His pleading voice touches your insides, and you squirm on your seat. Once you make the mistake of looking to his face, into those beautiful puppy brown eyes, you sigh in defeat, closing your book and putting it aside.

"It better not, Holland", you cross your arms. Tom wrinkles his nose.

"Don't call me that"

"Well, since you're in redemption, I think I might call you whatever the shit I want", you say, shrugging.

Tom opens his mouth in chock, but doesn't argument. "So, we're fine again?"

You pout, a fake deep in thoughts expression, before saying, "We'll see about that. For now, I rather be on my own company and maybe watch some of my favorite movies alone. Or maybe I should invite Haz"

Tom narrows his eyes. "Your favorite movies are my favorite movies", he says as a matter of fact.

"Yes, that's correct", you give him a victory smile and then get up from the sofa. "So, I'll be back in-"

Before you can finish your sentence or moves, a yelp scapes your throat by the surprise when Tom grabs your hips and pull you back to the sofa, your back landing on it not so softly.

"What the fu-"

"You're not gonna do it, y/n", Tom says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning both of your hands above your head. And though he was so talented on what he did for a living, you couldn't say he was playing the greatest role now, pretending to be stern and mad while hovering his body over yours. In fact, you could see his playful smirk on the corner of his thin lips. "'Cause now you're held against your will. And if you wanna watch those movies so bad, you're gonna take my company, you liking it or not".

"Unfair. You take another girl to watch what I wanted to, but I can't invite Haz, my incredibly friendly best friend?", you tease, wiggling your brows, but Tom's smile drops.

"He's not your best friend", Tom states, the grip on your wrists getting a little tighter.

"From now on, I decided that this is him".

Tom's face assumes an expression of doubt, just to fade to a smug one once again. "You're just jealous".

You arch your brows, incredulous. His breathing is so close to your face right now that you can sense your closeness, and if you're not imagining this yourself, it was very possible that the both of you touched each other's lips right now.

"Jealous of what?", you swallow thickly, eyes averting to his lips on them on. You can see his smirk growing immediately.

"Well, darling...", he emphasized, his accent thick enough to send shivers down your spine. "You're jealous of my date".

"Only on your imagination, Thomas", you split too quickly, which didn't make it any easier to swipe off that smugness on his face. If anything, it just made the whole situation worse.

"It's clear as water to me", he leans in, a wide smile plastered on his face, making his eyes wrinkle. The air seems to be stuck on your throat as he does so, and your heart scapes a beat when he gives you a sweet kiss on your cheek. "But you don't have to, sweetheart. You're the only girl I wanna around".

You know you shouldn't take this to the heart, but it's not up to you the tight feeling on your chest when you hear these words. You try yo convince yourself that he only says it as a friend, but something in his eyes, in the way he speaks those words with so much meaning slipping out of his lips, makes you imagine that wanted to share something else with you.

You sigh, feeling your walls break down. Tom was a charmer, you knew it already, but the way he spook with you, the sweetness of his words were beyond this part of his personality.

"You sound convincing", you try to say playfully, but you don't smile and stare directly into his eyes. He does the same.

"Because it's true", Tom tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding your eyes as he loses himself in his thoughts. "Yesterday, I realized that I was looking for something that I already have. Isn't it dumb?", he looks at you with a kind yet insecure smile. You give it back.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me". You heartbeat is so quick that you can bet he can listen to it, for the proximity. He's so pretty. You want to tell him that you feel like this, that you couldn't chase whatever you and Tom had, that this part of your life felt complete.

But the moment you part your lips to say so, Tom's smile widens and he releases your wrists just to take his hands to your belly. "You sure about that, love? Wanna take it back?", he says, a devilish smile playing on his face.

"Never"

"You asked for it, y/n", and then it all started. Tom started to tickle your belly, just on your weak point, where he knew you were more sensitive at. You quickly loose your air, gasping and laughing at the same time as he works his fingers on your skin.

"Oh, my God, Tom, stop!", you yell, rolling to the sides as you try to kick him away from you. Tom laughs' fill the air around you, and it's the most beautiful sound of your day.

"Make me, darling"

You fight with all your strength (and part of you believe he left his body loosen a bit, so you could have any chance to turn the game over). Finally, you're able to throw your body towards his and have him laying on the couch instead, your body over his as you tickle his neck, holding him im place by lacing his lower half with your legs.

"Not so funny, uh?" You tease, watching as his body squirms under you. You laugh along him, but it's not much time until he starts to tickle you back.

"What the hell you guys doing? Can hear you from across the-" Haz enters the living room, stopping in his tracks as soon as he catches the sight of his two friends in a tickling war. He chuckles silently, amused by the way you looked like a lovely couple already.

He knew about Tom's crush on you, and even though you'd never verbalize it, he had an idea about yours too. He sigh contentedly, a peaceful smile on his face, leaning against the door frame. The two of you don't even notice the moment he grabs his phone and point the camera at you, recording the scene.

Tom suddenly flip the two of you, propping himself on his elbows over you. "Say you're sorry", he demands out loud, still managing to tickle you.

"I- I have nothing- to be sorry abou-" you can't even speak an entire sentence, out of breath as you fight to win the battle. "You the one in redemption!"

Haz has to hold back his laughter. What two love birds.

He stops the filming when the two of you seem tired enough and are about to give up the tickling war. Making his way back discreetly, he opens his Instagram app and post the video as a Stories.

After the fight, reconciliation

Laughing to himself, he shakes his head and post.

Haz didn't know it by the time he posted the video, but by the end of that day, the internet would be overwhelmed with so many messages shipping you and Tom, who couldn't avoid the obvious fact that both of you were in love with each other anymore.

#tom holland #tom holland blurbs #tom holland imagines #tom holland fic #tom x reader #friend to lovers!tom #tom holland fluff #actor!tom #best friend!reader

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daikushiji · 3 years

Note

hii! I came across your blog and my god I love it you are such a good writer! I was wondering if you could do kuroo, bokuto, and atsumu trying to get the reader to smile, bcs they dont really show much emotion?? if not then just ignore this <3

making his crush smile

pairings: kuroo x reader, bokuto x reader, atsumu x reader

a/n: helloo bb and thanks for your nice words!! sorry to keep you waiting so long, i really hope you like this!! <33

Kuroo Tetsurō

since your childhood you’ve been criticized and talked down every time you opened your mouth

which made you understand that maybe it was better keeping your thoughts just for yourself

but everything changed when you met kuroo, someone who always listens to you without judgment

he loves spending time with you, watching you open up to him a little more every day

whenever he teased you a little or cracked a joke, you never actually laughed

so he started to write down notes on random pieces of paper and then sliding them in your pockets when you weren’t paying attention

you've never mentioned them, but he was happy with just the thought of you chuckling at his words even if far from his eyes

when one day, spotting you alone at a lunch table, he saw you smiling at your book

dazzled by such a view, he didn’t immediately saw you waving at him

he cautiously walked up to you, afraid to make your smile disappear

getting closer he noticed that it was the exact book in which he slid between the pages a dumb joke that same morning

”this one was particularly funny”

”oh so you also read the other notes?”

