Tumgik
#the content is so lacking that half of those didn’t even come up as tags
hahahaarson · 8 months
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Where is my top male reader moon knight content??? It’s so few and far between
I love how much Miguel O’Hara gets fucked by male readers but where is my Marc content?? Where is the Steven content????
At this point I may as well start writing again or else I’m never going to get my content.
tldr: I’m devastated.
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honeesucker · 1 year
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One -
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Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader
Word count:  3,331
Series Content Warnings: Little bit of a slow start... Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).
*Not proofread.
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Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t an undisciplined person in any way and anyone who had ever spent more than five minutes with the man would know it, back at UA his classmates knew it. His attitude and showmanship justifiable by his actions: hard work, determination to be the best at anything, unwavering confidence. So, it was no surprise that when he was presented with something that made him nervous, left him restless in bed having only gotten around five hours of solid sleep (unacceptable), that he dove head-first into internet research into hybrids, into the rescue facility itself – any reliable informative source Katsuki could get his hands on... he devoured all with a ravenous mind.  
He learned that there is a largely biological difference between hybrids and those with an animal quirk. He learned that there are hybrids of different biological levels – some he learned were bred or trained to lean more into their animal natures, while others acted similarly to those with animal quirks (largely human with animal likeness or simple qualities) – the bigger difference being they were still highly susceptible to the whims of their animal DNA (i.e., still driven by instinct, still at the mercy of their biological clocks as present in their hybrid DNA in regard to migratory urges, mating patterns... things of a more engrained nature). He knew now that something he needed to consider was what would be best for him – a hybrid that, like TetsuTetsu was fiercely like his hybrid side but if you didn’t notice the ears and tail at first would just mistake him for a high-strung human, or one that while appearing mostly human would be more aligned with their animal side internally – Katsuki decided he’d wait and see what was suggested at the meeting he had set for later in the evening at the rescue facility. He read up on the efforts of the facility and was nothing less than impressed by their work to rescue, rehabilitate and facilitate safe adoption for their hybrids, but also all of their compiled free resources to learn more about anything one could think of in regards to hybrids, as well as offering in-person classes to be exposed further to important topics and nuances of hybrid life and ownership – classes, Katsuki noted, he would have to take before being chosen to take home a hybrid.
The rest of the morning was a blur of Katsuki half in, half out of consciousness due to his lack of sleep. He moved around the house way too fatigued but managed to make a simple stir-fry in the morning just to get something into his body, and later giving in to his needs and taking a two-hour nap before waking up to shower, and get ready for the first meeting at the rescue facility to get the process started... and though he held a lot of uncertainty he was also looking forward to something like this – something that might help him not feel so alone. 
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Katsuki was just half-watching a street food documentary series when he heard his phone ping! with a message notification.  
3:37 P.M. [Shitty Hair] Hey dude! TetsuTetsu and I are on our way to pick you up... he wanted to come and see some of his friends.
3:39 P.M. [Blasty Boy] Whatever as long as the rockhead doesn’t drool on me.
3:45 P.M. [Shitty Hair] Awe are you wanting to make a good first impression Bakubro? So cute~
Katsuki slammed his phone down, a burning pink tinge to the tips of his ears as he grumbled to himself at the last message.  
He just didn’t want to look dirty for the interview.
Another hour had passed before Kirishima finally texted that he was down in front of Katsuki’s building waiting for him, which prompted the blonde to thumb through the folder he had with all the requested documents, glancing at each page for the fifth time again before deciding he hadn’t forgotten anything. He threw on a well-worn leather jacket over his casual outfit and stepped into his boots, taking a final look behind him before stuffing his wallet into his pocket where his phone already sat, and heading out the door with a final click of the automatic door lock.
In the elevator his body felt like a can of compressed air thrown into a fire – ready to burst – but he just took in slow breaths (agency sanctioned therapy) and as he reached the lobby and made his way out, he walked toward the dark sportscar that awaited him, seeing the back window rolled halfway down with TetsuTetsu’s excited face glancing around at the few people on the street until he saw Katsuki.
“Hey, heeeey! Bakugo!” TetsuTetsu was shouting out the window at the man’s approach and Bakugo simply rolled his eyes at the annoying display. Opening the door and sliding into the front passenger seat just as TetsuTetsu was shouting another round of greetings out the window at him.
“Shut up ya damn brick head!” Bakugo growled out, “don’t you have a damn shred of self-control?”
“Plenty!” TetsuTetsu replied, sitting back against the seat with an excited bounce, nearly jumping out of his skin to see Bakugo... even if he just saw him last week.
“Tch,” Bakugo scowled, but Kirishima picked up on the slight quirk to the corner of his friend's lips as he pulled the seatbelt across his chest. “Dumbass acting like he hasn’t seen me in years.”
“Ready to go, dude?” Kirishima beamed at his friends who only answered with a quiet grunt. The drive to the facility was about 45 minutes from Katsuki’s apartment, and he took notice of how the further they drove the scenery changed so drastically for such a short distance. Larger skyscrapers and bustling paved streets giving way to more rural, residential areas until he saw the large facility come into view. Katsuki had been in this area before but never noticed the expansive property even one time. It was partially hidden behind rows of trees, and there was a long, looping driveway to reach the front of the facility.  
“TetsuTetsu and I come here to volunteer a lot,” Kirishima finally broke the silence from the ride, “he likes to come and see some of his friends and socialize, and I help as an acting liaison since a lot of hero work does include rescuing hybrids either from disaster zones, or worse situations.”  
“I never knew that,” Katsuki added, though he had his share of hybrid rescue situations, he never once contemplated where they went after they were taken away – he wondered if they all came to a safe place like what was before him. “Also never knew that you had so much damn free time on your hands to come play around with puppies and shit...” Katsuki walked past the doors as they parted automatically, Kirishima laughed, walking behind him with a shit-eating grin knowing his friends was playing his emotions off cooler than he was feeling. Knowing what he knew of his friend, he was more nervous than anything and that made Kirishima hopeful for Bakugo’s recovery. Whatever that future held, he was certain, as he watched his friend’s back while he walked toward the center desk where a staff member was waiting to greet them, that he wouldn’t be alone and everything would be okay.  
Knowing Bakugo, he knew it wouldn’t be an easy process – but he could see the future becoming a brighter shade with each step.
“Ah, welcome back Red Riot!” The staff member beamed excitedly, “and welcome Mr. DynaMight!” She added, “and our little TetsuTetsu! Look how big you’ve gotten!” TetsuTetsu had a smile that took over his whole face as he puffed out his chest at the praise, allowing the woman to give a scratch at the top of his head between his tall ears.
“Alright Bakugo, you’re in good hands with Hina! TetsuTetsu and I are going to be in the common area, we’ll probably see you later once you’re given the tour. Text me if you need anything!” Kirishima was being dragged off by TetsuTetsu who was excitedly going on about who he wanted to see, his silver tail wagging so fast it blurred behind him. Hina got Bakugo’s attention, walking away to lead him toward the meeting room where he was going to be interviewed by the director, go over the paperwork and make copies of the documents he brought, thankful that this was all laid out in the call when he made the appointment – Bakugo liked to be as prepared as possible walking into new situations.
Hina had dismissed herself as she showed Bakugo where he could grab a snack or coffee, tea, water – she offered him everything even as he declined, certain anything that would go into him at this moment would come right back out. He was told the director was running a bit late but should be with him in about ten minutes. He was fine to have the room to himself to calm down, he could feel his palms slickening the more anxious he got and the last thing he wanted to do was blast the damn director with a handshake.
Maybe he did want that tea.
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Across the facility in the common room Kirishima was crowded by his normal little friends, excitedly saying hello and telling him about their recent activities since his last visit. His eyes scanned for TetsuTetsu he noticed was frozen to the spot where in stood just in the doorway that led out to the garden. He followed the hybrid’s gaze to a small puppy hybrid curled up underneath a tree bathed in speckled sunlight. Kirishima watched as TetsuTetsu walked out into the garden with tentative steps and saw the puppy hybrid’s wide eyes shoot up toward him.
What a beautiful little creature.
He took in how small you were compared to most other hybrids he’s met so far (aside from the very smallest types), noting that you would definitely only come up to just under his chest, similarly compared to Bakugo a few inches higher on him at the center of his chest - maybe. Your ears were tall points atop your head, and the large, fluffy tail behind you started to give slow thumps as you watched TetsuTetsu approach. Kirishima observed his hybrid sit and pull you into his lap, rubbing his cheek atop your head and watching as your body shook a little, light catching a glistening on your cheek just before it was thumbed away. You shook your head, palming away the tears before giving a beaming smile up at TetsuTetsu whose tail was wagging wildly looking down at you, but Kirishima could see it.
The way the smile didn’t reach your eyes.
He spent more time with the hybrids gathered in the common room, always keeping an eye on his hybrid and the new little companion. Kirishima was soon being pulled multiple ways by hybrids and staff alike to help where it was needed getting lost in the bustle of what normally came with spending time at the hybrid facility – work. It was a brief moment when his eyes darted back out into the garden where he didn’t see you or TetsuTetsu that Kirishima’s whole body went cold with nerves before he settled himself, knowing that even if you both wandered the place you were in was safe. He just always felt better having eyes on TetsuTetsu since he brought him home. It was when he heard a familiar laugh that he noticed you both sitting in front of a T.V. watching Pro Hero fights, TetsuTetsu exclaiming loudly at each incredible move, and you curled up into TetsuTetsu’s lap looking so contented just to share space with someone. Kirishima decided to walk over and introduce himself, but with the way he noticed your eyes always darting around, watching the way your body jumped – just slightly – at each louder than normal noise... he knew he had to approach you carefully than most.
“Hey buddy,” Kirishima called out, lowering his normal boisterous tone to a gentler level, “what’cha watching?”
“Ah Eijiro! Look, look, look!” TetsuTetsu almost threw you out of his lap if he didn’t have an arm hooked around your body holding you to him. “It’s an old Fourth Kind fight!” TetsuTetsu’s tail was whipping behind him with a furious thump seeing the fight. You were leant against his chest with your cheek squished by his shoulder as your eyes studied the huge red-headed Pro standing nearby. Kirishima gave you a bright smile but noticed the way your eyes widened, he wondered if it was the sharp teeth or just being noticed by someone new, he kept his eyes on you with a kind expression on his face as he got TetsuTetsu’s attention back, “Hey bud – who’s your little friend?”
“Ah!” TetsuTetsu tightened his grip on you as he turned his body slightly to show more of you. “This is Tiny!” Kirishima knelt down on the floor, squatting with his butt against his legs to be less of an impending sight to you.
“Tiny huh? Is that really your name?” Kirishima kept the smile on his face, kept his tone gentle and noticed the way you shook your head slowly, but then shrugged – TetsuTetsu popping back into the conversation with a quick, “I call her Tiny because she is! Also, because she said she didn’t have one...” TetsuTetsu trailed off, attention being piqued again by the Pro Hero fight on the T.V. but Kirishima and you were having a staring contest, your ears and cheeks dusted a light pink as you rested your chin on TetsuTetsu’s shoulder.  
“If it’s okay to ask,” Kirishima wanted to grab you from his hybrid and curl you up in his arms himself with how cute you looked at the moment, but knew he had to swallow down those feelings. “You don’t have a name?”
“Mm,” you shrugged, “not one I care to have.”
“Have you ever thought about choosing one for yourself?” Kirishima tested the waters, and it seemed you relaxed more around him now than when he first walked over, but you still stole tentative glances at TetsuTetsu for reassurance.
You slowly shook your head, “not really – not if everyone is gonna call me something different anyway.”
The way you said that made Kirishima’s blood turn, but he didn’t let it affect his interaction with you, opting to keep the smile and calm demeanor going, “What do you like to be called most?” Kirishima saw you falter for a moment, probably never having been asked that question before.
“I like when Tetsu calls me Tiny,” the warm smile lit up your face so beautifully, “and almost everyone else I know just calls me Puppy because... I’m a puppy, or really lots of other names too...” your voice got softer a trailed off at the end. Kirishima could see something brewing behind your eyes but didn’t push it further as you rubbed behind your neck a little nervously.
“Is it okay for me to call you eith-” Kirishima could get his full sentence out before you just grinned widely and nodded your head.  
“M’okay with anything if it isn’t mean,” you say softly, and Kirishima thinks his heart is going to explode.
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
Across the facility at the tail end of the interview Bakugo thought his heard was going to explode just the same.
“Well, Mr. Bakugo I’m thoroughly impressed with how you’ve answered my questions, and asked your own,” the facility director was thumbing through her own notes and the documents Bakugo had brought with him ensuring all was in order. “I’ve never had an adoption prospect be as informed and prepared as you’ve made yourself which is wholly impressive and says so much about how you’d go into owning a hybrid – truly impressed,” the woman was nodding and repeating herself but Bakugo wasn’t hearing a definitive yes to moving forward so he kept waiting with bated breath. “I’d like to take you for a tour of our facility and tell you more about our efforts, and what you can expect moving forward in this program, and we can meet some of the hybrids who are probably out wandering in the common room at this time as well.” Bakugo simply nodded in a daze, heart rate starting to slow back to a normal pace as he started to collect himself, following the director out of the meeting room and into a long stretch of hallway as she went on about the facilities history and all of what they offer for the hybrids in their care – all information Bakugo had read up on but hearing it as he toured the grounds was still enlightening.
Upon reaching a more open area that the director called the common room he took in the mild bustle of the room, hybrids of all types wandering, lounging and laughing with each other and staff alike.  
“So, this is our common area where a lot of the hybrids who are suited for group environments come to socialize and spend their time,” the director drew Bakugo’s attention to the gorgeous garden they had, as well as a small food garden run by some of the facilities bunny hybrids who also helped out in the kitchen – they were a little skittish but super still super kind to show Bakugo around their garden. He also met a few wolf hybrids like TetsuTetsu, a cougar, two cats and a koi fish hybrid lounging in a large, open clearwater pond on the far end of the garden but what really caught Bakugo’s attention was on the other side of the garden in a separate part of the common room – more hybrids were lounging around at tables, but in front of a T.V. where old Pro Hero fight tapes were playing he saw Kirishima’s too large body sunk into a bean bag chair with TetsuTetsu curled up against his side, with a smaller form squished between them, mostly on Kirishima’s chest, nuzzled into his neck.
“Oh - that’s a sight that makes me happy,” the director sighed, sharing the same sight Bakugo was taking in. “That’s our newest hybrid, though she originally came to us just a short while before TetsuTetsu did she was also adopted out shortly after Mr. Kirishima took our TetsuTetsu in, but she’s had a hard time being placed with the right person – she's been surrendered back to us three time in the last year – she's had a rough go of it but always ends up seeking out the right people it seems.” Bakugo was drawn in to the three sleeping forms, walking closer until he was just a foot or so away. TetsuTetsu was snuggled into Kirishima’s side, mouth hanging open with the drool of a deep sleep. Kirishima was snoring lightly and had a hand brought up to wrap around the smaller form laying atop him. When his eyes laid on you, a little puppy hybrid with soft ears, tall, little triangles even as you slept, a big fluffy tail and an unnerving amount of old healed scars on the exposed skin he could see. Your face looked so peaceful, lashes shadowing on your cheeks, eyebrows drawn together in your sleep as if your dream bothered you, even a little kick of your leg across Kirishima’s stomach as you shifted in your sleep.
Something in Bakugo reached out from inside of him, his mind or his heart he couldn’t tell the difference – all he knew was that this feeling was one he couldn’t easily shake. He didn’t know if it was because you just looked like you needed protecting, or because the director said you were returned three times and he’s never turned down a challenge, but Bakugo now had his mark set on you – you are who he wanted to know more about, to bring home and keep safe, and he would jump through any hoops to make that happen.
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Hello! :)
Don't know if your requests are open but if they are could you please do something for Judd Birch? There are zero fanfictions about him and they are very much needed after this season
I’m so so sorry this took me forever to get to.. thank you for being patient <3
Judd Birch x Jessi’s sister! Alt!Reader
Tags: she/her pronounced reader, how the hell do you write dialogue for hormone monsters..? This was hard. There’s a lot of just,, general hornyness lmao, you sorta have the same aesthetic/style as Judd, I wrote this at like 3 am I hope it’s readable
Authors note: how come there are literally no fics for Judd?? I’m sorry what?? I hope this makes up for the lack of Judd content out there
3,7K words
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Fic under cut!
So. You were totally too cool (or not cool enough) to hang out with the theatre kids from your school. To be honest, you didn’t even know they were holding a party until Jessi called you and drunkenly begged you to pick her up from her friend, Nick’s house. 
Walking into a party you weren't even invited to, full of people you didn’t even know was definitely not something you looked forward to. You only ended up going because you realised that in the end it was better than listening to your parents' tiresome fighting. They had been going at it the entire day, Jessi had camped out in your room and watched you play video games half the day until she got bored and announced she was going to her friends house. The damn fighting didn’t even help Jessi’s bat mitzvah, it was really just petty insults at this point.
Well, anyway, it wasn’t like they didn’t fight when they planned yours too. You could use a break from all the noise, and the short walk to the Birch house was a nice change of scenery. You exhaled as you stopped in front of the house, standing on the porch for a few moments before knocking. You definitely weren't looking forward to awkwardly explaining that you weren’t here to crash the party, but to pick up a drunk 12-year-old. Why did Leah even let her crash the party..?
“Uh, hi?” You smiled awkwardly at Leah, but before you had time to explain yourself she opened the door wider and pulled you inside. You got a facefull of blonde, strawberry smelling hair as she embraced you tightly. You stiffened at first, having to force yourself to relax as you awkwardly patted her on the back.
“Glaser..Glaser. uh. Uhm.. y/n?” She slurred as she let you go, keeping a hand on your shoulder for support. She was taller than you, but not by much you noticed. You had one class with her, but beyond borrowing her pencil a couple of times you had never talked to her. You only knew that she was Nick’s older sister and that she owned a lot of turquoise mechanical pencils. 
She suddenly gasped loudly. “You’re in my history class!” She exclaimed, a drunken smile on her face.
“I am.” You confirmed, grabbing onto both her shoulders to keep her upright. “Thank you, uh, for lending me all those pencils.” 
Leah giggled and shook her head. “No problem!” She suddenly leaned in, stopping only when her nose brushed your cheek. You stiffened again, a red tint blooming on your face and neck. “I’m really happy you came, be-because I really wanted to invite you, but I got so nervous.. Y’know because you look so cool and everything..” She trailed off, gently resting her head on your shoulder when she was done speaking. Just how much had she had to drink..?