”of course! i’ve kept all of them”

and you showed him all the old train tickets and receipts he gave you, held together by a paperclip

going through them, you read out loud your favourite ones with a smile getting bigger and bigger at each word

with a lovesick gaze fixed on you, he couldn’t do anything other than smile as well

Bokuto Kōtarō

being raised to be respectful and collected, you were immediately branded as the quiet kid

your parents always told you to speak only when you were asked to and to guard your emotions for your own protection

so no, you never told bokuto that you like him

but little did you know he fell for you as well, fascinated by how your kindness could brighten up his day immediately

when he entered the classroom, a burning sensation started to grow inside your chest

that day was particularly cold and it was snowing from the night before

he was covered in snow, his face buried in a big scarf

and when he lifted it up, you saw his cheeks and the tip of his nose being so red

shaking his head, he let the snow on his hat fall all around him

with his teeth chattering, he started to rub his hands together, hopping on the spot

”it’s so cold!”

he looked so small in that puffy jacket of his

meeting your gaze, his eyes sparkled so brightly

you were smiling, at him

“you look so funny kō”

drawn by your giggle, he quickly came to you

”did you see all the snow outside?”

a shiver ran down your spine, when he suddenly grabbed your hands in his freezing ones

you nodded, while your lips were still curled up in the sweetest smile ever

and he really thought he wouldn’t have seen anything prettier than the snow that day

Miya Atsumu

in your previous relationship your partner always told you that your laugh was annoying

so you ended up to just stop smiling at all

did atsumu make his mission to get you to smile? yeah sorry

but his jokes were never funny and not even seeing him fight with osamu made you laugh

after losing a bet, he was sent by the team to buy snacks at the store for everybody

and of course he begged you to go with him

but you quickly regretted your choice when he kept trying to make you laugh by making awful puns with brand names

”i can’t stand this any longer, i’ll wait for you outside”

he actually felt sorry for you, saying to himself that some people can’t understand high quality humor

after a few minutes he came out with his legs shaking, trying to balance all the groceries in his arms

he walked towards you, while chip bags and energy bars continued to slip from his hands

enjoying the show, you started to film him trying to pick up one thing from the floor while another fell down on the other side

”would you mind helping me?”

when you put down your phone, he finally saw it

you weren't simply smiling, but actually laughing so hard

he didn't even care when you said you were sending the video to suna

just kept staring at you smile from ear to ear

and when you noticed it, you remembered your ex’s words

“i’m sorry, i know my laugh is irritating”

his eyes went wide open, fixed on your lips

“what are you talking about, i don’t ever wanna stop listening to it”

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angelicmichael · 3 years

Note

my mind forgets to remind me - you're a bad idea w andy 😳👉👈

A/N: Thank u sm for sending this!! You had no idea how happy this made me to write :’) I’m sorry it took me a min tho lmao. The prompt is from Eva’s taylor swift prompt list 😌, but also - I tried to make this fluffy but there is some angst 🤐 actually a lot of angst.. I’m so sorry djdjd. The dynamic /overall relationship is very much like my other Andy fic ngl.. which I wanted to point out haha. This is also probably the most unedited thing ive ever uploaded so plz dont judge my writing too harshly 😭 Otherwise enjoy! <3

Warnings: kinda slow burn?, pining, angstt, Hedwig slander, brief conflict, some fluff hehe, friends to lovers, jealous! reader

You heard the rumors.

Andy Dolan was with Hedwig.

To be completely honest; even without the rumors it was painfully obvious how much truth those words had behind them.. You saw how they acted together. How Andy’s eyes, which were normally filled with torment, finally got some light to them whenever he looked at her; how he was so careful to never disagree with a single fucking word she said or demand she made.. happy to oblige as long as it meant she was his and wouldn’t leave him.

It made you sick.

You hated the kind of person Andy Dolan was making you become.. Seeing your best friend with someone like Hedwig, so selfish and narrow minded made you beyond pissed. But regardless; anger wasn’t the main emotion that you felt when you were with Andy. That was only a result of seeing him with someone else.. someone who wasn’t you.

Trying to deny your feelings was redundant but so was the obvious truth; that he was with Hedwig.

It was something that even though you were nearly positive was certain, you were terrified to confront him over. You were scared that you would finally be the one he would take his anger out on.. He would finally get tired of seeing you and entertaining your prescience when he had no real reason too.

After all; you knew why he commonly enjoyed the presence of Women.. and now that he was taken, you weren’t needed.

Simple as that.

Or that’s what you feared, anyway. That wasn’t actually reality.

Andy Dolan (to your surprise) invited you over for the night.. something that you really thought nothing of until you saw him.

He looked serious; something that was not uncharacteristic of him but it still kept you on edge. Perhaps because you were waiting for him to speak.. wanting desperately to know why Andy had chosen to call you and not Hedwig.

“I’m sorry for calling you over so late,” He started.

He avoided eye contact.. pacing around his room as he stood over currently one of his nightstands.. you sat on his bed - paranoia still clouding your fair judgement.

“It’s okay,” you said.. even though it really wasn’t.

You wanted him to turn around. To make eye contact with you and to tell you directly why exactly he had chosen to call you over, because that reason was starting to become painfully obvious.

“I just couldn’t sleep,” He turned around, his gaze slowly averting from the floor to meet yours. You struggled to see whether he was actually looking at you or not since the lights were off - leaving the two of you in a completely dark room.

You stayed silent for a moment - quietly calculating what you wanted to say next and how you wanted to say it.

Was it insomnia that kept him up?? Nightmares?? And why wasn’t he calling Hedwig or some other girl to help him with this issue?

Why you?

Why now?

“Andy.. since when did you ever have insomnia?” You confronted him carefully.

His eyes, which finally started to come into focus, peered up at you almost in a guilty manner.. as if you had caught him straight in a lie.

You were scared of being too direct at first. Scared that you would set him off and he would ‘force’ you to leave and that would be that.. Because even though being next to Andy was torture; being next to him like this.. in the dark, late at night with no one else around where you two could just talk.. was all that you ever wanted, as corny as it kinda sounded.

“You think I’m lying?” He bit back.

“I never said that, I just.. I don’t know why you would choose to call me instead of someone else-“

“I can’t call Hedwig for everything, (y/n). She only likes to stick around when she’s getting paid,” He says with a snort.

You bit your lip when you heard him say her name.. ‘Hedwig’. He knew exactly what you were getting at.

Fuck.

You wanted to apologize for being irrational and for jumping to conclusions but you didn’t. Apologizing felt wrong in this situation.. this wasn’t about you.

“How did you know I meant Hedwig?” You inquired wholeheartedly.

You could now make out the entire dim outline of his body as he continued to stand by his nightstand, watching you for any sudden movements or - really movement at all.

It was completely unbeknownst to you but Andy felt terrified.

Anxiety was never a feeling he was ever completely unaccustomed too; the constant burden and paranoia of everyone he ever remotely liked leaving him was a reality he had to face more than twice.. perhaps even more now if he actually followed through on his plans tonight, with you.

The paralyzing fear he felt that only grew stronger with every step he took closer to you was nearly too much.. it threatened to consume him - nearly bringing tears to his eyes just at the mere thought of you leaving and rejecting him.

He never felt more fucking ridiculous and dramatic in his life.

“Why do you care so much about Hedwig? I sure don’t, She never gave a fuck about me.. not really. After all - there’s a reason I chose to call you.”

“Oh yeah? And what’s your reason?” You challenged.

You expected for him to recite some bullshit he didn’t really mean. Something to make the two of you feel a bit better about the current predicament you were in but, his next words were sweeter and softer than anything you were willing to anticipate.

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly approached you. He was realistically only a few steps away but every step he took seemed to take a eternity.. like he couldn’t possibly get to you soon enough while simultaneously being too far away.

His steps continued until his feet bumped into yours - his sock covered feet accidentally bumping into your shoes.

Suddenly confused at the sudden accident.. you tilted your head up unexpectedly, before catching his gaze only briefly before you did the unthinkable.. pressing your lips to his in something that was just short of a rational decision.

You waited at first for him to pull away - scared to let yourself become fully swept away by the moment but.. it happened anyway.

Andy’s hands quickly touched your back as his lips started to move slowly and sweetly against yours. Seemingly savoring every moment he now had with you; one that perhaps he thought too, would never get a chance to experience.

You pulled away just before you felt him try to deepen the kiss even further. Only to take a deep, steady breath before leaning in once more. Not letting your brain necessarily control your movements anymore but rather letting your heart take over instead.

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @instinctsxbaby @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @twilightzone24 @glamourouslife99

Let me know if you wanna be added or removed to the taglist! :)

#Andy x reader #Andy Dolan x reader #andy dolan fanfiction #Andy Dolan #cody fern fanfiction #asks #sojournmichael #my fic #reading this back is so funny bc I tried so hard to make this fluffy but-#it’s basically full angst 😭 sorry lmao #but I hope you like this Eva 🥺👉🏻👈🏻#sorry again it’s so late lol #will crosspost to ao3 in the near future lol

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sainadazai · 3 years

Note

Ack hello! Can I request 10+13 prompt drabble for dazai? Thank you in advance! ><

10 . "I-i think we should go to dinner first."

13. "I love you more than coffee." *distant gasps*

More than coffee?

"But y/nnn, work can wait til later, don't you wanna stay and cuddle with meee!?" A whine sounded fro mbehind you, as two arms wrapped around your waist to pull you back into bed.

You wouldn't lie and say that his warm, bare chest on your back didn't feel soothing in all too many ways, but you had to go to work and get out of his house. Last night wasn't something you necessarily regret, but it for sure was a one time thing.

Dating Dazai isn't something women can just do. He doesn't settle, or compromise, and to be honest, his addiction to making life harder for people around him is bothersome. The man was a player, sweet talking and sleeping around, it was his thing.

There was no judgment from you, his life, his choices, it just was a big mess you weren't ready to get into.

"Last night, was a One. Time. Thing." You anounce, getting off of the naked man's lap, not looking back because you know he will look too good to resist when he is draped in only a black silk sheet. The bastard.

You don't see his face turn to a pout, but you can practically hear it through his childish whine.

"But it was so fuun!! And might I add you are surprisingly submissive~"

That sentence earns him a bonk in the head with the shoe you were putting on. "Watch it, Dazai." There's a faint fluster in your tone, despite the glare on your face. Then you're gone, off to the agency to pretend like nothing happened.

Yet as he watches you work all day, Dazai can't help but feel conflicted, because he didn't want any one night things with you. Not anymore at least.

Sure, getting into a heated game of strip poker was a good one time thing, but the afterwards. When he couldn't resist your body any longer? The heat flowing through you both as you satiated a craving neither of you knew you had? Those are things he wants every night.

So he decides to test a boundary. If you sat stop, he'll always stop, but he can see in the your eyes linger a bit when he walks past you, that you want more. Dazai knows his own reputation well, and he won't deny it, he sleeps around. Finds some strange thrill in being able to pick up women left and right, knowing the lengths girls would go for him. It's an ego boost if anything.

He doesn't blame you not wanting to dive into the depths of his complex emotional structure. However he also doesn't understand why he is drawn to you like a moth to flame, knowing you could easily kill him, but he'd honestly be willing to die for another taste.

"Oh, y/n~" He wraps an arm over your shoulder while entering the coffee shop downstairs.

You send him a dry glare, knowing that tone of voice all too well. "Yes, dazai?"

He smirks a bit, "Do you know that your the greatest?" A tingle flies through you at the sensation of his hand gliding lower along your back. Until you catch it with your hand and quickly throw it off of you. "One. Time. Thing."

The man just chuckles at how you have to shove your face in your hands to hide the embarassed expression. Your just so cute, even when you try to act all though in battle.

"You know you don't have to be scared of me, I'd never treat you like I treat other women." He speaks out of no where, taking you fully by surprise. You didn't know that, nor did you believe it. He's met so many beautiful and kind women, granted most of them think he is a bit insane, but he still never takes any of them seriously. What in the world could make you different?

However, to Dazai there were a million little things that made you better than the rest. He loved the glint in your eyes you have during fights, excitement pouring through you as you slash your blades.

He loves the stoic face you use to seem unbothered, the way you'll never admit to being shy or vulnerable. Even the little stutter you developed when your uncomfortable, or stressed. It frustrates the hell out you, but he thinks it's a beautiful reminder that even though you are perfect, you are human.

"What? You're saying you would love me better than all the other women you've been with? Do you even remember their names?" You raise your brows, trying to act confident.