Your face flushed at her words, at a loss for words you opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water. “I-I’m cool? You really think that?” Leah nodded against your shoulder before standing to her full height again.
Now it was Leah’s turn to blush, her eyes landed somewhere behind you and another goofy smile appeared on her face. You followed her gaze to.. Some guy in a beanie? You recognized him from school, but had never spoken to him before. He honestly seemed kinda douchey in your opinion. 
“Here, take this!” She pushed her drink into your hand, starting to move towards the beanie guy. You fumbled with the plastic cup for a moment before grabbing her hand. “Wait! Leah, actually I came here to pick up my sister. You know, Nick’s friend Jessi, right?” 
Leah looked at you with a blank expression, gears turning in her drunk brain. “Oh..Oh! Jessi, yeah. She was here just a moment ago.” 
“Ah, really? Did you see where she..” You didn't get to finish your sentence, Leah already long gone leaving you behind with the red plastic cup. You looked down into it, scrunching up your nose as the smell of cotton-candy invaded your senses. The thick, pink liquid seemed to almost be bubbling and you quickly sat the cup down on the nearest table. Gross.
You looked around the crowded living room, unable to spot your little sister. You breathed out a sigh, gently pushing people aside to get to the kitchen. Your eyes lit up when you finally spotted another familiar face. 
“Nick,” You walked up to him, and a girl he was clearly trying to flirt with. She gave you a look, obviously telling you you were interrupting something. “Uh..” You trailed off, noticing Nick was nearly as shit-faced as Leah. Seriously, who was letting Jessi and her 12-year-old friends drink..
“Have you seen Jessi?” You talked a bit slower, noticing he had trouble completely focusing. The girl he was talking to sighed. “No. I don’t think he has.” 
Jeez. You were only asking. “Thank you. I don’t think I caught your name? Are you also a friend of Jessi..?” You mustered up a fake smile as you spoke, fighting to keep the friendly expression on your face.
The girl didn’t get a chance to respond, before Nick grabbed onto your skirt and brought it to his nose. He inhaled deeply. “y-y/n, you smell so nice,” 
“Ew! Dude, what the hell. Drink some fucking water. Oh my god.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as you pushed Nick away from you, moving to the sink. “Where do you have glasses-” Suddenly, someone bumped into your side. Someone tall and rather muscular.
You let out a low ‘oomph’ sound, steadying yourself on the counter. When you looked up, you realised the offender was already looking down at you. You were about to say something just as you met a pair of green, unmoving eyes. The words dried out in your mouth when you took in his appearance, opening and closing your mouth like a fish on land.
Shit. He was hot. Like, really hot!
The dyed blue tips of his hair brushed softly over his cheekbones, falling over his eyes. His crooked nose looked so pretty in contrast to his otherwise sharp features, you were so distracted taking him in you didn’t even notice his prominent scowl until you saw the way his dark eyebrows were furrowed. 
For a moment you thought he was scowling at you, until you followed his line of sight and realised he was looking at Nick behind you.
‘Sniff him!’
You whirled around, just in time to see Connie appear behind the hot stranger. “Uh..uh.” You stammered, lacking a response for your hormone monstress. 
‘God.. ‘ Connie buried her nose at the nape of his neck and inhaled deeply. ‘He smells delicious..The boy musk will drive you mad! Huff it now!’
A deep blush spread across your face and neck. “Connie! Stop! I don't even know him.. What if he's, like, really weird.” You swatted your hand at her as you spoke, making her step away from the stranger and curl around you instead. 
‘C’mon baby, we both know you like weird..’ Connie purred in your ear, making your face impossibly redder. ‘Besides, my cute little baby lamb, you need to get your cherry popped!’ Your eyes almost bulged out of your eyes as she continued to whisper sultrily in your ear. 
“No! No, no, nope! We are not going there right now! I’m here to pick up Jessi!” You waved your hands in front of your face as Connie laughed wickedly. ‘Alright.. Alright! I’ll be back later. Make sure to get your little muffin buttered!’ She trailed off with a grin, leaving you even more embarrassed as she left the kitchen. 
“Fucking Move.” You were broken from your daze when the stranger spoke, he had a nice, deep voice you noticed. You quickly moved, making enough space for the boy to stand besides you. He opened the cabinets above your head, taking out a glass and roughly pushing it into your hand. 
His warm fingers brushed yours, making sure you had a good grip on the glass before letting go. “Uh- Thank you!” You stuttered when you finally regained your words, looking up and meeting his green eyes again.
He grunted in response, reaching behind the sink to grab a bottle of Jack Daniels before pushing past Nick, hitting both him and the girl in the head with the bottle in the process, and exciting the room. You shakily filled up the glass with water, before handing it to Nick who was staring at you wide eyed. The short haired girl was still there, looking annoyed as ever.
“Woah! I have never seen Judd talk to a stranger without making at least one threat..” He exclaimed. 
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Judd?” 
“My older brother! You’ll likely see his manifesto in the news someday,” Nick answered, making the girl next to him giggle.
“Oh.” You responded, not really sure what the appropriate reaction was. “Uh- Anyways. Have you.. Are you sure none of you saw Jessi around somewhere?” It annoyed you to no end how you couldn’t keep the shakiness out of your voice, even after Judd was long gone. 
Nick took a long sip of the water, before answering. “I-I think i saw her somewhere upstairs.. Or was it outside? Who cares! Let’s paaarteyyy!!” He ended his sentence making a fake deep voice that made you cringe just as hard as the girl next to him laughed.
“Sure. Thanks, Nick. Have fun.” You said with a tired expression, leaving the two younger teens behind to resume your search for Jessi. 
-
‘Do it! Do it! Do it!’
‘Go back to her!’
‘Drag her to your room and fuck her until your dick goes numb!’
Judd completely ignored Maury's insistent pleas, as the hormone monster followed behind him on the way to his room. 
‘Did you not see how into you she was?! … I bet she would let you touch her allllll over.’
Judd merely grunted in response, trying his best to keep his thoughts from going too far. Even if it was Maury’s plan to make that as difficult as possible. 
‘And how long has it been since you’ve had a good fuck? Hmm?’ Maury continued, taunting the teen. Judd’s grip on the Jack Daniel’s bottle tightened. “Last week. Leave me alone.” He rasped, making Maury let out a series of cruel laughs. ‘Oooh, but it wasn’t that good, was it? I bet she would be sooo muuuch better!’
Judd sighed, not bothering to answer Maury as he opened the door to his room and slammed it in the face of the hormone monster. 
-
Seriously, where the hell was Jessi? You had already checked each room of the house, but it couldn’t hurt to check again, right? This time, you started your search upstairs, carefully opening the doors to rooms that didn’t seem occupied. 
You stopped when you reached a peculiar door, covered up with ‘do not enter’ signs and scraps of yellow police tape. 
‘Oooh, this is Judd’s room.’
You jumped when Connie suddenly sneaked up on you, purring in your ear and playing with a strand of your dyed hair. ‘You should check his room.. Maybe Jessi’s inside. Or maybe, you could steal a couple of his shirts. Sniff them while you sleep! Roll around in them!’
You blushed, but waved your hand dismissively at her. “No way. That would be.. Really, really weird. Besides, Jessi wouldn’t be in there anyways.”
Connie hugged you from behind. ‘How would we know if we don’t check? .. Mmm. Get another huff of that boy smell! Ooh!’ She finished off her sentence with a sultry moan, hugging you closer to her warm body. 
“C-Connie-” You squealed, struggling to put some distance between you. “We’re not going in there. Let’s just check the rest of the rooms and leave-” You squeaked and jumped back a bit, when the door was suddenly thrown open. 
Connie giggled in delight as Judd stepped out of the room, eyes slightly widened in surprise as he looked down at you. “Why are you here?” He quickly overcame the surprise, getting right to the point. Although the question came off a bit callous, his tone was softer than it had been in the kitchen.
“I-Uh..” ‘Say something, girl! Let him know how much you love that sweet boy musk!’ Connie was shaking you, as you struggled to find something to say. “I’m looking for my sister, Jessie Glaser. She’s one of Nick’s friends. I don’t expect you to even know her-”
“Jessie. I know all Nick’s friends.” He caught you off, both you and Connie shivering from that delightfully deep voice of his. ‘Oooh! You could just melt from that sweet, husky voice.. Mmm..’
Connie dramatically staged a fainting, rolling around on the floor behind you. You smiled and shyly looked up, meeting his heavy gaze as his green eyes studied you intensely. You could see the ghost of a smirk on his pale lips as he noticed the way you fiddled nervously with your hands. “That’s great! I’m glad.. I mean- I’m not glad that you know Jessi, that would be weird. Er, well, I am. I mean, that means you might have seen her somewhere, which would be a great help- since, you know- I’m looking for her-” 
‘Girl! What the hell are you doing? Act cool!! Act cooler than you ever have before! Use your femenine charms, goddamnit!’ Connie was running around in circles, making wild hand gestures at you. 
You took a deep breath, looked at your shoes and stopped your rambling, not noticing how Judd was laughing quietly, an amused glint in his eyes. “Shit. I don’t know why I’m rambling. I’m so sorry,” You finally looked up at him again. “Hi, I’m y/n. I swear I’m not a creep, I just thought Jessi might be up here.” 
Connie smiled enthusiastically, giving you two thumbs up. ‘That’s it baby-cakes! Show him some confidence!’
“Judd.” He grunted his name in response, stepping slightly closer to you. “Jessi’s out in the backyard. C’mon, let me show you.” Your heart was in your throat when he gently grabbed your wrist, dragging you to the stairs.
‘Oh god! Oh god! Oh god! He’s touching you! Look at him man-handling you with his strong, rough hands. Aaah!’ Your face grew increasingly hotter as Connie continued her rant, lusting over Judd.
‘Hold his hand, baby! Hold it, like your life depends on it!!’ Well.. Your hand was pretty close to his, all you had to do was move your hand up a little and grab his. That couldn’t hurt, right?
Carefully, you shifted your hand out of his grasp and grabbed onto his big hand with yours. Your hand barely closed around three of his fingers, holding it delicately. Connie cheered and whooped behind you, yelling all sorts of horny phrases you blocked out to focus on Judd’s rough hand in yours. 
He stopped walking, almost causing you to bump into him. He turned his head to you with a surprised expression, mouth forming a pretty ‘o’ shape and eyebrows slightly risen. It was almost impossible to see a change in his stoic features, and if you hadn’t been studying his face just moments before you probably wouldn’t have been able to see the change either. Your face burned hot, and you immediately started to let go of his hand, afraid you might have overstepped boundaries. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry- I just thought that- Nevermind. I’ll let go.” 
“No. I don’t mind, your hands are.. Nice.” He quickly looked away from you again, grabbing your hand this time and continuing to drag you through the house.
‘God, baby-bug, look at his hands! They’re so big, his fingers are sooo looong! I bet they’d feel so good inside-‘ “Connie! Calm down, please! I got this,” You waved her off, causing her to break out into another fit of smug laughs. ‘Alright, alright! Atta girl! Call me when you're ready to get dicked down, love you baby’
You giggled as Connie disappeared from your line of sight and Judd dragged you into the crowded living room. People seemed to have gotten even drunker and hornier since you came to the house, and they were bumping into you left and right as you shoved your way through the living room. Judd’s hand tightened around yours, making all sorts of funny feelings erupt in your stomach. Momentarily distracted, you didn’t notice the guy about to slam into you, making you lose your balance. You shrieked, grabbing Judd’s hand tighter as you stumbled, getting ready for a painful fall to the ground. 
However, Judd was quick to react. Pulling you into him by your arm and holding you up by the waist to keep you steady, thumbs gently rubbing up and down your sides. Apparently Connie’s words had affected you more than you thought, because when you collided with his solid chest you had to stop yourself from drooling. For such a rough looking guy, he sure handled you carefully. “Be careful, numbnuts.” He growled, scowling in the direction of the guy who made you fall. You would have been more offended by the insult, had you not been extremely distracted by the way his jaw clenched and the rubbing motion of his fingers against your waist.
“Thank you, Judd.” You muttered, subconsciously nibbling on your bottom lip. He grunted in response and continued walking you through the house, holding you close to his warm body the whole time. 
By the time you reached the backyard, your face flushed and burned impossibly hot. Your hands had subtly migrated to Judd’s chest, pretending not to notice the way his muscles tensed under your touch. Connie would be very proud of you. 
“Oh! Oh.” Your mouth opened in surprise, hands covering your eyes as you saw Jessi heavily making out with some kid her age. You turned around in Judd’s grasp, burying your face in his chest to avoid the sight behind you. “Tsk. Fucking horny little assholes.” He frowned, stiffening a little at your sudden embrace. 
You quickly let go of him and stepped away, laughing awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as you thought of what to say or do next. “I’m sorry for all this trouble,” You started, scraping your shoes against the wood of the patio. “You probably didn’t wanna spend half the evening looking for some 12-year-old.” You apologised.
Judd rolled his eyes and leaned back on the railing. “I don't care, I’m glad you found your stupid sister though.” He scoffed. You hummed in response, just barely noticing the pink flush on his otherwise pale face. It looked endearing in contrast to his permanent murderous expression.
“Hey Judd?” You said, finding it hard to focus under his intense gaze. “What?” He mumbled, without missing a beat. 
“How come I haven’t seen you at school?” 
Judd huffed, finally looking away. “I’m busy. I don’t have time for fucking lousy ass classes, I have shit to do.” 
You crossed your arms over your chest. “Yeah? Like what?” 
Judd’s downturned lips broke into a grin. A genuine grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” He mused. “You seem pretty busy too, looking after your dumbass sister.”
“You should be nicer, you know,” You said, shifting your weight on your feet. “Besides, you can be busy and go to school, fuckface.” You ended the sentence with a grin, matching his own. He leaned closer to you, forcing you to inhale another big cloud of his very lovely smell.
‘Mmm, baby-girl, you’ve got this flirting down!’ Connie appeared behind you, purring praises at you. ‘Just lean in a liiiitle further, feel his hot breath on your face girl, feel it!’ You waved your hand at Connie, making her pull a smug expression as she backed away to enjoy the show. 
“Fuckface, huh?” His grin turned wolfish as he placed a hand on the wall behind your head. “For a pretty girl, I don’t think you’re very nice.” You looked up at him stunned, as he threw your previous words back at you. Pretty girl..?
‘HE THINKS YOU’RE PRETTY! GO DOWN ON HIM! HURYY BABY!’ Connie was shaking you back and forth in excitement, pulling your head out of the clouds and back to reality. You gently pushed Connie away again, focusing on the lingering scent of wood chips and cigarettes that clung to Judd. ‘Alright alright, I’ll let you do your thing, angel-cake.’ Connie said, stepping away again. 
“You really think I’m pretty?” You asked, another deep flush overtaking your face. Judd scowled and looked away, brows furrowing in a way that had your knees buckling. “No.” He grunted. 
You rolled your eyes, looking at him from under your lashes. “Alright then, pussy.” 
He turned his head to look at you again, expression unreadable as his green eyes darkened. Your heartbeat picked up at an alarming rate, your body subconsciously leaning closer to him as he leaned down, brushing his nose against yours. His breath on your face was surprisingly nice, smelling strongly of the Jack Daniels he had been drinking. Just a little closer and- 
“Y/n.. I think I really want to go home now.” Your cheeks burned and Judd scoffed, stepping away from you. Goddamnit, Jessie.
Connie wailed and cried in the background, dramatically falling to her knees and slamming her fists against the floor. Your sister tugged on your sleeve, forcing your attention to turn to her. “Ew. Gross, Jessie.. Did you throw up?” You asked, seeing how her mouth and the top part of her shirt was covered in cotton-candy smelling puke. 
“Yeah..” She muttered apologetically, and you sighed. “Oh my god. Alright. Let’s get you home then.” You said, grabbing her hand and turning to Judd. 
“Smells fucking gross.” He said, eyeing Jessi who looked up at him wide eyed, blush covering her face. “I’m gonna go slash tires. See you later, shithead.”
You gave him a startled expression. “Uh, what?” The ghost of a smirk appeared on his face. “You heard me.” He said, before turning to walk away.
“Judd!” You called after him. “Thanks for the help!” 
“Whatever. Good luck with your gross-ass sister.” He grunted, not bothering to turn around as he disappeared into the backyard.
“Judd.. helped you?” Jessi asked, face pale and eyes tired. “Yeah.” You said. “Let’s get you home first, and then let’s talk about this whole drinking thing tomorrow.” Jessi groaned in displeasure, but followed you as you started your walk towards the front door. 
Hello! I finally have a long break from school, so I have decided to go out of hiatus ^^ (requests are always open!)
I’m gonna post a bunch of Judd fics today, since I started off doing the requests I got for him. This is gonna be the base for all the other fics, bc I’ll be referencing back to this one when talking about how Judd and reader met! I hope you enjoy <3
On a more serious note, I’m really grateful for everyone who reads and interacts with my stories, it means to worlds to me. And now that I’ve finally started to enjoy writing again, I can’t wait to get even more cool requests from you guys, thank you so much for waiting for me
Love, author <333
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soobadnoonecanstopher · 8 months
Text
Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 13.
Pairing: You x Baekhyun
Rating: M (Mature Content)
Word Count: 9.1K
Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Aftercare. Unhealthily obsessive love, probably pathological. Boundaries? What are those? Park Chanyeol being annoying.
A romance between two adults with an unspecified age difference between them, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.
Tag list: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks
Links: Part 1, ….Part 12, Part 13, Part 14
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You couldn’t stay in this bed with him. Your resolve was much too shaky for the sticky humidity that was building between the two of you and it was too early to fall asleep. You hadn’t even showered. You didn't have any extra clothes here either and you had a real work day tomorrow.
This whole thing was extremely impractical.
Yet actually getting up and pulling yourself out of his warm arms and actually walking across that large room to somehow find the exit felt like a solo journey on a small sailboat across the ocean. Just stupid to try alone and probably impossible.
Plus you hadn’t yet had a chance to see the whole house. Imagine, an entire room dedicated to a single statue, what kinds of other insane sights were waiting to be seen. It would be such a shame to miss it.
He had kept his hands to himself outside of the tight hug on this bed, and your own body had calmed down enough for some thoughts other than sex to eventually flit into your mind, even if you could feel how very messy and affected you were just from all of that tension and unresolved desire from the car, and frankly just from being this close to this man.
“Okay,” you said after holding your breath for long enough, after distracting your mind for long enough, after coming to terms with the fact that you would not be getting any sort of actual relief today, tomorrow, the day after, or for the rest of the week. It just wasn't happening. Your mind had accepted this and your body would simply have to accept it as well, “show me the bathtub. Let’s take a bath.”
It didn’t sound like he had fallen asleep, but it took him a few moments of quiet breathing to respond.
“Naked?” He said the same thing you’d said when he suggested it earlier, “Isn’t that dangerous?”
“You can lend me some clothes. At least a shirt. We definitely won't have sex.”
You were looking up into his face and he was looking down at you with his wandering brown eyes that floated all over your face.
He lifted a single eyebrow and gave his head a tiny shake.
“Noona, don't take this the wrong way and I love you so fucking much, but I think you might really be crazy.” He lifted a hand and he rubbed it roughly over his face.
A small laugh broke from your chest. Maybe he was right, but you were simply too invested in this charade now. You were too far in denial for much reason to make it through your thoughts.
“You suggested we take a bath earlier.” The accusation came out in a half chuckle and Baekhyun sat up on his arms on the bed beside you.
“Well yeah, that was … before,” he said with his lips pulled into a small wince and his eyebrows pulled down low, “when there was still some hope,” he rolled his eyes upward and his head wiggled back and forth with the little admission, “— you must think I am stronger than I am. I just got it back under control. Are you actually trying to kill me?” He was really going now. The frustrations must be getting to him.
“What kind of shirt,” He had turned his torso, lifted a hand and made a sweeping motion over the length of you, “do you think you can wear in the bath with me?”
“Just give me a long one,” you said with a shrug.
He had closed his eyes and lifted his hand over his face again, only this time he was rubbing his temples with his middle finger and his thumb.
“Oh..just a long one she says, why didn’t I think of that.” He was talking to himself. You pouted your lips at him and his eyes opened and he looked over at your face for a moment. He was pushing himself off the bed. You definitely heard a bit of attitude on his voice now, with the sarcastic responses and the mumbling. He had disappeared behind the glass partition but you were certain you heard him say something about a whole month’s worth of blue balls in one night.
He was gone for a moment and you sat with your legs curled up into your chest on his bed, seriously beginning to question this entire plan. The abstinence thing. Was it really supposed to help with the attraction you felt for each other? Weren’t you already in much too deep with him right here, about to get into the bath together, what difference did the sex make, you’d been touching and kissing and holding each other all night.
Maybe this was just uncessarry torture.
But you’d already taken it this far. He’s already promised to be the strong one. What kind of a spineless asshole would you seem like if you backed out now?
You couldn't keep pushing and pulling him around according to your whims of the moment. It was time for you to just stick with what you had decided, even if no matter how much you thought about it, it was really very stupid for you to genuinely believe that you could fix anything by withholding. If anything, the no sex rule seemed to only make you want him more.
A white flash of fabric flying at you caught you off guard and made you flinch. A soft white cotton shirt landed in your lap.
Baekhyun was standing with his arms on his hips staring at you curled up on his bed.
He lifted his chin, motioning toward the shirt, “Go ahead.” His voice challenged. “Let’s see the magic shirt.”
He knew what you were. You knew what you were. You were a crazy person.
You were wavering. You were wrong. This wasn't something that would simply go away because you didn't give into it. You were sitting here in his home, in his bed with about as high an attraction as you’ve ever felt for any other human being and you suddenly wanted to give up. No amount of abstinence was going to make this go away.
You stood up, holding the shirt in your hands. Baekhyun was standing in the same spot but his arms were crossed over his chest now as he leaned against the wall with his eyes on you.
You could feel an unsteadiness in your limbs and your fingers fumbled with the button of your dress shirt. You got it open and the next three followed. You knew you were wearing the red bra below this shirt and your eyes pulled up into his. You’d half expected him to turn around, or make some effort to avert his eyes as you undressed, but he was frozen, watching as you took the dress shirt off and slipped your hands into the sleeves of this plain white t-shirt.
At least he didn’t get the full view. You managed to remove the bra, the skirt, and your underwear all from beneath this shirt. It was long enough too; the hem fell just mid thigh. It kind of just looked like you wore a comfy sleep shirt that just happened to belong to him and sure, maybe you were completely naked below it, but that didn’t have to mean you were about to have sex with this man in that bathtub.
Baekhyun groaned into his hands. He was covering the bottom of his face with both of them. “I can’t do this,” he whispered. “I said I would be the strong one.” He said with a hopeless laugh erupting from his chest. It was the sound of a man who had given up his sanity. The sound of a man who was doomed.
“I’m — I’m,” He inhaled a deep and trembling breath, placing a flat palm on his chest, “I’m not stronger than this. Why did I bring you home? Why did I put you in my bed and then put you in my shirt?”
His complaints tugged at your heart and the three steps you’d taken in his direction stopped. You had been struggling on your own with the desire but hearing his words a mirror of your own heart’s struggles shed even further light unto just how flawed your shoddy plan had been.
“What if we just stop the stupid plan? Baek, I think I was wrong.” You said suddenly. Baekhyun’s eyes landed on your face up from where his eyes had been roaming down the length of you. His lips that had been hanging open since his earlier complaints pulled closed and he inhaled a breath and turned his head away from you.
“It’s just a week,” you heard him say. His jaw clenched down hard enough for you to see the muscles in his face surge.
“Haven’t we tried it enough already though… hmm?” You felt a single eyebrow lift on your forehead with your small question that made your cheeks burn with the blood that rushed just under your skin. You felt so silly now; vacillating so damn easily in front of him. What must he think of you; his flighty, wishy-washy girlfriend.
“I wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to convince you. I’m just struggling. I’ll get over it. If you’ll forgive me for anything you see me going through in the bath. Just — don’t touch me at all, I really mean that.”
He was moving. He was turning quickly away from where you stood beside his bed wearing nothing but his shirt and he had made his way off, disappearing through a doorway. This must be where the bathroom was.
Your legs carried you and your entire body felt on fire all over again.
You wanted him. You wanted so much that you were beginning to feel desperate for it; every cell in your body ached for him to touch you and watching his back retreating as he walked away from you made you ache for him even more. You wanted to run to him; to tell him you were wrong about all of it; beg him to touch you and to love you. You burned for it.
Maybe the water would extinguish the flames.
The bathroom was well lit, enormous, and lavish with entire separate sections made of floor to ceiling marble. Some closed off rooms had labels. You walked by something that said wet sauna, something else that said dry sauna, all the while as you walked you passed multiple counter spaces with drawers, nooks, shelves, some benches, some chairs. You passed dual showers with multi shower heads in them that had also had several slots in the ceiling that looked like you might just open an entire waterfall onto your head if you pulled the wrong lever. The entire thing was excessive. You couldn't believe he was calling this a bathroom, this was a private spa. It was way too much for one man living alone and you couldn't help but gasp when you turned a corner and the space opened up and there was one wall lined with wall to wall glass windows overlooking a view of a river bank. You’d never seen anything like this and for a moment you felt transfixed by the nighttime beauty. You hadn’t even known this house sat on the river and that there was so very much of this property that was untouched by the chaos of the busy smashed together buildings of this big city.
You could hear the rush of water running somewhere beyond this room you were standing in. You were almost afraid to take a step into the room with the bathtub, but your curiosity was burning you from the inside as you followed the sound.
You’d caught sight of his back. You had made it through that maze of countertops and vanities, past all of the showers and you had taken in all you could stand of the breathtaking view, your journey must have taken a bit longer than you realized because you caught sight of the back of the man. He was seated facing away from you, already inside the tub. There was clearly plenty of space for you to sit opposite of him and you didn’t even really have to touch him if you didn’t want to. Your first steps into this room where the large bathtub sat in the center was surrounded by more marble and you were hardly even surprised by the sliding glass door that led to some sort of outdoor pool that seemed to disappear over the edge of the horizon. You saw the heap of his clothing and while you could clearly see the clear skin of his back which told you that no, he wasn’t taking a bath in clothes like you were, another step closer to the clothes pile told you that he was completely naked in there. A pair of underwear sat on the very top.
You felt silly now, desperately clinging to this white shirt as if the act of taking a bath with your assistant in itself wasn’t just as incriminating as anything else you both have done together. As if you could somehow overpower the incredible desire with white cotton.
Your stupid plan had been such a weak attempt at controlling your emotions, and you had been such a failure at it too. It was a flimsy grasp at finding something to blame for this. As if the sex wasn’t just a symptom of a deeper thing that was happening inside of you. You wanted him. You felt so desperate for him that it was painful. You wanted all of him and you wanted so much from him that you struggled to define this feeling of deep, all consuming want that had taken over your once rational mind.
Whatever it was, it was more than desire. It was even more than love. It was coursing through your veins as if your blood cells had been infected; as if the bits that made up the cells in your body; the spaces in between the atoms of the matter that composed you were pulled, and ripped, and magnetized by him.
You wanted to consume him like a drug. You wanted him to flow through your veins into your brain and make you high and you wanted him again and again.
You rounded the tub. The water was crystal clear straight through to the bottom of the white porcelain. You could tell the water was warm with the light steam wafting up. Baekhyun sat with his arms over the sides of the tub, making no attempts to hide any bit of himself from you; his head turned and his eyes followed where you moved until you had stepped up and pointed a toe into the water as you quietly entered the tub, sitting on the opposite side. He had the view of the infinity pool and the nighttime city scape beyond the winding river’s edge behind your shoulders but you had arguably the better deal with his beauty in front of you.
The water rose and rippled as you stepped in and while there was plenty of room in this deluxe sized tub for two, you still crossed your legs, making yourself small enough so you didn't have to touch him too much. He’d warned you earlier that you probably should not. Still, your skin burned for it.
The water was very warm. It soaked quickly into the shirt and rivaled the heat that was already all over your skin. The cotton of the shirt floated around your skin and you allowed your body to sink below the water, closing your eyes and releasing the tension in your shoulders with a tiny moan as you let yourself sink. This was the biggest bathtub you’d ever seen and when you sunk so much that the water moved over your head and soaked the top of your head you felt the undeniable warmth of human flesh below your crossed legs. You quickly pushed yourself up and back over to your side of the tub; wiping the water from your face with your hands you looked across the surface of the ripples into his face.
Baekhyun watched you without saying a word. You’d noticed his hair was dry and a glance around didn’t give you any signs of any such things as soap or shampoo.
“Do you have any soap?”
Baekhyun’s focus was shaky. And after a few breaths he shook his head and inhaled while pointing a slim finger toward one of the cabinets on a wall.
“There should be some in there. I forgot it. I’m not exactly in my right mind.”
Your eyes followed where he pointed and then you looked down over the length of your body in the now soaked and rather transparent white t-shirt.
When your eyes found him again he was watching your face with that same shaky focus; a hand lifted up as he touched his fingertips lightly over his pouting pink lips.
“Do you want me to get it or are you going to get it?”
You shook your head lightly. Whose self control was to be tested more at this moment? You pushed with your feet, instantly feeling the wet fabric cling to your body as you stood up. You’ve been around this earth long enough to know that this shirt, while it gave the illusion of cover while dry, was now nothing more than sheer silk draped over you like a marble statue of your bare body.
His eyes were wild and he bit down hard on his finger with his white teeth as he took from what you gave him.
It all felt lost. All of the resistance and denial had been fruitless.
You stepped out of the tub and walked a wet path to the cabinet he had pointed to. Inside you found an assortment of high end shampoos and soaps. You blindly grabbed at them. You weren’t familiar with any of these brands.
When you returned, you’d placed all of the bottles on the floor beside the tub. His hands tightly gripped the sides of the porcelain and he watched you with vividly desperate eyes. He seemed to be breathing much too hard for someone who was supposed to be relaxing in a warm bath.
You felt done. You no longer wanted to play this stupid game anymore. Your fingertips found the hem of the wet tshirt and you gripped and pulled it up; struggling a bit as it clung to your skin and when you’d finally pulled it over your head it dropped with a heavy plop down at your feet.
Baekhyun closed his eyes and his head rolled back. He ran his hand over the length of his face and you heard a low sound escape from deep within his chest cavity.
“Can I come back inside with you like this?”
He rubbed his face roughly and you heard a sharp intake of breath. Through the clear water you could see just how affected he was. He was tense all over and just as aroused as you were; only his arousal you could see.
“The second you touch me, it’s over,” he whispered through gritted teeth. His fingers flexed out in your direction and then he stopped, closing his hand and making a tight fist as he shook his head back and forth. He was still breathing too hard and the longer you stood here outside of the water the more your skin cooled and prickled. You felt the goosebumps run down your spine; your skin tightened and your nipples hardened.
“I am making myself as clear as I possibly can,” he was speaking with his eyes open wide on you, “the second you touch me, I am done being the strong one.”
“I’ll let you use me. I want you to. If you want to fuck me then I’m going to let you,” his words came out through labored breaths, “because I can’t — I can’t be that strong.”
You had already made your decision; long before you’d first joined him in this bathtub, you’d lost this battle long ago. The best you could manage was a shrug. The best you could offer was a step into the warm water in the center of the tub. You could feel his eyes like a burning flame warming every bit of your skin and you made no attempts to avoid his skin as you moved inside the water.
Shamelessly you moved closer to him. He was watching you with his teeth biting down on his bottom lip. You reached a hand down for a bottle of shampoo, and as you did it, you slipped even closer to where he sat on the far edge.
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
Baekhyun’s lips were frozen shut. He did not answer your question but his eyes narrowed and he watched as you moved even closer to him. It only took one hand on his shoulder — only took your feather light fingertips connecting to the warm flushed skin of his chest and his hands moved off the tub and he surged into you in one fluid motion.
A plastic shampoo bottle clattered to the floor. A big wave of water sloshed over the edge of the tub when he leaned forward and wrapped both arms tightly around your waist and he pulled you into him. Your legs bent at the knees and you found yourself firmly pulled onto his lap. You felt the connection with him there. Thank god the water had washed away some of the substantial wetness between your legs because the desire you felt for him was embarrassingly obvious. Still with your legs parted so and his hardness pressing against you he slipped around within your mess so easily.
His face was angled as he looked up at you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his palms ran down from your waist to your thighs, digging hard into your skin below the water. You felt tinges of it, that desperation that was surging through your veins. You wanted him. It didn’t feel like enough to kiss him. You did it anyway. It didn’t feel quite enough to inhale your air directly from his parted lips. You wanted more. You needed him inside of you. It was a craving that took over your every thought. An obsession that shook you..
You lifted your hips; his hands dug harder into your skin until you felt pain where each of his fingertips sunk in deep enough to bruise. Your hand slipped into the water into the space between your bodies and you felt the firmness of him. You wrapped your fingers around him. He was so hard. He whined into your lips and he trembled and shook when touched him.
You felt desperate when you guided him into you and you sank down slowly, taking him inside — relishing in the tightness with which his arms held onto you as you did it. And then you were inundated. Your eyes were greedy even if the sensations of him filling you made your eyelids heavy, you had to look at him; you needed to see his face.
His eyes were closed so tight and his mouth hung open. He had stopped breathing when you took him in fully. He held his breath and he was frozen in stunning beauty.
You had to touch him. With your fingertips you touched his soft face; you traced the outline of the spray of eyelashes below his closed eye; brushed the tip of your index finger over his eyebrow; then down the bridge of his nose and oh his lips…his pretty pink lips that gave just below your touch, lips pursed into your touch and parted and his soft wet tongue that peeked out; his straight white teeth that nibbled. You felt all of him with fingertips first, with your lips next and you had to tell him — you had to tell him just how desperate you had been.
“I needed you, my baby,” you whispered into his ear; a breath hitched inside your throat causing a stutter in your words. He heard you though. A whining sound came from the back of his throat when you said it.
That heightened desperation you felt tightened all of your muscles around him and your fingers dug hard into the smooth skin on his back and with your other hand you threaded fingers through his hair, raking your fingernails along his scalp as you gasped in another breath to speak again, “I couldn’t stand it. I was wrong before. I need you inside of me like this. I’d rather die than be apart from you. I only need you.”
The addiction had taken your mind and made you ungovernable. It had compelled your tongue and pushed these dangerous words deep into his ears and you could see the effects of them all over him. His breaths puffed out in languished bursts; he was all tension throughout his body and although he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes open on you as you moved over him.
He felt so good to have inside of you but he sounded even better. His barely contained mewls and grunts, the unsteady whines and deep and throaty moans that came from him must be what heaven sounded like.
You watched his pretty face up close. His eyelids fluttered and the soft pink hue in his cheeks and soft lips illuminated his beauty. He licked his lips. He breathed with his mouth open and his soft wet tongue caught in between his white teeth. He bit down on his lip and his rough breaths huffed out of his nose in short bursts. He was trembling. He was shaking with each labored breath. The occasional glances of his pretty eyes on your face, his focus was being forcefully taken by the feeling of you and he tried to fight it. He tried to keep his eyes open but try as he might, they rolled back, they drifted closed — again and again. You recognized that he was struggling for control of himself, but oh, the way he slipped, the way he backslid, the way he was lost — only because of you — he succumbed.
You craved this. His weakness was you. You and the things you did to him.
“Tell me again,” his quiet kisses coaxed and his tongue slipped along the wet skin of your breast, up your neck where his mouth begged with his quiet plea, “please, say it again to me.”
You wanted him carved into your skin.
You wanted his fire to ignite your bones and burn you to ash.
You wanted him forever.
You were trembling; this love had you vibrating all over.
“I only need you,” you whispered into his open mouth that pulled into a smile, “just you, my love.” He was shaking with you and his breathing was changing. A sharp inhale — short stuttering exhales. You could feel him when he pushed his heat inside of you and the bursts of warmth filled you and spilled over your edges. You overflowed with him.
Elusive breaths were chased and you still clung to him; feeling much colder on your back and shoulders as you caught your breath at last. It seemed this water had lost its warmth; as long as you both had been here. You could make out the cloudiness that had once been this crystal clear bath water below your bodies and of course the sex was to blame.
You’d both been so very bad at keeping away from each other that you let out a kind of hopeless laugh that pulled his eyes open to look into your face.
“We didn’t even last the whole day,” you lifted a palm to lay over your mouth and you giggled, ignoring the way he hissed when he felt your laughter from the inside. The mess did not matter here. Everything would wash away.
You were being moved; being pulled, wet and naked and on wobbling legs through the vast bathroom to a shower with the echoing sounds of a bathtub draining behind you. You flinched when he pulled you in and closed the shower door and just pulled on a handle that began a gentle stream of water that ran over both of your heads from the ceiling. The water was warm. You’d expected it to be cold at first but the water here came out already at the perfect temperature and it came from all over the slotted ceiling above you.