"I loved tea more than I loved those women, and I'm honestly a coffee guy, y/n."

"So your saying it's actually an insult to them..not a compliment to me." You deadpan.

He widens his eyes, "no I love you way more!"

Now that takes you by surprise, because, yeah you've known Dazai for a long time, but never have you ever heard him say that he loves you.You haven't heard him say he loved anyone.

Yes, you loved him, but it was always the kind of love you pretend is platonic, for his safety, and yours. It was never supposed to be reciprocated. Nor expected to be so.

With your silence and awestruck expression, though, Dazai realized that he had actually said it out loud. The L word, to you, HIS GIRL, whatever that means.

He was freaking out inside wondering what on earth could be going on up in that head of yours. Until a smirk grew on your lips.

"You love me more than coffee?"

And he didn't even laugh, because he was serious about coffee, but more serious about you.

"I love you more than coffee." When he says it out loud though, you let a out a little gasp. Dazai really likes coffee, you know.

"Oh...haha, tch, cool." You play off the excitement bubbling inside of you.

Dazai simply laughs, and reaches his hand to your thigh, trailing up slowly as he whispers. "Dont act to tough, y/n, im sure I can easy wipe that look off your face~"

"I-i think we should go to dinner first."

His hand finally reaches the line of your panties and snaps em against you, "I have a better idea for dinner."

#anime #mha fanfiction #aot anime #fanfic #mha bakugou #mha fluff #mha todoroki #smut #bsd spoilers #bsd chuuya #bsd fyodor #bsd #bsd dazai #bsd icons #dazai #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai fluff #dazai smut

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duckugou · 3 years

Text

golden

Kenma x GN!reader

Im trying to stray away from my comfort zone of just writing readers that use she/her so bear with me

sorry if this lowkey sucks but it was inspired by harry styles song golden

cw: big cursing, huge fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, aged up!

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in!

Requests are open!!

-------------------------------------

Being a streamer comes with perks. Being comfy at home, not having to face people in real life every day, playing games, typical shit. Another perk is making good friends.

Meeting people on a voice chat is common for Kenma -guys and gals alike. What he wasnt expecting one night was the sweetest voice on the other end of his headphones.

"You're all fucks- I'm better at this game than all of you combined. Try me."

To think that was the sentence that made Kenma's ears perk up and burn.

"What the hell ever- we have the great Kodzuken on our side." One of the guys said, half joking half dead serious.

"Oh yeah, he isn't even speaking up to defend your pussy asses- probably knows I could beat him too." You could hear the smirk in that last part.

"U-uh, no. You can't beat me. Nobody can actually. Not at this game." Kenma rebutted , confident in his gaming skills but not so much his speaking skills to this stranger.

"Oh man, you certainly sound confident. Come on, Kodzuken- 1v1 me then. Show me who the best really is."

Kenma suddenly felt nervous. Should he really demolish this stranger? Isn't it polite to let the person you like win? He didn't like this person yet but god their voice was attractive.

"Fine. Send the request." He decided.

"Sent, fucker."

The game resulted in a tie because this stranger actually knew what they were doing. They both threw friendly insults at each other the whole time of course, making each of them laugh a little.

"Okay fine. The great Kodzuken himself almost beat me. Im almost honored to have a great streamer almost beat me."

"Well you almost beat me too- uh-" Kenma stuttered over the fact that he didn't know how to address this stranger.

"Oh! Call me Y/n." The person giggled.

"You can uh, call me Kenma."

"Oh you don't want me to repeat your title over and over like everyone else?" They laughed.

"No, friends don't call me that. They use my name name." His ears were burning.

"Friends, huh? Guess that means you owe me your number so we can schedule a rematch where I can properly beat your ass."

"Huh, guess so."

A few months had gone by and Y/n and Kenma were as close as they could be. They found out they live close by each other and began hanging out a lot.

Y/n would be in the back of his streams on occasion and wouldn't hesitate to speak up during them. Thats the thing about Y/n. They've always been so outspoken. Since the start. Everything they talk about comes so easy to Y/n. Nothing is held back. Kenma knows everything about them. He on the other hand is still a bit closed off. Quiet. The two are so opposite yet so alike. Kenma doesn't speak much about himself, opting to listen.

Especially when talking about past relationships.

One night, they were sat in Kenmas room in separate chairs, letting conversations flow.

"So, you've dated but why have the relationships ended?" Y/n asked.

"Ah, I dont know- its not important. Why did yours end?" Kenma flipped the question as he always does.

"One guy cheated," Y/n tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, missing their mouth and brushing it off. "One girl left because she was leaving for school, and one guy just didn't mesh with me. Your turn." Y/n pushed the question back.

"Uh- well. I don't click with people easily. I'm pretty closed off so when I date it usually ends in hurt feelings by accident or they get sick of me." Kenma finally admitted.

"Huh." Y/n flopped onto their stomach on the bed after setting down the popcorn. "Don't you like anyone though? Like- if you liked someone enough, do you think you would give opening up a shot?"

"I mean I guess. Nobody ever takes the time to...pry me open." That got a laugh out of Y/n. Good. "But yeah I do like someone."

Sitting up suddenly, Y/n became visibly excited.

"TELL ME WHO."

"No god no- it isnt important." Kenmas ears burned again.

"Come onnnnn. Its gotta be someone big time cool to earn your heart. I have to approve."

Y/n pulled Kenma from his chair to the bed, not letting go of his hand as he sat down.

"Theyre very cool- and very sweet. Understanding. Someone who stands up for me and makes me comfortable-" Kenma began gushing.

"Do I know them?" Y/n interrupted.

"Y-yeah. You sure do." Kenma scratched the back of his neck.

"Oooh ok, a guessing game. Describe them more- their looks!" Y/n held his hand tighter, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Well- ok." Kenma took a deep breath and decided he could be vague enough. "Theyre short. As short if not shorter than me. Competitive. Very cute smile-"

"TOO VAGUE give me the JUICY DETAILS" Y/n pushed.

"They uh- they have..pretty eyes." He was staring at this point, eyes wandering around Y/ns face to find more things to describe. "cute nose too I guess. Squishy cheeks. Glasse-"

"WHO THE HELL IS IT KENMA- its starting to sound like youre describing me." Y/n laughed.

"No- I'm totally not!" Kenma rushed.

"Tell this person you like them. You look so happy when you talk about them. Its kind of sickening."

"I can't just do that." Kenma stated flatly.

"Yeah you can."

"No-"

"DO ITTTT. Nothing to be scared of- it's CUTE. They would be dumb to not like you."