This place was magic. Nearly as magical as the man who was bubbling up a loofah and closing in on you with it so he could rub the scented bubbles all over your body for you. You’d cleaned up with him after sex at your place before so you’d expected that maybe he would hand you the soap or hand you the shampoo to use, but today felt strangely different. Today his hands were involved. Today he was slipping his soap covered palms over the surfaces of your skin himself and when you turned around and closed your eyes, you leaned your head back into his shoulder simply soaking in the achingly intimate glide of his slow-traveling hands over your shoulders; over your breasts; over your belly and when he moved his hands between your legs washing away all traces of him that had filled you in the bath earlier you inhaled the smallest shuttering gasp for air. You’d never been treated with such tenderness in your entire life and the gentle touches of his fingertips made that same ache rise up inside of your chest, giving your once steady and easy breathing a new challenge.
You were struggling to explain this feeling that surged inside of you. Once again, it felt like so much more than something that could be described with like short four letter words like want or need or even love.
Those words weren't enough for this. This was unnamed and unexplored; uncharted and unknown.
The first time he spoke again was after the shower. Long after drying you off with thick fluffy towels and wrapping you up in an oversized bathrobe that matched the one he wrapped himself in.
“You’ll stay with me tonight?” You ran fingers through his wet hair over his forehead and his brown eyes opened when he asked the question.
You didn’t have anything here. You had no makeup for tomorrow, no clean clothes to wear to work. He probably had a toothbrush and you could sleep without clothes if you had to, but what about underwear? Your head ticked to the side and you looked into his face with a small frown on your lips.
“And work tomorrow?”
His tongue moved around inside of his mouth; you saw the movement in his jaw and he pulled his lips inward, lightly biting down before releasing them with a small pout. He wasn’t speaking and his eyes weren’t holding yours with as much commitment as he usually held them with and you knew this man by now to know he was working up to something.
When his eyes narrowed and he looked off somewhere beyond you with his lips pulling tight as he did it, you knew something was up.
“Uhh,” he said. His gaze bounced to your expecting face lightly before he looked away again and bit down on his lips once more.
“Baekhyun?”
“Uhh — okay, don't freak out.” His head dipped. He lifted a hand and rubbed over his closed eyes with his ring finger and inhaled a breath through his nose.
“So—” you heard him clear his throat and he had taken a small step back and away from you. His eyes, when they opened again he was again looking over your head, in some direction behind you. You were halfway through the enormous bathroom near his closet. The closet itself was like its own enormous room. These tiny words were so inadequate in describing this place of his.
“—so…I might have gotten you some things already…” he had a wince on his face. His hands had traveled down the length of your arms and he was gripping your wrists with his fingers.
You couldn't be sure that it wasn’t to keep you from running away.
He was talking again. So many more words were tumbling out, “…not that I expected you to come or to stay here…I mean—”
“But, why not though? I mean, stay over at your place all the time, right? And — and you gave me a toothbrush and I have left a few things there for when I stay over there, so this — like — makes perfect sense if you really think about it — please, don't freak out,”
He was pulling you around in a circle, leading you into the closet. He opened up one of the cabinet doors and there on the shelves you noticed several items, identical to those that you used at home, all brand new. You saw your toothpaste, deodorant, makeup in exact shades and colors. He even got the same eyeliner and mascara that you used every day for work. As you began looking further you noticed packages of the same style and size panties and socks you wore, some bras too in your size. Even make up removal wipes were identical; the hair ties and hair brush, styling tools still in their retail boxes. It looked like the contents of your bathroom had been transported here to this cabinet.
“ — but I kinda sorta looked around at the things you use and I bought those same things for here. I mean, just-just in case you wanted to stay over…you can stay.” He was leaning against the frame of the open cabinet door, looking down at your lips as he spoke his many, many words to you explaining this entire cabinet he kept in this home dedicated only to you.
“I hadn’t really intended to get so much, but once I got started I couldn't stop — oh my god, I sound super insane. Oh please don't freak out. I’m worried you’re about to freak out.”
In the drawers below you found even more new stuff. Once you got started looking, your hands reached for the next; pulling it open to find that this seemed to go so much deeper than just one cabinet.
There were things you didn’t own at home but were very obviously intended for you to wear here. Some pajamas. Some comfy pants, sweaters, shorts, and shirts. All of the seasons seemed to be covered. Your fingers were itchy with curiosity and when you opened the sliding closet door beside this cupboard you saw even more clothing; new items with tags still on them. He made a noise, a sudden squeak when you had opened this closet door as if he hadn’t intended for you to get to this part yet.
There were few professional outfits that were just your style and size but definitely not within your price range. You recognized some of these brands from high end fashion magazines. Even more things were tucked into the bottom of this closet. You could see boxes of expensive shoes that you could never afford. There were luxury handbags too that had to be worth thousands upon thousands of dollars. Louis Vuitton, Hermès, Burberry, Versace, Chanel, Gucci, the variety was as insane as the price tags had to have been.
Beside you, Baekhyun was making a groaning sound from deep within his gut.
“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself before he started speaking again. The words came out so much slower now than the rapid word-vomit he was releasing a few seconds ago.
“Okay so…those—” he inhaled and exhaled through his mouth as he pointed a shaking finger down at the spread of brands and logos.
His face scrunched up into a wince, ““those are just…gifts?”
The last word came out as a question. Even he couldn't believe he had done this now that he was saying it outloud. His fingers had begun frantically pushing at the closet door; closing it back up as he tried his best to hide this very odd truth that you had just discovered about him; your ridiculous and over-the-top boyfriend.
You were pretty sure you had seen a tv show like this. An all-powerful and much feared supervillain had fallen in love with a weak and powerless woman; kidnapped her and locked her up inside his tower giving her everything she could ever want or dream of and tried his best to keep her forever; a prisoner, trapped by his side.
“Baekhyun,” you said as softly as you could, “…baby?” You added sweetly with just enough brevity in your voice to let him know that you weren’t upset about this; but you did also thoroughly and completely recognize the ridiculousness of this entire situation, “Have I been kidnapped? Tell me the truth.”
His laughter came out in a quick snort, and he inhaled and covered his mouth with his hand as he tried to stifle the laughter that shook his chest. You were reaching into the drawers, grabbing the short and comfy sleep shorts you found there and the matching sleep top, grabbing a pair of panties and a comfortable bra from the stack of new items and you began removing tags from everything so you could put them on.
“You maniac! Is that door out there locked? Is there any way for me to get out of here? I’m trapped here aren't I? Wait a minute…you didn’t slip something like a marriage license into the stack of work papers I signed at work today, did you?” You had a smile on your face as you said it all and he was shaking his head with eyes closed and an audible hopelessness in his giggles. His face was pink and you heard him reining it in so he could inhale a breath and explain himself.
His hands were up defensively; his long fingers waved in front of him as he shook his head.
“You aren’t trapped. You are free to leave. I’ll take you home right now if you want, or you can just walk out and take a taxi. And I promise we aren’t married yet.”
When he stopped speaking he did so abruptly and the light smile on his face flattened out as you stared at his face, unable to contain the look of surprise he must have seen there.
Yet.
Yet?
It was that word at the end that had you so completely thrown for a loop. You had not expected to hear that word and having it come out so very casually from his lips, admittedly had you feeling quite taken aback. You felt frozen by it and something about Baekhyun having said it himself seemed to have had a similar effect on him as well.
He cleared his throat and closed his eyes and inhaled a breath that trembled on the way in, “I mean we aren’t married.” His eyes were still closed and you saw his lips form a silent curse word that he mouthed under his breath but did not say out loud.
You know that if he had said it, he had been thinking it at some point. You knew sometimes deep down inside the back of your head at your sleepiness and most vulnerable moments you had also considered what a life as Mrs. Byun Baekhyun might be like. But you were more of a realist than to allow your silly lovestruck mind to dwell on such things with careless and wanton abandon.
“What else is there?” Your question came out as a quiet curiosity more than any sort of accusation. “I know there must be more. Just show me now while we are doing this.”
His eyes were on you and he took one step backward as his hand lifted and he pulled the next sliding closet door open.
“Listen,” he began. It sounded like he had lost something. “I know, more than anyone else, I know that there is something wrong with me when it comes to you. I feel sick inside sometimes. Every single one of my waking thoughts is consumed by you. Sleeping doesn’t help either because you are there, every single time, so I wake up and I think of you instead of sleep.”
This closet had an evening gown. It was easily the most beautiful garment you had ever seen in person with your own two eyes.
“I have almost zero self control if it’s about you. I know…I know, shouldn’t, but goddammit,” he opened a small door inside the closet beside the dress and pulled out a flat sliding drawer, pushed a button that illuminated some lighting that brought out the fire of a thousand sparkling stones from the pieces of jewelry that lay inside this drawer. It was dazzling. It was extravagant. It took what was left of the breath you had in your lungs.
“What is this dress even for? And the jewelry? Baek—”
He shook his head back and forth, turned the overhead lighting off with a click and he closed up the drawers and closets.
“I know what you’ll say. Baekhyun,” his name came from his own lips with his eyes flipped up and a silly lift in his voice. This was his impression of what you sounded like. For the record, it sounded nothing like you. “Return it all. Go to therapy.”
You weren’t going to say that. Still, as long as he knew he was crossing all sorts of boundaries with his wild and unrestricted behavior that was plenty. As long as he knew that you neither expected any of this, or needed it, that was enough for you.
“I don't need stuff. It’s all very beautiful and you are incredibly insightful and every single thing you have picked with me in mind is gorgeous and perfect and amazing.”
“But it’s not what I need.” You emphasized the last thing again, just to make it clear in his heart. “I only need you. Just you.”
You reached for his hand and wrapped your fingers around his palm, giving him a good shake for emphasis. His brown eyes watched your face and a tiny smile grew on his lips. You leaned into him and kissed his pretty lips and he kissed you back; squeezing his fingertips around your hand as he did it.
“And maybe these underwear,” you said after you pulled back from his mouth; lifting your other hand, waving the panties with a smile and absolutely delighting in the way his own gorgeous smile grew wider on his face.
“But don't buy anything else. I’m serious. I don't need anything. Whatever you have ordered, or whatever is still coming, cancel it. It’s all too much.”
“Now, come on,” you said after pulling on enough clothing to make you feel like you were finally ready to leave this bathroom, “give me a tour of your house so I know how to find the exit. I cannot believe I’ve been kidnapped by such a crazy and sexy man. How ever will I escape?”
“Ahhh…Noona,” he whined through a nasally laugh and he was quickly pulling on a plain shirt and sweatpants onto his body as he followed your journey through his home. “You’re staying the night, right?”
His question echoed out behind you and you laughed at how hopeful he sounded. Of course you would. You had everything you needed right here; mostly this man.
“Right?” He was saying again as he reached for your hand and pulled you in the direction of the kitchen, which you remembered from when you both walked over here.
“Just tonight,” you said, “if I stay here too long I might forget what freedom tastes like.”
His steps paused their forward motion and he spun to look back at you, pulling hard on your hand, making your steps stumble and you collided into his chest. His hands were around your waist and your feet left the ground as you were lifted when he tightened his hold around you.
“Just don't forget what I taste like when you’re away from me,” his whisper was hot against your surprised lips seconds before his mouth opened up, pulling your bottom lip deep within his own mouth he kissed you deeply right here in this long hallway of this enormous home until you had to pull away from him to gasp for air. You had been backed against the wall and a sound caught your ears and pulled your focus somewhere further down the hallway closer to the kitchen area where you both had been headed.
It was almost as if you heard a throat clearing and you gasped out in surprise with the horrific thought that someone else besides the two of you might be inside this home right now. You were tapping him lightly on his shoulder and he pulled his face up from where his lips had been nipping along your neck to see what the urgency might be.
“I heard something, is someone else here?” His eyes looked into yours and he lifted his eyebrows with a shrug that didn’t have nearly enough alarm in it for your liking.
“Someone cleared their throat.” His eyes widened and his mouth opened knowingly.
“Ah,” he mouthed quietly in response to you.
Ah? Ah??
“Yes?” He said louder, angling his voice toward where you were certain the sound had come from.
A person. A real life human being; a whole-ass adult fucking person slowly emerged from around a corner with their head hung low. They were bent at the waist and had a genuine apology evident on their voice.
You gasped out in shock. You could feel your heart racing inside of your throat.
“Baekhyun, what the f— someone was here? The whole time we were — The whole time?” You could hear the panic in your voice as you confirmed what you suspected the second you heard his casual response. Your breathing was too fast and you felt frantic with this revelation. But Baekhyun, he wasn’t at all surprised to see this person standing in his home. It took all you had in you not to turn around and hide your face. You felt like your entire head was burning with embarrassment. You had just been making out like a couple of kids in love in this hallway, fully believing you both to be completely and utterly alone and there had been someone here in this home the entire time?
It was a man. He was dressed in a suit. Despite your utter shock to see him standing there, he did not in any way look out of place. In fact, he looked like he belonged there just as much as the elaborate furniture you had passed in the sitting room belonged in this fancy-ass home. He kept his eyes down on the floor the entire time he was addressing Baekhyun.
“Mr. Byun, My deepest apologies for the interruption, Sir. You have a visitor. Mr. Park Chanyeol. He insists. I did tell him you were occupied. Please Madam, accept my most sincere apologies,” The strange man lifted a hand to his chest and bowed a regretful face in your direction before he turned back to Baekhyun to speak again, “Mr. Park says it is an emergency and you were not answering your phone.”
He nodded his head once to the man who bowed his head and turned on his heels. Baekhyun’s hands ran over the empty pockets of his sweatpants, “Oh, I don't even know where my phone is,” he mumbled to himself.
“Baby, can you give me just a minute? You can wait for me in the kitchen and we can have some snacks while we do the tour,” he grinned and scrunched up his nose with a little head shake.
You had to admit, you were curious about what kind of non-work related emergencies Baekhyun had to deal with in his personal life, but your heart had eventually settled down, the butler, or whoever that man was had vanished like he never existed in the first place, and so you simply nodded your head; tamping down your curiosity enough to follow him into the kitchen.
“Mimi sent us some strawberries,” he whispered, “I saw her packing them.”
A booming voice echoed throughout the long hallway that you knew led toward the front doorway. You remembered the large atrium where the entryway had been and the owner of the voice seemed to be taking full advantage of the acoustics there.
“Hey Baek!” The voice boomed. Beside you, Baekhyun’s face changed. He inhaled a long breath and closed his eyes up tight with a small groan escaping from the back of his throat. “Byun Baekhyun! Why aren’t you answering your phone?!”
“I’ll be right back.” He was gone so quickly and from the sound of the voice, Baekhyun’s visitor was making his way closer to where you both stood in this kitchen.
Your curiosity was about as high as you could stand, but still you forced yourself to focus on your task at hand. Finding Mimi’s strawberries in this fridge.
You pulled out the bundles that you had helped carry inside and began untying and unwrapping things. Baekhyun must have intercepted his visitor by now and you could make out occasional words of what they were speaking about to each other. They weren’t that far away, or maybe Mr. Park’s voice was just that loud.
You could, though, hear Baekhyun’s abrupt question to the man.
“Dude. What the hell? I thought you were in Malta for another month,” Baekhyun asked. Judging from his tone, this was not a business meeting. This man was a close enough friend for him to have knowledge of the man’s schedule and to be questioning any deviations from that known schedule. Plus he clearly had called the man dude. This was his friend. You pulled the box of strawberries carefully out of the bundle and placed it quietly on the marble countertop.
“Why aren’t you answering your phone? I’ve been calling you all night.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Bullshit. Busy with what.”
Baekhyun’s answer was spoken too quietly for you to make it out and you took a step closer to the hallway and angled your head.
You heard the low timber of the other man’s booming voice as he let out a belly laugh; clearly highly amused at whatever Baekhyun had said to him.
“Chanyeol, shut the fuck up. Lower your voice.” It was whispered harshly in that familiar voice of your boyfriend.
“No way. No fucking way. You liar. You’re so full of shit.” The loud man was laughing and made no attempts to be quieter. You were weirdly thankful that the man was so loud because you really wanted to hear what they were talking about.
“Hey, seriously though. Let me stay here for the rest of the month.”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Go to a hotel.”
“Don't tell me…do you have a girl over? Baekhyun you asshole, do you have a girl over right now?”
“I’ll pay for your hotel for a month. Just shut up and leave. Just go. Here, take it.” You pictured Baekhyun handing his friend a black credit card and you wished you could just look at them both instead of having to imagine what was happening in that hallway.
“Oh my god. You do. You slut.”
“Wait a minute, but if you have someone over now, what happened to the other one?”
“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun’s voice came out low and menacing, “don't.”
“What about that Noona; the manager; the love of your life; the only one for you; the one you are going to marry? What about my future sister in law and the future mother of your children? Baekhyun, don't tell me you were rejected.”
You weren't sure what had possessed you or had actually moved your feet, but you found yourself standing right beside the long hallway and when you simply could not stand it any more you peeked your head around the corner just enough for your eyes to see the two man having this very loud discussion that was clearly about you; Baekhyun’s Noona; Baekhyun’s Manager; the love of his life; amongst other things he had clearly proclaimed to his noisy and very tall busy-bodied friend Chanyeol.
Baekhyun was standing with one hand on his forehead, another on his waist, his head angled down with his eyes closed. Based on his body language he looked very done with the tall man standing in front of him who’s laugh had taken hold of his whole body as he bent at the waist and guffawed loudly enough for every single soul in this entire house to be able to hear him.
You caught hold of Baekhyun’s eyes and you saw him throw his head back in defeat as he inhaled a deep breath. He lifted a single hand about waist level and held it with his palm up in your direction.
“Hello,” you called out into the space the two men occupied and you lifted a friendly hand to wave in their direction. The tall man’s laughter stopped immediately, he straightened his spine, dropped his chin as he bit down on his lips and turned nearly completely pink right before your eyes. “Hi, I’m the Manager Noona.”
“Oh my god, she’s real,” you heard him whisper to Baekhyun who wasn’t at all looking at his friend but rather had his eyes focused on the wall directly in front of him without any traces of amusement anywhere on his face at all. Chanyeol was smiling wide at you and he was taking a few steps in your direction with his waist bent and his hand outstretched as he closed the distance.
You heard a listless and defeated introduction from your boyfriend.
“Chanyeol, this is my girlfriend.”
“Noona, this is my dumbass best friend, Chanyeol.”