Kenma sighed, knowing he couldn't tell Y/n the truth about who he liked. What does he usually do when he's put in a corner like this? Oh thats right-

"Who do you like then Y/n?" He asked, proud of himself for deflecting again.

"Oh thats easy. You." Y/n said, letting go of his hand and laying back on the bed, leaving Kenma sitting up and stunned.

"What? No I mean a crush idiot. Who do you liiikkkeee?" Kenma pushed, hoping he didn't hear Y/n wrong.

"You, Kenma. I've had a crush since our first tie in a game. Thought that was obvious-"

Kenma flopped back on the bed as well. The both of them looking at each other.

"Oh. My person is uh... really... open and honest." Kenma said quietly.

"Is that why you wont tell them?" Y/n asked just as hushed.

"Yeah... what if right now they say yes but then their feelings change one day? That would hurt so bad. Worse than not telling them ever." He whispered.

There was silence. They knew what they both just admitted. Kenmas heart started racing. This might've fucked everything up. He might lose them. But they like him too so why is he so scared?

Y/n held his hand again.

"I know that youre scared because I'm so open...but hey... If you wanna give it a try..." Y/n whispered, scared about whether or not their honesty fucked them over.

"You might be right this time Y/n." Kenma whispered.

The space between them was closed due to both of them being drawn together like magnets in that moment. A sweet kiss.

"Let's try it then. I'll work on... being more open if you'd like." Kenma said.

"Kenma. I dont want you to change one bit. I like you the way you are."

Acceptance. It was the best thing Kenma has ever felt.

#kenma #kenma fic #kenma fluff #kenma gamer #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #haikyuu fluff #harry styles golden lyric AHHHH

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fucktheroyals · 3 years

Text

You know after reading and reading and reading peoples theories and the meta from before the spn finale aired and the meta writers reactions to the finale I think I have a theory of my own. We don't have any answers tho, so this is pure speculation. If you wanna add something to support or discredit any of this that's cool but there's too many things floating around. Know I dont have proof for this conclusion at all. A lot of what I say is just guesses based on previous facts.

This all came together in my head when I realized how much this finale REEKS of the original producers and who the show was originally for. It REEKS of Robert Singer. Like if the execs started saying they didn't want it, Robert Singer was the one pushing that the story was about the brothers. That kinda thing.

Then, I was thinking of the problems in this episode and it struck me these are all of Supernatural biggest issues and to be honest all of it feels completely deliberate.

Take the sexism for example, Supernatural in it's later seasons largely out grew this, we have Jody, Rowena, Donna, Charlie, Mary, Claire (and even a wayward sisters pilot with MORE women/girls) all making regular appearances. They're mainly good characters and mostly aren't there to hurt our boys. Rowena, of course, is the one outlier being very about herself but it's clear she still cares for them, I mean its part of her development. But they're all real, with character flaws just like everyone else. (And we have Death too and she was POC 😭 THANK GOD)

Now look at the earlier half of Spn, we have Ellen and Jo, who's appearances were far in between. There's Bela in season 3, recurring for quite a bit (5 eps), but she is a character that is only there for herself, definitely not found family (unlike Ellen & Jo), and she's got more episodes in season 3 than Ellen and Jo in season 2 who aren't seen again til season 5. The "fans" send in hate mail after hate mail to try to get these characters off, and eventually they are. Then there's Ruby who's character stayed for a whole two seasons and was a largely recurring character. Why does she get to say so long? She's a plot device. She's supposed to be there to betray Sam. She has to stay (plus Jared obviously likes her). But she's not just a character the writers like writing about. Same with Lilith. Obviously not as recurring but still a plot device. Did they get hate mail tho? You can bet on it. Why? because tHeY'rE gOnNa PuSh ThE bOyS (Dean and Sam) aPaRt ThE sHoW iS aBoUt ThE bOyS oNlY. Without even thinking about the hate mail, just notice how large the difference is from how women are seen in the earlier seasons to the later seasons. Misha got tons of hate mail too for being a character that could split up the boys (probably only being allowed to say because he a man, thanks sexist producers and execs).

Only after Castiel was killed off and then Castiel fans successfully (thank you guys) got him back on the show did the hate mail largely simmer, which means female character's were allowed to stay! Which has lead us to a show with a good amount of female characters. But can you imagine having to kill characters off time and time again because people keep complaining that the show is "only about the boys." Fun times really.

So now we get to this final and we see sexism. But it wasn't just the plain old regular sexism you find in the earlier days of spn. Because now, there ARE women to talk about, talk to. But this episode was DESOLATE women wise, unless they were used for plot (which is also sexist!). Small scenes, they're barely there. Women gets her tongue cut out. Random women from s1 gets killed. Sam doesn't SPEAK of Eileen. Nothing. No mention of any female characters from the boys mouths unless they were from/in this episode itself. That's WIERD. I know we've all said it. But that goes beyond forgetting about characters. I mean its SAM'S GIRLFRIEND for Christ's sake. There is NO REASON they couldn't have said Eileen's name. Notice how Sam's wife is just... faceless. This is literally an age old sexist trope. Like... one of the things about bringing Mary back to life for s12+ is that it takes this trope... of basically a generic mother, and gives her life and feelings, whether you like them or not, they're real feelings. They said Mary isn't just a mom she's a person. Mary's existence in the later half of spn is to fix this kind of female tropes that fall upon her character, to not let these her stay a 2 dimensional character. They said we should know she's more than just the mom who tried to save her kid. Do that is the exact opposite of Sam getting a nameless, faceless wife. The sexism of the old spn wasn't just brought back, it was completely amplified. It wasn't just accidental or some exec "fixing" the story it was DELIBRATE. Whoever wrote that, didn't do ALL OF THAT by accident. Because an exec or a producer who doesn't see the flaws in old supernatural isn't going to write it that deliberately.

Let's bring it back to s10 when Charlie was killed (singer was mainly to blame). Dead in the bathtub, age old classic of burying ur gays. If you were here you know people never let Supernatural live that down. THEY KNOW what bury ur gays means. Hell, Robbie Thompson left because of Charlie's death and you think the writers don't know what it means? I mean both Bobo Berens (especially) and Steve Yockey's careers are centered around LGBT+ storytelling and you think they don't know? They know. They know.

And Dean wasn't just apart of the bury your gays trope, it is so far BEYOND that. Dean being killed on a rusty nail/screw, the tongues ripped out, things that seemed to be meant for other people. Jensen's acting in the last two episodes was giving us "DEAN RECIPROCATES" but no one ever actually saying it. I think it's clear that Dean was killed for being Bi. They didn't address it for a reason, they just silenced him. His narrative was supposed to be about letting him be HIM for the first time, to say what his feelings are instead of having them miscommunicated, and instead of doing that, they just silenced him. And the more we look at this scene the more horrific it gets. The more it's a complete slap in the face and it's supposed to be. Some guy who knows nothing about the LGBT can't write a scene this horrific.

Some guy who knows nothing about Dean couldn't write a scene that deconstructs all of Dean's character development and gives Dean his worst nightmare. I MEAN DEAN WANTED TO LIVE HIS LIFE! THEY DIDNT HIDE THAT JOB APPLICATION (or whatever job related thing that was) IN THERE FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES THEY WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST SITUATION. Dean isn't Barney from HIMYM. If you watched HIMYM then you'll know Barney went from being a stereotypical ladies man and treating women terribly to being in love with a women and treating her right and working hard for it. The last episode of HIMYM (why its so bad) Barney's character development is thrown out and he's back to being a stereotypical ladies man. You don't need to know Barney's character very much to do that.

To kill Dean during a hunt his father never finished, to not have anyone at his funeral, to have Dean die young like his life didn't matter. Those are Dean's worst fears and you'd only truly know that if you watched the gin episode in s3, where they are basically laid out for you. You HAVE to know Dean's character to tear him apart like this.

This episode took all the core elements of the show and did a complete 180° the name of the episode itself is "Carry on" and Dean and Sam very much did not carry on. Sam grieving his entire life so that he good get to heaven and see Dean again. Dean being ready to live his life, despite the enormous pitfalls and learning to love himself only to be killed. "Family don't end with blood." Um.... it did in that episode either literally with Dean's death or you know BECAUSE NONE OF THEIR FOUND FAMILY WAS THERE. Not Jack, Not Cas, Not Eileen, Not Donna, Not Charlie, Not Jody, Not Claire... on and on we go. No one was there, nobody was even mentioned. Dean's funeral, no one even called that we know of. It was just Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean. And Bobby. Don't forget Bobby. But yeah Sam and Dean.

That's what the show is about right, the brothers.

Except it's not anymore. It hasn't been for years.

Cas not being there was deafening but it brought us to a major point. Becky. Becky's telling us about the terrible ending.

And many of us are wondering why would they literally tell us this is the worst ending and then... make it the ending.

Now before we move on, it very apparent many of you think Dabb doesn't ship Deancas. And Dabb doesn't care about the characters.

Say what you will about any plot holes in his writing, the point he is VERY GOOD at writing the characters, and giving us good ones.

Why do we know Dabb ships Deancas? (ill say when its cowrote, other wise its not) cowrote ep 8.02 - purgatory "I prayed to you, Cas, every night" "Cas, Buddy, I need you." "I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you." 8.08 Hunteri Heroici - Cas helps them hunt! 😊❤ Dean & Cas have a serious convo about why Cas doesn't want to see/go to heaven. 8.22 Dean's mad at Cas. Sam's explanation of why Dean should be easy on Cas: "It's Cas." Dean then points out how he'd knife anybody else if they did what Cas did. 9.10 - Cas comforts Dean when Dean can't take seeing Sam (Gadreel) being tortured anymore. Also tons of Cas. 9.20 (bloodlines) - Canonical couple parallel "I was there, where were you" 9.22 The angels make Cas choose between them and killing Dean and he "gave up an entire army for one guy" 10.09 Claire's reintroduction. Cas heavy ep. DeanCas date. 10.22 THE PRISONER - u know the ep where Dean beats the shit out of Cas but loves him enough to not kill him.

We COULD keep going but I think I've made my point. If Robert Singer is the guy that is like "the show is about Sam and Dean only" Andrew Dabb is the DeanCas shipper. And you could even say a Cas stan.

Notice! How in s13 for SEVEN episodes we have a story that revolves around Dean's grief about losing Cas. Notice! How often the stories in all these seasons have a focus on their relationship. THAT is Andrew Dabb. If it weren't for him doing that, we wouldn't be able to easily say after Dean's lack of a response to Cas' confession, that Dean reciprocates.

To me, when I was (binge) watching s12 for the first time, I thought damn this is really got a lot of DeanCas. So I went to look at who was in charge, who was writing. I saw Andrew Dabb, associated him with Deancas episodes, saw all the new writers, Bobo, and then I saw that Yockey is known for same sex stories and it clicked. Dabb assembled a team to give us Destiel. THAT WAS IN SEASON 12!!!!!!!!

The amount of people saying he's homophobic flabbergast me. Open your eyes! That isn't what's going on.

Imagine making a show and trying to right all the wrongs of Supernatural. Imagine trying to write the greatest love story ever told and you have the entire season planned out for it to end off beautifully, it may possibly be your greatest achievement when it's done and then boom. someone comes in and tells you you aren't allowed to make Dean bi or make destiel endgame, after he was most probably already given the go ahead.

Sure. You could imply he's bi or into cas still in a way. Still make nice-ish ending. just give everyone what the kinda want.

Or you could scrap the last season, nothing close to a canonical bisexual Dean Winchester or Deancas endgame in site. People can be done with it be happy with the show, continue to live their lives in ignorance as to how close they were to Canon destiel.

OR you can lead everyone to the very closest you can get them to what you were aiming for and then show everyone the ugly truth and reality. Light it all on fire. Burn the show to the ground in your wake. Try your darnedest to making these people's (the people saying no) pockets suffer. Show us, the audience, what happened. Show us what this show really is.

I've seen people talk about the ending being changed during covid but I dont think that happened. I think what happened was Dabb already had this season planned out before it even started. Obviously the details were wobbly but it was all lead up to this ending. Destiel endgame, Canon Bisexual Dean, whatever it was. They were ready to write the greatest love story ever told and then someone shut it down.

Imagine the pain that must have caused them to be told no when they already said yes. They must have been so excited to give this to us.

I think someone (some producers) told him what this show is "really" about. The brothers. Can you imagine, after being told no, some kinda bullshit like this is said to you: "Why aren't you bringing it back to the brothers, Andrew? that's what the shows about. What with all this homosexual stuff, you know the audience won't like that. Not really." Imagine the original producers pushing this kind of view on you. "You know when we started it was Sam and Dean. It should end with Sam and Dean." That kinda sounds like someone huh? huh.

So why give us a nice acceptable finale, when you can take every problem Supernatural's had either up front or behind the scenes and create a finale so incredibly bad that people don't want to watch it anymore.