[To be Continued]
Links: Part 1, ….. Part 12, Part 13, Part 14
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Not One of Many - Chapter Twenty Seven.
Thanks to those still showing interest and interactions on this, but lamentably as of now the story is on hold as I need to finish it, and I’m just not feeling motivated to write at the moment. I’ve had too many knocks, too much take, take, take from readers and not enough feedback (but I do see those who have remained loyal in that respect. I see you and appreciate you hugely) which has resulted in me basically losing my creative drive. 
I did always say this would happen... content creators do warn people that lack of interaction causes us to lose our love of writing, so here I am now, living proof of that. The only people who should feel bad about that are those who don’t bother interacting, because it’s your fault. I’m not mincing my words or being gracious in the face of it any longer. Selfishness can only be tolerated for so long, and I’ve really had my fill of it. 
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Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six
Tag list - In the comments
Words - 3,358
Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!
“She sprayed his car? Jesus Christ, I bet he was bloody livid!”  
Shaking her head, Amira looked a picture of shocked, she and Mimi being brought up to speed on Talia’s most recent antics, Beth deciding to take up her offer for the three of them to meet up. It had been a relaxing day, her most recent articles finished and submitted, the housekeeper cleaning in preparation for her parents, grandmother and Alfie’s mum to visit them for dinner later that evening, and the man himself currently with Steve, playing a few games of squash.
“Oh, he most certainly was. He got it fixed the day after, but that isn’t the point,” Beth began, Mimi quick to pipe up.
“It’s that she’s continuing to do it in the first place, and as yet, you can’t even prove any of it is coming from her!”
“Thus nixing your plan to file a restraining order,” Amira sighed. “I suppose in that way, she actually is quite clever, because she knows you’ll need proof of identity to facilitate such. Can’t file a restraining order without concrete evidence detailing the person whom you wish to restrain”
“You seem very up on all of this, miss legal mind?” Mimi questioned, Amira’s eyes widening.
“When I was eighteen, I had a stalker, too. Some guy who’d seen my pictures in the lad’s mags and took a bit too much of a shine to me. It was easy for me, though, because he wasn’t threatening me. He just followed me everywhere I went as soon as he’d managed to find out where I lived. He was a right creep, but it meant I could take photographs and keep a diary of whenever I spotted him. It was plentiful evidence in keeping him away from me once I got in touch with the police.”  
“Gosh, I didn’t realise that. It’s spooky, though, isn’t it? When you know you’re being followed,” Beth empathised, Amira nodding knowingly. “I mean, she could be watching me right now, for all I know.”
She was then entertained greatly by Amira’s defiance, holding up both middle fingers and waving her arms around, muttering ‘bugger off, you bitch!’ as she did it. She laughed at herself, placing her hand atop Beth’s. “You seem to not be letting it rattle you, though, and that’s good!”
Beth smiled, stroking the side of her finger with her thumb before lifting her coffee cup to her lips again, giving the burning hot cappuccino a cautionary blow. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t, but I’m trying not to let it get me down too much. I have enough on my mind as it is, I’m meeting Alfie’s mum for the first time tonight, and he my parents and nan as well.”
Amira’s eyebrows rose significantly. “Not cooking, are you? Sarra will be all over you like a rash!”
Beth laughed immediately. “Yes, Alfie told me all about the roast dinner fiasco, and the half a bottle of vodka that followed it, so no, we have caterers coming in.”
She shook her head, her and Mimi exchanging knowing laughter, remembering it well. “Mimi had only just moved in at the time as well, Sarra giving her the once over and huffing ‘another bloody shiksa, Alf?’ at him before coming to bother me and my roast lamb.”  
Mimi threw her head back, clapping with entertainment. “I’m laughing now, but she was scary!” she then corrected herself quickly, realising it was probably not what Beth wanted to hear. “I mean, she is a lovely lady, very quiet and polite, but she has this fierceness beneath her exterior, a bit like Alfie, except she doesn’t really blow her stack as monumentally as her son can.”
“Nah, Mims is right. Sarra is nice. She’ll adore you the second she finds out you’re Jewish, so you have that going for you. Oh and don’t wear anything too low cut, because she will comment on your boobs. Or lack of them, as the case was with me.” She snorted into her hand, whacking Mimi on the thigh when she began to giggle loudly. “It wasn’t funny!”
“Then why are you pissing yourself?” she cried, slapping her in return. “Oh, I wish I could have been there to see it! She told Amira that she had boobies like two aspirin on an ironing board!”  
Beth gasped, her eyes widening. “That’s a bit personal!”
Amira leaned closer, raising an elegantly shaped eyebrow. “The more Chablis she drinks, the looser her tongue gets.”  
“But overall, a nice lady, right?” Beth quipped, cocking her head slightly to the side, her face escalating the girl’s laughter. They reassured her that she was, but did have her little quirks about her. Alfie had confirmed such, mentioning in the past that she was a very relaxed woman, but sometimes, did make the odd sassy comment. Either way, Beth knew she’d be nervous regardless, finishing her coffee morning with the girls and then heading for a massage, meeting Oliver for lunch before she arrived home, finding a glorious sight asleep on the sofa, a freshly showered Alfie, dressed in just a low-slung pair of black sweats.  
“Well, ain’t that a nice wake up?” he murmured sleepily, feeling Beth circling one of his nipples with her tongue, her fingers tickling over his abs.  
She grinned, kissing her way to his mouth. “Give me a few minutes and it’ll be even nicer.”
His mouth tilted up, chuckling. “Oh?”
“Mmm.” Her confirmation preceded a scorching kiss, her hand grasping his hardening cock, massaging his shaft through the confines of cloth. “There it is, just what I was looking for.” she purred, her mouth hungry at the side of his neck before it trailed down, her hands tugging at the elastic waist of his sweats, pulling them from him before she moved to kneel between his thighs, her tongue running up over the line of hair between his pubes and navel a few times, her hand continuing to massage his rapidly thickening erection.  
When her mouth finally met the silken skin encasing such heated steel, he groaned deeply, her eyes meeting his as she made him vanish into her mouth, sucking him softly to begin with, her lips gradually adding the kind of pressure that had the taut muscles of his thighs dancing beneath the skin. “Bloody hell, darlin’. You always look so fucking pretty with a mouthful of cock.”  
She slid her mouth back up in slow ascension, spitting a mouthful of saliva onto his erection, licking the very tip of it, his lust burning at such a sight. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” Winking, she took him into her throat again, steadily working her lips in a seductive drag over his shaft, her nails raking over his chest.
He was transported to ecstasy rapidly, chest rising and falling faster as her mouth sped up, his gritty groan arrowing right to her cunt, her walls opening, stinging with want. While she kept him happy with her mouth, she managed to undress herself with her free hand, pulling and shimmying out of her dress, undoing the ribbon tie of her thong and unhooking her bra, her hand then pushing between her legs to caress her wetness, elegant fingers stroking over her clit as she moaned around his cock.  
He looked down at the sight, his heart throbbing, arousal charging through him as he watched her touching herself, her soft moans vibrating along his shaft, her eyes never leaving his. The combined ministrations of her lips tightening, tongue pressing and hand stroking on him had his veins blazing, Beth stopping to trail her tongue in long, seductive licks over the very head of his hardness, purring seductively.
“Want me to fuck you yet, big fella?” He was out from under her in a second, pushing her face down onto the sofa, yanking her hips up to plunge into her.
“Nah, but you will lie there and take it while I rail the life out of you, treacle.” The clutch at the back of her neck was hard, imposing, forcing her down as he daggered her insides with rapacious thrusts, her wail filling the space along with the sound of his flesh smacking against hers, their sex utterly brutal, a hundred percent primally charged.
He was completely barbaric with her, escalating her cries by spanking her bum hard, his hand shifting to her hair, grasping it at the roots and flexing his fingers in tug, lifting her head up, creating a warm throb of delicious pain at her scalp, his cock battering her walls. “Like it like this, don’t you, baby beast, ay? When I fuck you hard and nasty?”
“Don’t you dare fucking stop, oh god, yes!” she exclaimed, a raspy moan leaving her lips as she felt her insides decimated so thoroughly, she knew she’d likely have issues sitting down later.  
He spanked her a few more times, his hand pulling at her hair harder. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, you take my cock better than anyone.”  
His words of praise had fire licking her veins, tingles shooting through her spine as she felt the rising tide of heat pulsing from her trembling walls, shattering into nirvana shortly before his own fervid culmination had him groaning out each pulse, cock spurting thick, hot ropes of release deeply within her fluttering cunt. They lay in an entanglement of limbs in the wake of it, stroking one another, Beth departing with a kiss to go and have a bath before getting ready.
She’d been rendered so blissfully cock drunk by Alfie that she didn’t feel much in the way of nerves as she enjoyed her bath before slowly getting ready, curling her hair into loose waves and applying eyeliner and false lashes, her lips nude but a smear of balm. When it came to choosing an outfit, though, Amira’s words playing heavily on her mind, she became a little unglued.  
“Low cut, low cut, high necked, but it’s too hot, oh, lord,” she sighed, moving onto maxi dresses. Most of those were too low. Finally, she came across a floral patterned one that covered her chest without stifling her, the floaty fabric light enough to keep her cool. Now, if only her insides were fixable by such means. For that, she had wine, though, entering the kitchen and pouring herself a glass before going outside to keep out of the caterer's way, finding Alfie playing with Cyril.
“Look at your mum, Cyril, don’t she look lovely!” Her heart fluttered at his cute words; Cyril unmoved completely as he yanked on the end of his rope toy.  
She smiled, glad he approved. “Thanks, boo. Shouldn’t you be getting ready, though?”
“Yeah, I’ll go up in a bit. Only need ten minutes.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Our guests will be arriving in just under fifteen.”
“Blimey!” That did the trick, Alfie leaving Cyril to it, Beth deciding to take over.  
“No, leave it, leave,” she told the dog, Cyril dropping the rope obediently. She then threw it across the garden, the gargantuan beast charging in the cutest lollop she’d ever witnessed, like a hench spring lamb, picking up his rope and dutifully trotting back to drop it at her feet. “Just a few more, and then I have to go in and resume panicking.”  
A couple more throws and Beth re-entered the house, Cyril following her call when he made a beeline for the kitchen, coming with her into the lounge and sitting down in his plush bed, Beth noticing a lovely tray of varied little finger foods lined up. Chicken satay, mini beef wellingtons, smoked salmon blinis, and oh god, there went the door.  
“Baba!” her father greeted her with warmly, giving her one of his usual bone crunching hugs. “What a fantastic pile of bricks this is, wow! Oh, and there’s a dog! Is he friendly?”  
“Very much so,” Beth confirmed, kissing her mother. “His name is Cyril.” While her father made friends, delighted by the fact he asked for his paw to shake and Cyril gave it up immediately, she opened her arms to her darling grandmother, who could hardly keep her eyes in her head. “Hi, bubbe.”
“Is this one of the Queen’s residences, love?” she joked, kissing her granddaughter’s cheek as she entered, her mouth dropping. “Oh, your grandfather would plotz. Look at it!”
“I think you’re doing a good enough job of that for the both of you,” Beth confirmed, Alfie arriving with them. After all introductions were given, they led Beth’s family on the grand tour of the house, Alfie excusing himself halfway round to answer the door to his mother. Once the tour was done, they headed back down to the lounge, Beth dutifully taking her bubbe’s arm to help her on the stairs, entering the lounge to see Alfie, and his older, female double standing there waiting for him.  
“Mum, this is Beth,” he began, Sarra reaching for her hands.  
“Oh, you’re so lovely, look at this dress, and your makeup!” she announced, narrowing her eyes a touch and cocking her head, as if she was trying to work something out. “Alfie, she looks Jewish. Is she Jewish?”  
A little ripple of laughter went around the room, Alfie beginning to nod. “Yeah, mum. She is.”
“Oh! Oh!” she began, pulling Beth into a hug, kissing her cheek. “Finally!” She then went to her son, bundling him in a hug. “Mazel tof, Alf. I’m so flippin’ happy! Have you been waiting for this as much as I have, too?” she then asked Beth’s family, coming to shake hands and give kisses of introduction.
“We have, yes,” Beth’s mum began. “I’m Helen, by the way. My husband John and my mother, Miriam.”  
“Sarra, I’m thrilled to meet you all. Well, I think this calls for wine!” Beth made her way to the kitchen in order to furnish their guests with their drink's choices, breathing a little sigh of relief. All was going well thus far. That was, until they sat down to eat, her father’s choice of question causing her a little flutter in her chest. Of course, she knew such would likely be coming, though. She just hadn’t anticipated for it to be right away.
“So, Alfie. I have to ask, just as any father would. What was the deal with you prior to your relationship with my daughter, seeing three women at once? Not exactly a conventional set up,” he asked, his daughter ceasing chewing for a second, Alfie noticing and patting her hand.
“You’d be right to observe that, John, because it was,” he began, sipping his water. “The deal was simple; I had three girlfriends because I could. I was greedy in that respect, and I liked it, the nature of a polyamorous homelife, and it suited me very well, until it didn’t. Until I met your daughter and realised that I’d found everything I’d been searching for in one woman, rather than little pieces in three or more. That’s what made me change my stance, realising that she was the perfect woman for me and because she wouldn’t budge on my asking her to move in and be one of three, I had to be the one to change my life to accommodate her. She was more than worth it.”
John nodded, clearing his throat. “And forgive me, but what’s to stop you from enjoying it again and thus hurting my daughter in the process?”
He received a shoe in the ankle from his wife, and a sharp look from both Beth and Sarra for such a comment.  
“Because everything I’ve ever wanted is sitting right here beside me,” Alfie told him cordially. If it wasn’t Beth’s father, he’d have likely made some sarcastic barb over whether or not he’d been listening, but out of respect, he held it back. Before their arrival, he’d also put himself into John’s shoes as well, preparing for the line of questioning he knew he could possibly face, thinking how he’d react should it be his own daughter in question. He didn’t blame John at all for seeking answers.
“Alfie, I have to say, this wine is absolutely beautiful,” Helen piped up, wanting to move the conversation along. “I notice from the bottle it’s from Palermo? We had a beautiful holiday out there when Beth was nine, gorgeous place, absolutely stunning.”
“Yeah, yeah I couldn’t agree more, Helen,” he began, relieved. “It’s from a vineyard my business partner and I are considering buying at present, so I should think I’ll be heading out there again before the winter for a little holiday with Beth, once London has become all rainy and miserable.”
“You’ll be back before Hannukah, though, yes?” her grandmother asked, Alfie reaching to stroke her hand affectionately.  
“Oh, absolutely. The Solomons’ make a bloody big deal of Hannukah, bubbe, don’t you worry about that, yeah?” He kissed her hand, Miriam beaming, loving that he’d referred to her as bubbe. She loved everyone to call her that, even to the boy who brought her paper from the local shop, she was bubbe.  
“A vineyard, eh? Blimey, so that brings up your business portfolio by another notch, then,” John spoke, pacified nicely by the answer he’d received, seeing for himself quite clearly how the young man sitting across from him truly adored his daughter. “So, tell me about some of your other ventures?”
Alfie did, in turn asking him about his own career, never hogging the spotlight of conversation as he worked hard to make sure everyone was included, finding Beth’s family to be just as polite and charming as her. She definitely came from good, Jewish stock.  
“I’m thrilled it all went well, and thank you so much for handling dad’s questions about your former relationship dynamic as well as you did,” Beth said later that evening, aiming for the red ball in the middle pocket, just she and Alfie, dressed in casual, comfy clothes after taking a bath together, enjoying the quiet of the house over a bottle of Merlot and a game of pool.  
Alfie grinned, stopping to scratch a nearby Cyril on the head before chalking his cue. “Well, my darlin’, I weren’t about to be rude to the man, absolutely not. Especially when before he even got here, right, I put myself in his shoes for a moment, thought about it as if it were my daughter’s boyfriend I was meeting for the first time, and he’d been with multiple women at once. Gave me a bit of perspective, it did, because I have to admit, I’d have exactly the same concerns. I know that makes me sound a bit hypocritical an’ all, but you know, it’s different with offspring, ain’t it?”
Beth watched him take his shot, biting the corner of her lip slowly, reaching for her wine. “What’s that dreamy look all about, Bethany?”
“Nothing,” she blurted, shaking herself from her daze.  
He wasn’t convinced. “Come on, baby beast. Out with it.”
She laughed softly through her nose, placing her wine down again. “I was just imagining you as a dad. It’s much too soon for us to even begin thinking about that!”
He chuckled, nodding. “I’ll bloody say!” taking his shot, he hissed a curse at missing, Beth bouncing with triumph when he set her up for a very easy corner pocket shot she didn’t miss. “I mean, if it happened then I wouldn’t be unwelcoming to it, but as far as planning goes, I dunno, a year or two? Have some time for us to just enjoy it being the two of us and the dog, yeah?”  
“Are you happy being mummy’s little boy, Cyril?” Beth cooed, crouching to rub his ears. “Yes, I think he likes being an only child.” she confirmed to Alfie, looking back at the table. “A year or two sounds great as well.”
Their families meeting, and now the very simple and easy discussion of when they would start one for themselves. It truly was a lovely way to round of what had been a fantastic day.  
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vivispec · 11 months
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hey, i’m bloo/vivi (she/her, 25). feel free to send me asks/message me/tag me in stuff, i always love interaction!
mostly posting dragon age rn (and for the foreseeable future) but i’m also pretty big on bg3, outer wilds, mass effect, zelda, msa, ghibli, ancient magus bride, and lots of other things i pick up and put down. i do a lot of writing for my da ocs which you can find on my ao3 here.
speaking of, here are links to my big completed projects:
derecho (my submission for the 2023 dragon age big bang, with AMAZING art by neoendydy)
my whumptober 2022 collection (100% completed because. i have issues.)
under the cut are my dragon age ocs whomst i love dearly, and write about pretty much exclusively! i am a dirty dirty console player so janky quality be upon ye
just realized all but one of these bitches is elves. look. i told you i got issues ok.
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here we have my beloved viera’vun ‘viera’ lavellan, my inquisitor and a solasmancer (i am so sorry to her), as well as the oc i write most by far. she was a dalish hunter trained primarily in daggers, later specializing as a tempest. she is a pathfinder at heart whose greatest strengths are her perceptiveness and resilience, while her greatest weaknesses lie in her impulsivity, lack of assurance in her identity, and her tendency to run from her problems. i have a bunch of fucked up aus centered around her and all the situations i put her into! she likes to run, climb, and sing (she is Bad at it). varric calls her ‘finch’.