Someone made a good point about how Sam was originally supposed to be the main focus (this isn't to put any hate on Sam or Jared). Dean and Sam are the main characters but Sam was supposed to be the focus and for Dean to have become the focus, must have annoyed the producers because... well here we are. They wouldn't listen to Jensen. The producers liked this ending. Jensen's opinion didn't matter to them.

In some ways, if this is really what happened, it can be seen as childish from Dabb. To hurt all of us like that. Yes, he's hurting the producers, the execs, the cw. But to hurt us? Yeah it stings.

But in other ways, if this is really what happened, this is Dabb showing us the muck and gunk under the shiny surface. The hate for Misha. The hidden hate for Jensen. The underlying sexism. The underlying homophobia. The people REALLY in charge don't care about us, they just want our money. He needed to open our eyes and free us, at least free the people that he was writing for. The people he sees that care about this show.

This is the ending the powers that be wanted and its a big fuck you for a reason. I dont think this is Dabb spitting in our faces for loving this show, I think this is him trying to get revenge for us.

But from here, you can see it how u want it. If this is really what happened, I'm not in charge of your emotions, if you wanna be mad be mad if you wanna be grateful be grateful. And you don't have to believe me either I said this is speculation.

Also, as for all of the rumors like there being shots to the confession scene that we didn't see, which Jensen himself implied, I think that might have been a last ditch effort to canonized DeanCas but obviously it was cut. Like the name change was pretty clear. As for Misha possibly having shot some stuff for 20 I dont know what to tell you. If it's true I dont know where the blame would lie.

I do think however, that if all this was the case, the writers were prepared to become villians here. I mean they told us the writers were villians with Chuck right? So. Who knows what went down so they could give us such a vile ending. It could've been the producers or the writers, who truly knows. I do think tho that people we "trust" did some pretty shitty things to push the narrative in certain directions so now one would see this as the actual ending that was coming.

So again do with my SPECULATION what you will. This was in no way meant to put Dabb on a pedestal or anything. Just meant to give a bit of perspective.

(Also Jensen didn't unfollow Dabb recently he was already unfollowed for years)

#15x20 wank #spn finale wank #spn finale meta #15x20 meta #Andrew Dabb #spn #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #misha collins #jensen ackles #long post #sorry im on mobile #this is the longest post i have ever writen

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writerofshit · 3 years

Text

(I mentioned briefly a story of how the Stream Team met. This is that story.)

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the late night hours of a Tuesday, a convenience store is robbed. So is one several blocks southeast. And one roughly in the middle of them both. After all, what's more convenient than 24 hour chili dogs on every other street corner?

Cash. Cash is more convenient. So are guns. Hollering, waving one to get the other. Most important, back alleys that twist and turn, snaking away from increasingly distant sirens. Three individuals find themselves running through these alleys, a couple grand each weighing their pockets down.

It's through serendipity and convenience that their paths cross.

The man from the farthest store arrives first. He's done this a few more times than he'd like to admit, so he'd had a plan. Of sorts. Cut through the park, take a few sidewalks like an upstanding citizen, under the bridge and find a fire escape to utilize from there. There aren't any that reach the ground, of course, because he's smart but not quite enough.

And so this is why Trevor is standing in an dark alley, contemplating whether or not the dumpster will give him enough height to reach the ladder, when the man from the middle store appears. He's around Trevor's height, but would probably win in a fight between them, if he were so inclined. He doesn't seem to be, though. He seems shaken, like he's not quite sure how he ended up in this alley. He's holding a gun almost gingerly, as if it might bite him.

Trevor pulls his own gun.

'dont you fuckin' try anything!'

This does not go over well with Matt. He takes a step back, and then seems to remember that he also has a gun so maybe this is even footing. He holds it aloft, finger nowhere near the trigger.

'same, asshole!'

At this moment the robber from the first store arrives, also, of course, with a gun. And a mask. And an entire purple and orange neon fucking suit, actually, topped with a white cowboy hat. It gives them a few extra inches of height they are distinctly lacking, comparatively. Somewhere in the back of his head, Trevor acknowledges that this newcomer could probably kick his and the other gunman's asses. It is not a pleasant thought.

'oh, what the fuck!?'

Jeremy sounds more annoyed and less scared than one would think, considering they've run into an alley only to find two men with guns. Two men who quickly turn those guns on them.

'who the fuck are you?'

The question surprises them all, including Matt, even though he's the one who asked. As it turns out, people have a tendency to say the first thing that comes to mind when in a stressful situation. Such as, having robbed a convenience store for the very first time and immediately finding himself face to face with other apparent robbers. It would get to anyone, probably.

'i don't want any trouble, but i've already robbed someone tonight and i don't give a shit about felony murder!'

Two lies and a truth, is what Trevor has chosen to play, for some reason. In reality, one does not rob a convenience store at gun point if one is intent on staying out of trouble. And he does, in fact, care very deeply about felony murder. Felony murder is the precise reason he'd shot a bag of Doritos and not a clerk. In his defense, the clerk had initially rolled her eyes at him, asked what exactly he thought he'd get out of this. He'd found this question rude.

The truth, of course, is that he did rob a convenience store. That did happen. No take backs.

'so did i!'

Matt and Jeremy speak so in unison it's almost scary. If they didn't know any better, they'd think the two of them had always known each other.

Trevor's gun wavers between them, unsure which is the bigger threat. The guy who clearly has zero experience with guns, or the weirdo who seems to have far too much? It's a toss up, really. So his aim pinballs back and forth, but his finger does not curl around the trigger. He's serious about that felony murder thing.

The air seems to shift, suddenly, and the sound of sirens is now growing closer. This evidently also annoys Jeremy, and they throw a glance over their shoulder to the direction they'd come from. Red and blue lights flicker past.

'shit. ok. we're all robbers, i guess, and we're all fucked if we keep standing here. who's got a plan?'

Jeremy's eyes are staring impatiently at Trevor. Eyes being the only part of their face Trevor can see. And their hands, a plastic bag in one and a gun in the other.

Trigger finger is an apt name.

He glances at Matt, still wild eyed and glancing back and forth. No, Matt probably does not have a plan. He sort of gives the impression that he's never had a plan ever, actually. That perhaps he'd simply woken up here and decided to wing it. So Trevor makes an offer.

'fire escape?'

There's another moment of tense silence. Well, minus the sirens. And oh, helicopters. Even better. Jeremy shrugs.

'good a plan as any.'

And then they're off, brushing past Trevor and hoisting themself up onto the dumpster. He knew it could work. Trevor blinks and Jeremy has caught the ladder, is quickly working their way up. Shit, how does five foot something manage to get that high on a good day, much less in this situation and with a bag and gun in hand?