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iloniyn, my most preciousest boy. him and viera are hunting partners as well as (platonic) soulmates, a phenomenon known to the dalish as tael’inan. they are each one half of a whole. iloniyn is incredibly sarcastic, confident, and prickly, but tends to care deeply about those that he considers his people, and gives of himself freely to them (even if he complains while doing it). he is bonded to @sweetmage​‘s oc athimien, likes to whittle, is a great shot, and can play the lute. varric calls him ‘snipe’.
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ishme aeducan, a sharp, hard woman who will not be made a fool again. raised to navigate the subtle and dangerous world of dwarven politics, she is incredibly cunning, and often pulling the strings in any given situation. she is softened by alistair, who teaches her how to be a person as she teaches him how to be a king. wields dual blades as a warrior.
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taufei! oooh i love taufei. a leader alongside ishme by the end of origins, she is idealistic, friendly, and generally just a chill person to hang with. though content enough to do her own thing, once she sets her sights on something, she does not relent, often leading her into...hairy situations. those situations include wooing a witch of the wilds and having a sweet lil totally-not-in-any-way-shape-or-form-creepy baby with her! yippee! she was the second of her clan, though her magic was never incredibly powerful and, as such, she made her living on making and infusing potions for her clan. she is a skilled herbalist, knows enough archery to protect herself, and actually has really long luscious curls that Do Not Exist in game you are just going to have to trust me okay.
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kita tabris. she is...intense. if you are her friend she is kinda just a dudebro. picked up the big sword her mother used to wield and decided to learn how to use it because, hell yeah, big sword (which, as it so happens, is exactly what her mom did). if you are not her friend, she is. intense. finds battle thrilling, and isn’t afraid to spill blood. while she can come across as flippant or immature, much of her disregard stems from an avoidance of her more serious (and painful) thoughts and emotions. she is zevran’s gorgeous and incredibly powerful girlfriend whomst he adores and cherishes, and the fact that she can, will, and has crushed a man’s skull with her bare hands only strengthens his devotion. 
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araia surana, a very sweet young mage who is wholly overwhelmed by this big, new world around her. previously a teacher’s pet who didn’t much mind kinloch hold with little in the way of friends, jowan’s ‘betrayal’ left her reeling with nowhere to turn. while she is curious of the world beyond, she is also incredibly anxious. she picks up a habit of lying to avoid confrontation, and while she is very good at it, her dishonesty puts strain on her and leliana’s relationship early on. her passion is in ancient and forgotten magical techniques and practices. she loves listening to leliana’s stories of adventure and romance, and often plays ‘doll’ when her girlfriend decides she needs something to dress up. after the archdemon is defeated, she spearheads efforts to find the cure for the joining.
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northwest-cryptid · 1 year
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Tumblr is such an interesting website because if you ask me as someone who frequents a lot of old websites, forums, and the like; it’s actually extremely similar to those sorts of “closed groups” in that it’s entirely user curated to the point 90% of the people who I interact with or who interact with me are part of at least 1 if not more common interests; for me it’s mainly ProjMoon related media. But it also almost entirely, though sadly not completely; lacks the toxicity we so often see on those sites, or even other social media sites; this is going to go a little all over the place but if you’re curious you know the drill by now here’s a little “keep reading” thing and my thoughts on everything will be below it:
We see this in a lot of forums on the internet that take up almost cult like “us vs them” motifs where even the admins involved will intentionally scare away or bully newcomers who get too comfortable and start actually, you know; using the website. However what’s really cool about tumblr is that because it’s such a diverse web of these sorta closed groups, we don’t see that here.
We totally do in some fandom spaces don’t get me wrong, but I genuinely feel comfortable just posting whatever random stuff comes to mind. I don’t believe any of my mutuals or even followers would randomly decide to say I’m no longer welcome or allowed to post in ProjMoon tags simply because “you also posted about some other random thing one time” it’s cool because in a sense this site functions as a way for us to get to know one another on a deeper level if desired, but while it gives me the power to DM someone, or send them an inbox message it also gives them the power to simply not answer it, to block me, or to go about their business as if I don’t exist and the thing is; doing so won’t effect how the site functions for them.
As a content creator albeit a casual one, using twitter was so strange because if I didn’t have enough followers for someone, they might not give me the time of day. Which yea it sounds scummy, because it is. However that doesn’t mean it wasn’t so commonplace that it was normalized and greatly accepted by other content creators who would often justify it with saying things like “we need to focus on growing our brand and if you’re not going to help us grow our brand then we just don’t have time for you because this is work this isn’t socializing.” Which man, this is why I literally go on record saying “I don’t like vtubers” I don’t mean Hololive or Nijisanji or any professional studio, I literally mean up and coming vtubers on twitter who have around 1,000 followers and think they’re such hot shit that they don’t have the time for someone with say 200 or so followers simply because “mah brand” 
tumblrs system functions in such a way however, where my follower count, and your follower count are things that are entirely nonimportant. Like, how many followers do I have? Take a guess? Here’s your answer: does it matter? At the end of the day no matter how many followers I have it doesn’t really change anything about me. It doesn’t gauge my ability to make a “banger post” or to fit in with a community, it doesn’t give you any understanding of how well I can joke around or put on a show. All it does is give you an arbitrary number to judge my worth by. 
What always amused me so much about my time actively trying to grow an audience via twitter was that so often I’d see these streamers with 1000+ followers only getting about 2 - 5 active viewers, and the best part about that is that genuinely a majority of the time that was them asking myself or the others they were in a collab with to also view their stream to help boost ratings, the people watching weren’t from their thousands of followers, it was literally maybe their 1 regular and the other people streaming with them or half the time literally themselves on a phone or in a different window. However they still looked at their flashy 1,000+ follower count and said “I’m better than you.” 
This is how we’re raised on the internet, we’re raised and conditioned to believe if my number is bigger than your number I am socially better and that I should be held in a higher regard than you, that you should desire to be my friend because I have an inherent worth that you do not. 
I mean okay hear me out real quick, when I tell you “I’m a vtuber/streamer/content creator” if that excites you at all, does it excite you because “my friend is a content creator and I would love to see what kind of silly content they make having got to know them and enjoying my interaction with them!” Or perhaps does it excite you because “maybe I could get popular by being their friend! They must have a huge following who would give anything to talk to them like I do!” While posing it like this absolutely does make it seem like a very “selfless vs selfish” reasoning, I promise it’s not that cut and dry; but at the end of the day I always find it interesting how people often find my more interesting when they hear I’m a streamer and content creator, but lose all that interest the moment they hear that I average between 5 - 15 active viewers. They don’t care that those regulars are really cool people who I’ve genuinely enjoyed getting to know and who I am always happy to see in my chat, and who I don’t address as “chat” but rather have gotten to know well enough that I can address them by their name or at the very least their username because I feel it’s a level of respect that should be shared when my audience is still small enough for me to do so. I understand if you have literally tens of thousands of messages scrolling by, you would have to distance yourself a degree from every viewer of course; but when I see someone with 3 viewers refer to their audience as “chat” it bothers me because it feels so subhuman to simply disregard the idea that there’s another living breathing person on the other side of the screen who is giving you their time and attention.
What does this have to do with tumblr? Well simply put tumblr is no different, I know it sounds silly or maybe even stupid for me to say this but I don’t enjoy looking over all my notes because “oh man I’m so popular and I get so much validation from seeing everyone interacting with me” but rather I really enjoy reading through everyone’s tags on posts they reblog from me because it’s a way for me to get to know them a little better, and it leads to me actually checking out their blogs and enjoying their original content, and this allows me in turn to piece together a little more about who they are as a person, and it makes me feel interested in reaching out and saying hi even if it takes a while for a conversation to really get started or even if they don’t respond right away or at all. I find that this site gives me a way to interact with others while being able to do my own thing and they get to in turn choose exactly how much of their time and attention they wish to give me, but they can always learn more about how I think and how I feel about things by looking through what I reblog or checking out my personal posts so they also have an idea of who they are talking to.
tumblr is a website that doesn’t ask me to fully identify myself, it doesn’t ask me to give you my first and last name, birth place, mothers maiden name, and my social security number; it asks instead for all the information you might need to start a budding friendship with someone, what am I into? What sort of things do I enjoy doing, engaging with, eating, listening to. This means you can latch onto any one aspect of those things and go “oh hey me too!” It helps break down intimidating walls and barriers.
I enjoy vtubing as a streamer because I don’t have to put MYSELF out there, I don’t have to be on camera, if I’m not having a great day and my hair is messy it doesn’t matter, if I don’t want to wear a shirt that’s okay too. However I still get to put everything that makes me who I am out there. I still share my opinions, I still play my favorite games, I still discuss my favorite music or joke around with my community.  It’s why I was offended on behalf of their viewers when a vtuber I was collabing with started outright ignoring the individuality of their audience distancing themselves harshly from the maybe 3 or 4 people who bothered to come out and support them.
I am not about to tell someone what boundaries they can or can’t set for themselves, but it does feel a bit rude to not give people the time of day, when they have given you theirs. It’s why I tell my community outright “the chat box is your domain, the live stream is mine; and all my streams are a collaborative effort between you and I to have a good time.” I once admitted on stream that the entire reason I enjoy streaming has nothing to do with the potential of fame or fortune but rather because it’s simply fun to feel like I’m sitting on a couch with good friends playing a game I enjoy and having everyone sitting on the couch with me going “wait who’s this Netzach guy? I thought we were talking to the Purple dude? I LEFT FOR 2 MINUTES AND NOW HE’S DEPRESSED” 
At the end of the day I’ve grown up as “the little guy” the person who didn’t have friends, the person who wasn’t good at music, art, or media; I’m not even great at playing video games or telling jokes. But what I am good at is treating people with genuine respect and kindness because I know all too well what it feels like to be judged by a number, whether it be your age, your follower count, or how much content you make. 
A friend of mine always tells me they feel a little sad when their art doesn’t get as many notes as they hoped it would; and we once had a discussion about how we have been conditioned by living on the internet to desire outside validation rather than being able to genuinely be happy with something. We have to not only be happy with the creation ourselves, but also see that others also deem it important and good, otherwise the imposter syndrome kicks in pretty hard.
I still remember when I once befriended a few people in an old mmorpg only to have their guild officer ask me why I was always hanging around with their guild, I explained that I was friends with some of the members and I felt like I fit in; he then told me I was an arrogant asshole and it’s something that stuck with me because I literally didn’t know the guy. Yet to this day I always favor putting myself down rather than building myself up, and tell people that “I used to be an arrogant asshole” which is funny considering I used to be, and still am; actually a very depressed idiot who just wants to make friends with people and has an extremely low self esteem. However whenever I try to feel confident or catch myself feeling good about myself I’m reminded that I’m just “an arrogant asshole” and that’s specifically why I’m careful about the company that I keep these days. 
That’s how the internet is, everything becomes a matter of “survival” where you feel a need to put yourself first even if it hurts others, and you might not even realize you’re doing it. It’s a sort of culture where we are so hardcore focused on “us vs them” that we have no idea that “they” are part of us, just a part we vaguely don’t agree with and therefore we divide ourselves off from. I have found that I walk a very fine line between “protect yourself and your mental health, block people who you don’t wish to interact with or who have wronged you, and never be afraid to set boundaries” and also “be kind to others and give everyone a chance because you never know if inviting a friendship today could be something you come to cherish in 10 years when you’re now very good friends with people all over the world all because you allowed yourself a moment of indifference and understanding.” 
On one hand I believe everyone deserves respect and to be heard and to be given the time of day, but much like how a streamer might distance themselves from their audience for the sake of setting boundaries; I cannot fault someone for being even overly cautious on the internet because I have surely been burnt far too many times for opening my arms to the wrong people and inviting friendship when I didn’t realize it would end in ruin. 
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ronnieiswriting · 3 years
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Sweet Dreams- Boxer!Paz x Baker!Freader
Inspired by the events of Foul (following straight after) and the Boxer Din AU created and written by the wonderful, amazing, brilliantly talented @djarinsbeskar! WC: 1,641 Tags: 18+, mentions of smut, its a smutty AU ya'll know the drill, sickeningly sweet fluff I have been driven to write this to deal with all my Paz thots- it will become very clear that I make up for the fact that I can't write hot smut by writing the softest shit. Excuse the lack of editing, also, its quite the mess x
After Din had stormed off with his “not-girlfriend” at Avika, Paz was more than ready to go home right then and there, thoroughly unwanting to deal with the feral frenzy that Din had stirred up in and out the ring. But there was no doubt that there would be more calls for blood. And even if that weren’t the case- even if Din wasn’t on the lists tonight- Paz had to stay.
It was his job after all. And one he enjoyed more often than not.
But when he thought about you, Paz’s priorities became trivial- like dust in the wind.
He hadn’t been dating you for long but he already knew that he was in deep. To Paz, you were the one that hung the stars in the sky; you, a hardworking baker with a smile that made his heart ache and hips that made his cock twitch. It was love, the realest he’d ever found, and every day he swore his gratitude to whatever force had sent him to you.
It was almost a taunt to watch Din leave Avika with his “not-girlfriend” tucked into his side- he’d been disqualified from any more fights that night but he couldn’t look any less content about it- when Paz had to stay behind with nothing but the thoughts of you waiting for him back at his place to keep him company.
To pass a bit of time between the words that were being exchanged between Boba and Din’s opponent’s trainer, Paz checked his phone- his mood instantly brightened when he saw a notification from you.
From: Sugar Cookie💖
Hey babe, I just got home. Did you feed Kitty yet? He’s begging me for food rn but I know he’s probs got a full belly and is just being a little gobble guts lol. sent 4:13am
I gave him a tinyyy bit of kibble to hold him over in case you didn’t. Kitty knows I can’t resist him. Sorry for messaging you at work btw. I know you’re busy xx Love you xx sent 4:19am
Paz checked the current time. 5:30am. Shit. He must’ve missed the buzz of the notification amidst the chaos. Usually, your shifts at the bakery ended closer to midnight but he knew you to be a hard worker, proud of the bakery you ran by yourself, and always likely to get caught up in a task until it was done to a high standard. It was just another thing for Paz to love about you.
His thumbs hovered over the reply box; you had probably already gone to bed, exhausted from your own long day of work. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you but he pushed past that doubt a second later, typing out a response, softened when he reread your messages about his kitten.
“Vizsla!” Boba’s voice pulled him back into reality. “Are you listening at all? This does concern you.”
Paz managed an easy half-lie, fingers tapping away as he switched contacts and began typing another message, “I’m sending Din a text- trying to figure out what started all this.”
When Paz finally did get home it was pushing 8am. Expecting to find you curled up in his bed, comfortably asleep, he was shocked to see you as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. You were propped up against a wall of cushions on his couch with a book resting in your lap and his kitten snoozing on your chest. Head thrown back and peacefully still, he could tell you were fast asleep.
Just the sight of you, the shape of your body outlined by the drape of the blanket that was thrown over you, your features illuminated by the warm light of the lamp, the splay of your hair over the pillows- just looking at you relieved him of so much of the stress he had carried home. His eyes traced over your form, picking out the dip and curve of your hips, and he was struck again with the amount of love he had for you. He still couldn’t believe how quickly he had developed such deep feelings for you but that fact made them no less sincere. The softness and simple intimacy (whether that be primarily sexual or emotional) that your company alone promised never ceased to amaze him.
Trying to be as quiet as he could manage, Paz shut the door behind him, put his backpack down by the door, and crossed the room to kneel down at your side. He considered leaving you there for the rest of the night- if he did he could go take a nap and then come back and wake you up by eating you out before making you breakfast- but ultimately he wanted to, needed to sleep next to you… and he couldn’t manage that on the couch.
He got the best sleep when you stayed the night, your chest made a far better pillow and your arms though relatively small provided him with so much warmth that he would be more than content to sleep without any covers (which happened sometimes when you hoarded the blankets).
Paz let out a silent sigh and reached out to stroke the hair away from your face. You stirred in response and he leaned in to press a kiss to your nose, “Hey, baby, it’s just me.”
You let out a soft moan, eyes scrunching up before blinking open, looking up at him blearily, “Paz~”
His heart could have burst at the sound of your gentle voice laden with sleep. Carefully so as not to disturb your place, Paz eased the book from your fingers. The exhaustion was palpable on your face, the weight of many hours of work pulling at the edges of your eyes. “I thought you’d be in bed by now.”
You eased yourself up on the cushions, one hand bracing the kitten against your chest. “I wanted to stay up for you. I didn’t mean to doze off.” Fuck. Paz was slipping his arms under you faster than you could process and when he stood you were tucked against his chest, kitten, blanket and all. You didn’t even seem bothered by the shift, curling your fingers into the neckline of his shirt. The simple touch drove him wild- the burn of your warm skin against his throat like a blowtorch- and the fact that you seemed oblivious to that only made him ache for you more.
When he had gotten you halfway to the bedroom you spoke again in that voice that threatened sleep, “I would've been able to stay up for you if I didn’t have to spend three hours on a last minute order for a wedding cake.”
Paz opened the door with his hip. “You don’t have to say yes to every job you know.”
“I know- but the couple was so sweet, I couldn’t say no. Plus they paid me double and half on top because of the short notice.”
He laid you out on the bed and replaced the throw blanket with his thick quilt, kitten moving to curl up beside your head on the pillow. The comfortable setting was luring you quickly to sleep again but you were still determined to see him next to you before you shut your eyes again fully. When he didn’t immediately join you, you frowned.
Paz eased the crease in your brow with a kiss there, “Don’t pout, sweetheart. I just gotta take a shower.” He could have skipped one for now, knowing you wouldn’t protest his sweaty skin, but he wanted to be rid of the flecks of blood that had stuck to him, everything that had stuck to him from that ring, before he touched you. You started to protest but Paz silenced you with a searing kiss to your lips, “I won’t be long, I promise.”
If he had thought you would be back asleep by the time he finished he was fooling himself. You scooched backwards on the mattress and petted the space you made in front, “come here.”
Paz went willingly, instantly. He eased back the covers and shuffled in next to you, clad only in a pair of boxers, hands instantly finding your skin to greedily palm the warmth that radiated from you. You cozied up to him just as naturally, arms wrapping around his neck so that he could tuck his face against the crook of your neck. With the covers pulled over the both of you, Paz felt surrounded by your presence and it calmed any remaining stress he had.
Although he had reprimanded Din for taking a violent approach to defending a woman’s honor, Paz couldn’t deny the fact that he’d be just as likely to take a similar action if anyone spoke about you like that- just thinking about those vile, entitled words directed at you made his jaw clench subconsciously. And yet just as soon as that anger stirred up in him, it dissipated again, soothed by the thump of your heart against his chest and the delicate fan of air you puffed over his damp skin.
He was reminded of the first time he told you he loved you; not long ago, in the middle of a good hard fuck when he had you by the hip, lost in the emotion of your eyes to the point where his confession had come out as a babble that became a mantra that he punctuated with each thrust of his hips. You had been on the verge of tears then, overstimulated and shaking, when you returned the words to him from your own lips: I love you too.
“I love you.” Paz whispered.
You snuggled against him tighter, a sleepy sigh escaping you when his hands ran up and down your sides. “I love you too.”
175 notes · View notes
ayamturd · 3 years
Text
bisexual│mcyt hc
warnings: small mentions of hate, fluff
prompt: (requested 1 & 2) “Hello uh I saw one of your posts about the dream smp reacting to you coming out so I was wondering if you haven't already done it can you do dream smp reacting to you coming out as bisexual?” 
“Hello yamturd so I was wondering if maybe you could do tubbo, Tommy and Ranboo reacting to reader coming out as bisexual or lesbian if you haven't already done it :)” 
pairings: irl platonic! dream, ranboo, tommy and tubbo ; c!technoblade
a/n: if i offend or misinterpret anything in this hc, please feel free to message and correct me otherwise. i will always try to correct or delete this post if asked so <33
sending my love to all those who identify as bisexual <33
wc: (1.5k) - m.list
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dream - 
considering his prideful personality sometimes, you probably wanted to play with his ego and drop subtle hints
not anything too obvious, but enough to make him kick himself when he realizes
though it was admittedly difficult since he plays into the dnf ship so much that he thinks you’re also joking more than half the time 
imagine you two were in a voice call one evening and randomly discussing the recent fanon and what would be funny to turn into canon (to mess with the fandom)
you’ve been recently shipped with two other content creators, both of opposing female and male gender, separately and together
“Honestly, I wouldn’t mind hitting that.” “Which one?” “Both.”
He’d laugh, but you didn’t.
“Wait, you’re serious? You actually identify as…?” “Bisexual. Yeah, I’m pretty sure anyway.” “Y/n, that’s amazing.”
takes pride in the fact that you trust him, but would feign being upset that you messed with him for as long as you did
be jokingly offended if he found out someone knew before him
“Wait…” “Yes?” “You told Bad??” “Yeah, he was one of the first.” “W— Why??”
It was your turn to laugh while he gawked in disbelief.
“It’s Bad! Of course I told him.” “… Fair enough.”
hate is a given, and he’ll always be there to support and defend you
he’ll always ask your permission before taking any action, however, because he respects you too much and knows you can fight your own battles
dream is someone will show relentless support, whether that be through words or moral support, he’ll always be there for you 
c!technoblade - 
i honestly feel like you never officially came out to techno
as you began to recognize yourself as bisexual, you slowly expressed yourself around him more openly to the point where he unconsciously knew
it’d probably would have hit him in the most random moment after months of assuming he knew
imagine you’re in the midst of battle when techno paused entirely with wide eyes 
“Y/n!” “What!?” “Are you gay??”
you would tease him when discussing your love life in one-sided conversations with him; him basically choosing to ignore you when you talk to him
“Honestly, Techno, how could you not want to hit that?” “Please, just stop.”
(i’ve written this before but will stand by this that) he truly doesn’t care for your sexuality
you’re a friend, someone he trusts and relies on, he doesn’t need to consider who you’re attracted to since he sees you for your skills and friendship
the only, and only time he is mindful of your sexuality depends on others unnecessary comments about it
the smp is a known judgement free land, but there will always be someone with ignorant opinions that he is always quick to shut down (or kill)
nothing much can be said besides the fact that you’ll always be y/n to him: a loyal friend and someone he would fight the world for
ranboo - 
oh sweet ranboo, dear ranboo
considering how openly supportive and kind he naturally is, you didn’t question the idea of telling him
i’d like to imagine that unlike most where you planned or waited to tell, the moment you knew, he would know soon after
imagine you called him before he began his lore stream to hype him up
you both were talking about more mundane things to calm his nerves as people joined when you brought it up
“Oh actually, before you start, I wanted to tell you something.” “Sure, what is it?” “Well, I— I’m Bisexual.” “…You’re tELLING ME THIS WHEN I’M ABOUT TO START MY STREAM??” “Y/n! I’m so happy for you, that’s amazing!”
he’s incredibly patient concerning how you wanted others to know or when you were ready to be completely out
similar to c!techno with the same beliefs you’re still y/n, and nothing has changed besides you coming out as yourself
he’s your go to when days are rough, because he knows how to help you understand you’re still loved as the same y/n and nothing less
“Hey, hey, listen to me. I love you, y/n. We all do, and you’ll never be alone when things get rough, alright?” (love /p)
knows how to silently deal with hate in his chat unless it becomes evident enough to address it (doesn’t want to bring attention to meaningless words until it becomes serious)
ranboo’s your rock and makes show that he’ll never believe anything other than that you deserve love
tommyinnit - 
as someone who took pride in defending the LGBTQ+ community, you had no hesitation when coming out to tommy
if any, your reluctance would come from accepting yourself to the point to be open with other people
it’s not as if he didn’t accept you, he could never imagine doing so in the slightest, but he probably wouldn’t know what to say initially
imagine you both were in the midst of playing bedwars together in a recording for a video
he had been busy gathering emeralds while you remained at the base, and the comforting silence gave you the confidence to blindly address it
“Hey Tommy?” “What, y/n? I’m in the middle of something right now.” “Oh, um, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.” “…” “…Tommy?” “…” “T— Tommy?”
it’d be dead quiet for a few seconds before you heard the noise of him rustling in realization
“Wait wait wait, you’re serious? You’re bisexual?” “Haha yeah, yeah, I am.” “WHA—!”
he was happy for you, to say the least
tommy loves to joke, and one he loved to make would be your attraction to both genders
you like women? pog!
you like men? a shame, honestly
if you were publicly out, his favorite bit would be to include you in his obnoxious swooning
imagine he was streaming while talking about his love for women
“Boys, honestly, the ladies just can’t resist me.”
The ding of discord notified you entering the call, the sound of your laughter immediately coming through.
“I agree, Tommy, I definitely agree.” “Y/n! You are attracted to women, and I am also attracted to women. You can agree women are amazing, yes?” “I can, Tommy. Women are indeed amazing.” “Good lad!” “Tommy, you do realize I’m not only attracted to w—” “Shush, we don’t speak of that.”
he showed his support by normalizing your sexuality, his acceptance quick and easily integrated into your lives
(this is getting long but—) tommy was well aware he lacked some knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community, but openly voiced his ignorance as a sign of awareness itself
he was always quick to correct either himself or others, he refused to accept slander of any type in his streams
would probably try to keep it light heartedly, but scold nonetheless
tommy was your figurative cheerleader, always there to include and uplift you, whether that be through the smallest gestures or loudest cheers
tubbo - 
poor tubbo
since he wasn’t the most careful with secrets, you probably withheld telling him till you were ready for most to know
this isn’t to deter anything of not trusting him, he’s still supportive and loving tubbo that wouldn’t dare do anything purposeful against you
if anything, you might have forgotten that he didn’t know when you were casually taking about it within a group
imagine you and Ranboo were trying to get him to sleep one early morning but gave up
you started talking about personal stuff and the topic of your love life came up, specifically the attraction to someone of the same gender
“I don’t know, Ranboo, I mean, I think I like them but at the same time I’m not sure.” “That’s fai—” “Wait, y/n. You’re gay??” “Bisexual, actually.” “WaAA—”
his very sleep deprived state was extremely happy and emotional for you
he’s like the little duckling with a knife, like he loves you completely but will try to hurt anyone that offends you
like tommy, he has no personal knowledge when being in the LGBTQ+ community but will solely learn for your sake
whether you’re younger or not, tubbo never fails to remind you that he looks up to you
he gives his all and won’t hesitate to provide in any way he can if needed
“You matter,” he’ll always say, “you’re important and no one else’s opinion matter.”
is proud to be your friend and expresses his platonic love in full, for you’re you and are so brave to be yourself despite all
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choosing not to tag my usual taglist just cause its a headcanon with a specific request <33 (huge ty to @basilly​ and @inniterhq​ though for the advice/motivation to finish this)
584 notes · View notes
misschifuyu · 3 years
Note
Can I get boyfriend headcanons (with nsfw) of Sanzu and Kokonoi? Also, I wanted to say I’m loving your blog and your writing! Thank you!
- hi there babe !! tysm im so so glad to hear that you like my blog omg ;; here are the hcs you asked for of the best boys ♡ 
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Sanzu and Koko boyfriend headcanons + n/sfw
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characters: sanzu haruchiyo + kokonoi hajime
genre: fluff + n/sfw
warnings: explicit content, orgasm denial, oral (both)
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Sanzu
so ive already done some relationship hcs for him, but there can never be too much sanzu content so we will continue from those already written
going on a date with sanzu won't be something particularly regular, however when circumstances come together to allow you to spend time with your boyfriend, he will definitely try and make up for the lack of outings
he's not someone who would enjoy a simple date in a café. sure, if you wanted to sit for a while in Starbucks, he will reluctantly tag along behind you
though he hasn't a clue what any of the ridiculous names on the menu mean
but you will find him growing bored quite quickly. so make sure to get him out of the coffee shop and find something else to do. shopping is a prime example, but other times sanzu likes to actually do something fun
that is, if you happen to pass by an arcade, prepare to be dragged into it
doesn't matter if you didn't have any change on you, this was a date after all, so sanzu will be more than happy to pay for the games
he's surprisingly - and, honestly, concerningly - good at those shooting games where you have a prop of a gun
you don't know where he got those skills from, but you figured it was probably best not to ask
he's shit at racing games though. he won't admit to a loss against you, ever
instead, it would always be because of a distraction or because the game itself was rigged
he can be quite the stubborn one at times
but if you took him out to get a snack, he'll completely forget about getting overlapped by you, several times, in the race.
he's got a sweet tooth, so anything of the sugary sort will bring his mood up
when you brought him a bundle of sweets for his birthday he practically proposed to you on the spot he was so happy
and he pays extra attention to whatever you show a liking towards. he stores away these pieces of information and will make use of them in moments you would least expect it
now...onto the spicy content
okay so I don't see sanzu being vanilla
he probably isn't as freaky as some would presume, but he definitely isn't just going to make love to you and call it a day
the thing about him is that he's impatient
if you start to tease him, be it with subtle kisses on his neck or passing your hand over a certain spot of his trousers, he won't only get riled up in a matter of seconds
he'll also just straight up pounce on you or drag you off to somewhere a little more secluded if you were in public
it drives him absolutely crazy if you happen to have long nails and leave scratches on his back
it lets him know that he is, indeed, making you feel like a million dollars just by using his body
and it just...he loves it
foreplay will very rarely involved receiving oral on his behalf; he likes to leave that for later
when your hair is a mess and you've got a fucked-out expression before even going down on him
it would be like a half-time, though you didn't really get to rest much during said time
he won't hold back by that point, so you'd always have to stabilise yourself with your hands on his thighs unless you wanted to choke on him
he will, however, go down on you before getting into the main act, as he liked to call it. he'd always praise you on how good you taste
looking down to see his piercing eyes staring back up at you, the scars beside his mouth showing ever so slightly..
it was a sight you couldn't keep up for very long as your strength would falter at movements of his tongue
when it comes to positions, sanzu usually likes to be in one that will allow you to hang onto him for dear life as he pounds into you
he also loves taking you from behind, but only because it allows him to pull you back by your hair and whisper the filthiest words you have ever heard his mouth speak
"you like that? huh?...I figured as much from a slut such as yourself, now keep those noises coming before I make you scream even louder, babe"
bruises on your knees would always show up if he decided to keep you on all fours for the whole time
and he wouldn't always let you have the privilege of being on the softness of a bed
no, he'd do you anywhere
so be sure your wearing some easy fitting clothes
just so you don't have to struggle whilst putting them back on after making his car windows steam up in the middle of a parking lot
just before a meeting with bonten, no less
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Koko
same as sanzu, ive written a few hcs for him too, but we shall do a few more bc koko supremacy
right so...hair
so we all know that koko styles his hair and it looks quite pleasing to the eye, what with the half of his hair flowing down at the side of his face
now, what you didn't know is that koko gets up pretty early to be able to sport this look for the whole day. we're not talking 8am, no. 5:30am, the reason completely unknown to even you, his partner
he would wake you up once, having slept over at his place, as much as he tried to slip his arm from under you as carefully as he could
wondering what on earth he was doing, you would get up at trace his footsteps to his bathroom, seeing him with a comb in his hand at an abnormally large pot of hair cream on the sink
he hadn't expected you to wake up, but he would quickly invite you to sit on the toilet seat upon hearing you ask what he was doing
from that moment on, you would always ask to try and style his hair whenever you stayed over, or even just play with it
admittedly, he loves the feeling of your fingers run through his hair as you'd try your best to make it look just as perfect as it always did
it would fail, the first few times, which would result in you just putting it up into a side ponytail cue jojo siwa reference
all in all, though, he quite enjoyed it whenever you'd play with his hair, so you were more than welcome to do so
as a result, he would ask about your hair routine or, if you didn't really have one, your skincare routine
he'd always be amazed at your smooth skin whenever he held your face to give you a kiss
so you'd best drop him the tips and tricks
some weekends, the two of you would do a sort of spa day, where you'd both shower - or bathe, depending on how motivated you felt - and run through haircare and skincare together
koko really liked the facemasks you'd bring over whenever you did this, especially when you would struggle to put in on your face because they could sometimes be a little tricky
think of it as a cute, couple's day off, which he would always look forward to at the end of the week
but he'd never admit this to anyone, not a chance
onto the n/sfw side of this man...
much like sanzu, he's not a vanilla person. but he does have his fair share of kinks
orgasm play is right at the top of said list. he absolutely loves to be fully in control, and watching you writhe around each time he'd bring you close to your high, he'd take his hand, or anything else, away from where you'd most need him
his stare would always turn slightly darker when he'd see you before him, at his mercy and covered in sweat, and he wished he could capture the moment forever
he's give you a good three to four failed orgasms until he would let up his teasing act, but not before he'd get you to beg for him
it would always send shivers down his spine when he'd watch your almost tear ridden eyes look up at him, pleading for him to just give in already
"I don't know...you just look so pathetic each time I do it, I almost want to just leave you here and let you get off by yourself"
his sly smile would always stick with you as he'd utter out any words to you, right before giving you one last swipe of his hand between your legs and bringing you towards him
as much as he would usually be the one in charge, loving how you'd feel around him and making the bed creak with every thrust, if you tried hard enough you could turn the tables
he'd be a bratty sub, mind you, but watching him come undone beneath you will be worth the struggling to actually get him in that position
whenever you'd ride him, his hands would always be roaming the curves of your body, trying to get ahold of as much of you as he could
it would be a way to try and get back into control, but as soon as you'd squeeze around him, he'd fall back into his almost helpless state
but, back to him being the one pounding into you, expect him to bring you as close to him as possible
one of his favourites is bringing you up from being on all fours up to his chest, watching you struggle as you try to stay upright as he'd suck the skin on the back of your neck
"so much for being in control, you pathetic whore"
you never got out of there with functioning legs, that much was true
444 notes · View notes
chiwhorei · 3 years
Text
𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭
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cross-posted to Ao3!
pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader
genre: smut, 18+ mdni
word count: ~4.4k
tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited
a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come. 
the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani
hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich
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and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy
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A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 
You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 
It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.
How the fuck did you get here?
***
You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.
“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.
Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget. 
“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots. 
“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.
You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing. 
“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.
Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space. 
“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.” 
You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance. 
Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West
The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.
 You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest. 
He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”
“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.
He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil. 
“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.
“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.” 
“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.
The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.
You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.
The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.
“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.
You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.
“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”
If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle. 
“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.
Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.
“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.
“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--
“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.
You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins. 
“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”
A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.
Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.
“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.
You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.
“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”
You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--
“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.” 
That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet. 
You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back. 
“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”
“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~” 
“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.” 
The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.
Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice. 
* * *
The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.
Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.
You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.
Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming. 
 Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.
Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.
His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding. 
Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.
His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.
 All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.
He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention. 
Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines. 
He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.
Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?
All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.
Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.
“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?” 
You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?
You do. Against any better judgement, you do. 
He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke. 
Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--
The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.
Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.
You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough. 
His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.
“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”
His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.
He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.
You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.
Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.
Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.
His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck. 
He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.
The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.
Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.
You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil. 
He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago. 
To please Issei.
He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color. 
Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.
He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.
The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs. 
Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.
The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.
The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.
* * *
You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into. 
A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash. 
You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills. 
It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head--
“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do. 
Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back. 
“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap.  Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome. 
What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges. 
When was the last time you felt this alive? 
He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map. 
And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.
You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.
“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?” 
Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.
You don’t.
Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls. 
“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.
“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”
Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.
Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.
His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood. 
You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.
“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.” 
A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses. 
Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.
Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.
You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.
“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?” 
Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.
Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.
“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.
You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.
He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.
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all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️
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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years
Text
•Porcelain Obsession•
Summary: Tamaki has a problem, a bad problem. He's obsessed, he's desperate, and he'll do whatever it takes to have you the way he wants you.
Pairing: Pro Hero Yandere Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (both 18+)
Warnings: Yandere, stalking, noncon voyeurism, mild manipulation and sabotage, mild coercive behavior, male masturbation, panty theft, male ejaculation, cum eating. It's just real graphic, strap in.
A/N: I am hopeless, this will have a second part that will be so much more sinful with gratuitous tentacle content. Just tagged those that interacted with the posted about this fic as usual. This little series was inspire by a tiktok I saw, and I'm literally writing it for the sake of putting one zinger of line in it lol.
Playlist
https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJbubhQN/
Word Count: 4,184
Part Two: Love Me Tender
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Stunning, astounding, enchanting. You're an angel, you have to be. That's the only explanation for the way you shine, surrounded by some ethereal glow.
Tamaki Amajiki has a problem. No, it's not a problem, it's completely normal to fall in love, he's under a spell. He can't be blamed for it, he never stood a chance. Although, most people would call this a problem, but only people who don't understand.