Matt's gun clatters to the ground, and honestly, that's probably for the best. He's climbing onto the dumpster now, and he mutters something about not signing up for this shit. Trevor reminds him that he apparently robbed someone, so yeah, he kind of did.

Before Trevor climbs up, he shoves his gun into his jacket pocket. Smart? Probably not. Convenient? More so than climbing with a gun in his hand. He follows Matt up the ladder, wondering what happened to his plan. Yeah, the ladder had been involved. Two other people, however, were not.

Above them, glass shatters.

'warning, maybe!?'

'oops. careful, there's glass.'

Jeremy's voice is no longer directly above them. Instead, it comes from one story up and a little to the left. So they've broken into an apartment. Sure, add breaking and entering to the list of charges, that sounds great. But Matt and Trevor follow, because there's not really another option.

Inside the apartment, Jeremy's mask is gone. The suit is quickly disappearing as well, revealing a rather boring outfit of a white tank top and...sweatpants? The true mystery lies in where the cowboy hat has gone to, because that's a hard item to miss.

'do we really have time for this? don't you think someone might, oh, i don't know, wake up and call the cops?'

Trevor doesn't mean to hiss, it's just that he's sure there's more pressing matters to attend to than an outfit change. Continuing to flee, perhaps.

'nobody's gonna wake up.'

They don't even have the wherewithal to lower their voice. It registers to Trevor that Jeremy's bag and gun are missing as well. Had they dropped them on the way up? It was certainly possible. Trevor thinks he would have noticed a gun flying past his head, but there's a lot going on.

'can we maybe not kill anyone? he brought up a good point with that felony murder thing.'

It's the most words Matt has strung together since he'd shown up. It's damn near a whisper, but at least it's progress.

'i'm not- god, can you two shut up? i gotta make a phone call.'

Jeremy yanks the door open, hand carefully wrapped in the fabric of their shirt. For a moment, Trevor thinks they're leaving and steps forward to follow Jeremy. Instead, Jeremy turns and heads toward the kitchen, pulling open a drawer and digging inside it briefly. They come back with a cell phone.

Something dawns on Trevor.

'is this- do you live here? did you break your own window?'

Jeremy doesn't answer. They put the phone to their ear.

'you're gonna wanna hide whatever you've got. and try not to look like you just climbed in through a window.'

And then-

'hello? yes, hi, i'd like to report a break in, i think? i was hearing a bunch of sirens and then i don't know what happened but some guy just broke my window? he ran through and i just- my friends and i are really scared and we didn't know what to do- yes, we're ok, he's gone, but we- you'll send someone? ok, thank you. the address? oh, uh, it's the del perro heights building, apartment 7. should i shut the door? no, don't touch anything. ok- guys, don't touch anything, she said someone's on their way to check on us! thank you so much- no, i think we'll be fine. thank you.'

It's a marvelous performance. Jeremy genuinely sounds like some poor flustered victim of a crime. Trevor would applaud if he thought Jeremy would appreciate it. Almost immediately, their voice is back to normal.

'check things out my ass. they're gonna show up, ask which way he went and never call me again. feel real fuckin safe.'

Jeremy settles themself onto the couch, choosing the spot closest to the door. Matt, who has apparently gotten over his initial terror, wanders into the kitchen. Searching for something to distract himself, if Trevor had to guess. Trevor is still standing in the middle of the living room, dumbfounded. How did a simple robbery become hanging out with other robbers, waiting for cops to show up?

'i'm jeremy, by the way. they won't ask, but y'know. just in case.'

They're flipping channels on the tv, seeming to arbitrarily skip almost a dozen programs. Finally, they settle on one and stand. Trevor recognizes it as an old Disney movie, and desperately wants to ask why the fuck Jeremy has put this on.

'uh, hi. i'm trevor. why are we watching Mulan?'

'matt. oh hell yeah, i love this movie!'

He sounds remarkably cheerful, considering the circumstances. How Trevor had seemingly switched places with Anxious McGee is beyond him. He needs to get it together. He pulls his gun from his pocket and takes it to the kitchen, sticking it in the drawer Jeremy had taken the phone from. There are several other phones of varying price point. He steps back to the living room just in time.

'that's why.'

They don't elaborate. Apparently Trevor is meant to just figure this out on his own, which ordinarily he might be able to do. After the course of events of this particular evening? Not a chance.

But he can't ask, because now there's a cop in the doorway and he's staring at Trevor and that will never be a good thing. Trevor stares back. He has no clue what he's meant to say. Hello? Welcome? He went that way?

'oh thank god! we've been so terrified, we didn't know if he'd come back or what he'd do.'

Naturally, Jeremy has taken lead on this. They're a phenomenal actor, Trevor has to admit.

'did you see which direction he went?'

'toward the stairs, i think. we've all been rooted to the spot, you know, it's so scary-'

Matt freezes in the doorway of the kitchen. He's just out of the view from the front door.

'right, well. you boys did the right thing by calling. can you give me a description of the man?'

The corner of Jeremy's mouth quirks.

'gosh, it all just happened so fast. taller than me, probably, but shorter than you, wouldn't you say, trey?'

Trevor nods, because he's not quite sure what else to do.

'alright, thank you. someone will be in touch with you for an official statement. in the meantime, if you remember anything else don't hesitate to call.'

He's holding a card out to Trevor, of all people. He takes it carefully, like if he does it wrong somehow the guy will know and arrest them all. The card is simply the number for a tip line.

As suddenly as he'd arrived, the cop is gone and they're all breathing sighs of relief. Jeremy closes the door.

'you guys can stay for Mulan, if you want.'

So they do.

Trevor asks about why Mulan again, and Jeremy explains that they assume most people have seen it, could answer any questions about it if they came up. Perhaps, if LSPD officers were less incompetent, they would have. Although if that were the case, they wouldn't be LSPD officers at all.

Matt asks about the window, and Jeremy says yes, they did break their own window. Of course they'd had an actual plan when they'd entered the alley. They were always going to end up exactly here, give or take the extras. Asking for a plan was simply a test, determining the merit in bring them along. They'd passed.

Jeremy asks if they want to stay for Mulan II, which is apparently up next. They do.

Somewhere in Los Santos, in the early morning hours of a Wednesday, three convenience stores are recovering from three separate robberies. Right in the middle of them all, their respective robbers are sitting on a couch together, watching a straight to video children's film.

It is the beginning of something far greater than any of them can imagine.

#is this dumb? maybe. did i have way too much fun writing it? absolutely.#is this how any of this would go irl? god no. is it still fun? hell yeah.#fahc #fake ah crew #ks writes

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