An ignorant person would have seen him watching you from around the corner for weeks, following you to your house after work under the cover of darkness, and finally, finally getting a glance into your window at night and label him as obsessed or disturbed. He should have felt dirty for that, but he didn't, not even close. He felt almost holy.
He felt like some chosen follower that was allowed to witness a sacred ritual. He watched you all evening with immeasurable reverence. He took note of the way you ate, how intently you read, but his favorite part was watching you settle into your bed and fall asleep.
As soon as he saw it the first time, it became an addiction. Watching your body curl around your pillow, clutching the fabric as you snuggled into it. How sweet you looked, so soft, so innocent. It made his chest ache, it made him feel starved. He had to have you, smell you, feel you.
That was nearly three months ago. Now, he watches you every chance he gets. The days he doesn't get to, he feels like a pitiful addict going through withdrawal. He has to at least speak with you, know your voice, see your skin up close.
During his patrol around the city he comes to the conclusion that it has to be today. He feels like he's losing breath without knowing you, captured by your existence but suffocated by the distance. He will have you, he will do whatever it takes.
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
At your age, you should at least have a friend or two, maybe go out on friday, possibly even work another job. None of that ever seems worth it, not worth the time or the money or the effort to pretend you enjoy it. Here you stay, stuck somewhere in between discontent for your situation and the refusal to do anything about it.
You only have a half hour left of your shift, everyone else has gone home and you’ve been left to do dishes and lock up, as usual. You huff and puff around the shop as you complete the final closing tasks. Anybody else could have stayed and closed, they probably should have too, considering how often you shut down by yourself so they can all go home.
Naturally, you jumped at the opportunity to stay late, where else are you going to go? Certainly not on a date or out with friends. You feel slightly better about making money while you burn the hours away, so you always end up here.
The sun has set already, leaving the illumination of the shop to the awful fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s all so mundane, so simple, so dreadfully boring.
Then the bell above the door jingles.
You roll your eyes and throw your rag into the sink, the sign says closed. Why don’t people read? You huff out of the kitchen and into the serving area.
“Hey, sorry but we’re closed right now, we open again tomorrow-” You freeze, it can’t be him, it has to be some cosplayer, some wannabe.
“I’m sorry, I just- my phone died while I was on patrol and I needed to call my boss to let them know I was finished for the day. I was hoping there would be a phone in here that I could use.” His voice is so timid, so unsteady. It doesn’t sound anything like you would imagine the voice of a pro hero to sound.
You try to stay uninvolved with any hero business, all of the flashy quirks and the gossip and the drama. The theater of it bores you to tears, and you lack respect for anyone that uses their ability to save lives as a tool for gaining popularity. You find most heroes to be so incredibly irritating. Most of them, except one.
Suneater, the emerging pro hero that has been the focus of all of your thoughts lately. You've only seen glimpses of him in the news, seen his face on the back page of a magazine, or heard his name from other people. Any evidence of his existence rapidly became precious to you. You are not some hopeless fangirl, you do not collect merchandise or follow him around and beg for autographs.
You admire him, his subtlety, how genuinely different he is from all the other heroes. He isn’t some attention whore, he isn’t some pretty boy that’s always posing for fan service. His quirk is so unique and powerful, unparalleled by any hero on the charts right now. He’s a real hero, and so much of you wanted him to be your hero.
There he stands, right in front of you, in your shop, asking you for help. He’s far more beautiful than you could have possibly anticipated. He’s all porcelain skin and inky hair, deep indigo eyes pear out from under his magnificent hood. He stands so tall, yet comes across so reserved. He’s spectacular, he’s an angel, he has to be.
“Of- of course, it’s in the back, follow me.” You say, motioning for him to come around the corner with you as you tuck back into the kitchen.
“Thank you, this is very kind of you.” He says as he follows, cape swishing behind him as he moves. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know, how badly he wants to take you into his arms and finally know what your body feels like against his, how he wants to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. If he could get away with it, he would, oh how he would feel every inch of you. He can’t though, not yet. He has to be careful, he has to be smart.
I will have her, and she’ll have me.
“It’s no problem, it sucks to be stuck without a phone. I’m happy to help.” You say as you round the corner to your shop’s makeshift break room.
It’s not even a room really, just a corner tucked away with a phone on the wall and a few chairs around a cheap foldable table.
You turn to him and motion to the phone awkwardly, heat settling in your chest and all over your skin. Your heart races and you can feel your palms turning wet.
“Take as much time as you need, did you uh- are you hungry?” You ask, “I’m technically closed, but I can only imagine how hungry you are after a whole day patrolling, I could throw something together for you?”
God, you’re so sweet.
“Oh no, you d-don’t need to do that, I can eat at home.” He insists, your mind fixates on the way he stutters, the way his eyes dart down and his feet shift as he talks.
“I would like to. Please? If you’ll let me?” You say softly, heart pounding even faster when he shifts towards you slightly.
How perfect you are, already asking for permission…
“Are you sure, I really don’t want to create more work for you.” He says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His gaze makes it hard to swallow, he looks at you so intently, you almost feel like you don’t have enough clothing on.
“No! I promise you won’t be. You’d also be missing out on the best takoyaki around if you didn’t let me, and that would be a tragedy.” You say, trying to entice him with your bold claim.
“Well I g-guess, if you put it that way.” He offers you a trace of a smile.
“I’ll get started while you make your call.” You say as you move to squeeze past him in the narrow hall. As you slide by, there’s a brief, precious moment where you stand inches from each other. You don’t dare look up at him as you skate by, You know your legs will fail you if you meet his eyes while standing so close, and you can’t risk the embarrassment of dropping to your knees in front of a stranger, even if he is a hero,
He doesn’t say a word, simple stalks towards the phone as you glide down the rest of the hallway and into the kitchen.
You slip into autopilot in the kitchen, your brain is far too fixated on the fact that Suneater is down the hall, in your shop, using your phone. You clink around some pans, prepare the octopus meat and the batter and get to work. You can’t overhear him talking to anyone with all the noise you’re making, you almost want to apologize for being so noisy.
Your mind settles on thinking about how beautiful he is, how strong he looks, how easily he could overpower anyone… especially you. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, it shouldn’t, but holy hell it does.
Out of the corner of your eye you see him come into the kitchen, you immediately start to berate yourself for thinking that way about him. He’s a hero, he would never be interested in something like that with someone like you.
“I think the phone is down, do you maybe have a- a cell phone i could use?” He seems almost ashamed of the question, it makes your chest ache.
“Shit, that line is always being funny. I’m sorry, but I left my cell this morning.” You say, flipping the takoyaki around in their tray so they’ll cook evenly.
“I live just across the street though, I can run and grab it while you eat.” You say, desperate to help him in any way you can.
I know you’re just across the street.
He just shakes his head and bunches his cape in his fists, a very faint blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes your heart do summersaults.
“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing t-too much for me. You don’t need to make the extra t-trip, I can just call my boss when I’m home”
“Really, it’s not too much, if you’re worried about the extra trip you can just walk me home and use it when we get there. I imagine you would need to call as quickly as possible and get somebody on patrol now that you’re off.” You say, catching yourself a little when you sound too desperate.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” As he talks, he shuffles so he can press himself up into the corner of the kitchen, almost looking like he wants to melt into the wall.
“Well, considering your occupation is literally saving people, I definitely don’t feel uncomfortable, it’s not like you’re some crazy kidnapper.” You chuckle a little as you plate up the takoyaki. You try not to give attention to the twisted thoughts that enter your mind when you mention the kidnapping, pushing down the desire to be taken away from the colorless life you live.
If you only knew how badly I want to take you, to have you, keep you…
“I guess you have a p-point.” He says, taking the plate with a soft thank you. He starts stuffing his face with the spheres of breaded octopus immediately, letting a small content sigh leave his body.
“This is incredible, thank you, um, can I ask what your n-name is?” That damn stutter is going to turn your bones to jelly.
You say your name quietly, he responds by repeating it back to you, like he’s checking the pronunciation. You just nod as you open the fridge and pull out a gallon of green tea so you can pour him a glass.
“T-Tamaki, my name’s Tamaki Amajiki.” He says with his shy voice.
A warm, invasive feeling spreads through you. You have to remain calm, pretend that his real name is news to you, pretend that you haven’t spent hours searching through fanfictions listed under that name.
You chat as he finishes his food, thanking him as he mumbles compliments about you cooking in between bites. It doesn’t take long for him to take down the plate. He thanks you over and over as you clean the rest up. He stays glued to his spot in the corner until you take your apron off and hang it on the rack with the others.
“Alright, let’s get you to that phone.” You say as you grab your keys off the hook and switch the lights off.
When you turn to look at him the breath is stolen from your lungs immediately. He looks so celestial in the dark, somehow glowing in the dark. He’s stunning, he’s perfect, he’s painfully out of your league. You remind yourself of that last fact in order to still your nerves.
You turn on your heels and walk towards the door as quickly as you can without seeming rushed. He follows silently, the heavy sound of his thick cloak floating around him makes the hair on your neck stand up. He even sounds powerful.
After you exit the building, he stands with his back to you as you lock the door. His stance is protective, surveying the streets around you like a real hero. You can’t let it go to your head, it’s not for you specifically, he would do this for anyone, it’s his job.
The walk to your house isn’t really uncomfortable, but it is tense. The energy between you is painfully obvious, just not to each other. You both want to speak, ask about each other, know each other, but neither has the guts to make the first move.
While you walk, Tamaki’s head is constantly on a swivel, and he stays so very close to you. It makes your chest ache, the feeling of being so safe next to such an intimidating man. Nobody would dare approach you with him next to you. You would damn near kill to have this all the time, if not all the time at least as often as possible.
You arrive at your house after not even two minutes of tension filled strolling. Silently, cautiously, you both enter your home after you unlock the door.
"It's so cozy." Tamaki says immediately upon seeing all of the soft lights and pastels that make up your decor. He’s nearly trembling with excitement from finally being able to see inside your little world. After watching from the outside for so long, he can finally learn more about you.
"Oh, thanks, I try to keep it soft looking in here. It helps me decompress after a day at a busy restaurant." You explain, setting your keys in their dish before leading him down the hallway to the kitchen.
The house is nothing special, a simple little single bedroom, one story with a relatively open floor plan. It’s small but easy to afford and keep clean. It works for you.
“I’ll go grab the phone from my room, feel free to sit down.” You say, gesturing at the two chairs on either side of your tiny breakfast nook.
He just nods quietly, taking small glances around the rest of your house. You find his hypervigilance charming. It makes you feel incredibly secure to know he’s so aware of his surroundings.
You walk off to your bedroom then, leaving him to stand in your dimly lit kitchen.
Instantly, his eyes zero in on the laundry basket full of clothes that’s sitting on your counter. His body moves without his mind’s permission, his heart thrums in his chest once he catches something pink and lacy.
He can’t help but think you’ve done it on purpose, like you’re some spider sitting up in your web waiting for a poor little bug to stumble along and get all caught up. He’s more than willing to be that bug, and so desperate to get caught up.
He grabs the fabric quickly, as it unravels in his hands he sees what it is and his breathing stops.
It’s a pair of underwear, your underwear.
His fingers go all twitchy as he shoves his hood off to expose his pointed ears, wanting to be able to hear your footsteps.
He brings the panties and takes a deep breath in.
They’re not clean.
He has to choke back the noise that threatens to escape when he finally smells the intoxicating aroma. You smell so fucking sweet. His body reacts instantaneously, goosebumps raise on his flesh as he’s dick twitches in his pants.
God he feels dirty, but why should he? You lead him in here, after cooking for him and being so kind. You left this little gift out for him, you had to know what you were doing.
The sound of soft footsteps jolts him back to reality. He shoves the underwear deep into one of his pockets, he’ll keep them as long as he can, preferably forever.
“Sorry it took me a minute, I’m constantly misplacing everything. One of those ‘lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me’ kind of people.” You give a half hearted laugh, which he returns with a cute little chuckle as he takes your phone.
“Oh sorry about the laundry, I’m a bit of a mess today.” Hot embarrassment fills you as you grab the basket of dirty clothes off the counter and hoist it onto your hip.
“Don’t be sorry, you weren’t expecting any visitors.” He assures you, voice soft and soothing.
“I’ll run this to my room and give you some privacy.” You say, turning once again to leave him alone.
As soon as you’re out of the room his shoulders drop and he lets out a quaking breath. Having you so close after filling his mind with your smell pushed him to the very limit. He wants to grab you and lay you out on the counter, rip your pants off and shove his face between your thighs. He wants to drown in every smell and taste you can offer him. He wants to gorge himself on your sweet little cunt.
He can’t think straight. He’s fully hard, his skin is boiling and his mind is fuzzy. He has to get out of here, he has to get to somewhere hidden, Somewhere he can fuck his fist and think of playing with your soft body. Maybe, just maybe, if he stuffs your panties in his mouth he can taste a trace of you.
When you return he says a very quick goodbye, says something about stopping by your shop again so he can see you again. He doesn’t know for sure what words he uses, he’s too focused on getting out before you notice his erection, before you smell the shame wafting off of him in thick waves.
He has to go before he makes a mistake, before he ruins all of his plans.
You follow him to the door to let him out, bidding him goodnight with your gentle, enchanting voice.
You’ll never know that the phone at the restaurant worked fine, that he never even had to call Fatgum. You’ll never know that he stole from you, that he almost lost it and took you home with him. You won’t ever know that he’s not going home now that he’s left your home.
Urgently, he swoops around the corner of your house, heading straight for your bedroom window. His pants feel so tight it’s maddening, he’s frantic, he’s slipping.
As soon as he reaches the bedroom window, his favorite window, he slumps against the building with one arm as the other shoots down to his pants. He takes a quick glance around, noting that the lights in the surrounding buildings are all out given the hour.
He should be safe.
Then you walk into your room, the image of you is distorted slightly by the white sheers you have up, but only slightly, only enough to make you look like some fuzzy apparition.
She uses these curtains on purpose, she wants me to see.
You have no interest in showering tonight, now exhausted and confused. Did you say something wrong? Why did he take off like that? He did say he would see you tomorrow, though, which gives you a bubbly feeling.
You strip your clothes off, and it shreds Tamaki’s last ounce of self control.
You little fucking tease.
You undress until you’re left in your simple white underwear.
Tamaki’s hand is in his pants the second you crawl into bed. He grabs his aching length, thumbing at his head as he watches you shuffle around in the blankets. His mouth waters when he sees your collar bones, his breath hitches when he sees the way your stomach rolls when you sit. He starts to stroke himself slowly when you leave one leg out of your blankets.
His chest rises and falls rapidly as he remembers the precious gift in his pocket.
He snatches the panties out as he watches you move, as he zeroes in on the meat of your thigh. He shoves the fabric of the crotch into his mouth and bites. He bites your panties like he wants to bite your delicious looking legs.
His hand jerks more rapidly as the faintest flavor spreads across his tongue. His cheeks are pink and his eyes start to tear up as he trembles from the euphoria of knowing you this intimately. His hips thrust into his fist as he claws at the panites, pulling the fabric tight as he watches you drift off to sleep.
His mind races through every possible way he would take you. How he would ruin and claim every inch of you. The idea of you shaking beneath him, moaning his name so sweetly, begging him to keep going, maybe begging him to stop, it makes him want to break down the window.
He tongues at your panties, wishing he could swallow your slick. He feels so unbelievably envious of the fact that the fabric in his mouth has been so close to your perfect little hole. The thing he wants to taste the most, feel the most, fuck the most.
His hand tightens around his dick as he tries to imagine how tight you would feel around him. He rips your panties out for just a brief second so he can spit down into his palm, wrapping it around his cock the second the spit reaches his skin.
“Shit- fuck- shit- fucking love you.” He chokes out as his eyes stay locked on your body.
Once the panties are back in his mouth, the free hand flattens against the window.
Then you shift, hips rolling gently as you adjust your position, exposing your cute little ass to him.
“Slut- bad little slut.” He huffs out as he claws at the window. He feels his balls start to seize up as he focuses on his swollen head, fucking it as fast as he can whle he imagines you with your head buried in the pillows as you stick your ass in the air for him.
He tears the panties out of his mouth and holds the crotch of them in front of his dick, drool slips over his bottom lip as he lets out a high, broken moan while he starts to spill into them.
His body quakes and shivers as he squirts rope after rope of hot cum into his stolen prize. Tears wet his cheeks while drool soaks his chin as he strokes himself through his climax.
He chants your name over and over again, watching the way his seed ruins your pretty little panties. In his orgasmic haze, he brings the panties back to his mouth full of his own release, he laps it up as he eyes roll to the back of his head, pretending he’s made you cream yourself, pretending he’s tasting you instead.
It’s filthy, it’s depraved, but he doesn’t care, he needs it, he’d die without it. He swallows the rest of his own cum down with a greedy whine as he watches your perfect form lay there so peacefully.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there, how many more times he fucks his hand while he watches you sleep, only to leave himself covered in sweat and cum and shame. Somehow, he finds himself walking away, as much as it hurts, he knows he can't indulge himself all night.
Once he’s finally home, he collapses, body buzzing and addicted. He sleeps with your soiled panties clutched in his fist. He wakes up with one thought on his mind, he needs more.
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Text
Restraint
Summary: You and Nagito's flirtations are sickening. Izuru still sees himself as a cure. As per usual, he only makes things worse.
Word count: 5.2k
Content Warnings: Uneven Power Dynamics, Under-Negotiated Kink, Possible Dubcon, Dom/Sub, Spanking, Bondage, Choking, Mentions of Sickness, Degradation, Slut Shaming, Sex As 'Punishment', Slight Breeding Kink, Orgasm Denial, Female Reader, She/Her Pronouns
General Themes/Tags: Despair!Era, Despair!Reader, Sub!Reader, Sub!Nagito, Dom!Izuru, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism
Ao3 Link
A/N: Reader is a slut and Komaeda's a freak what can I say... also I'm sorry for doing this before requests but no I'm not I'm busy writing smut <3
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Izuru found that there was indeed a certain kind of beauty to the handiwork of his knots. The candy-apple red rope, the color of the ruined sky, the color of his chemically altered eyes, the color of her nails, the color of despair, looked rather fetching when tied around Nagito’s pale wrists. His green-blue veins ran under it, visible through his sickly, translucent pale skin. Izuru could smell the cancerous cells on his breath alone. Just like a dog! A voice in his head that sounded just like hers sounded. Just like a dog, his own voice repeated.
“Enoshima tells me that your… indecision and cowardice..." Izuru droned as he circled around the uncomfortable, between the wooden chair Nagito was bound to and the edge of bed (Y/N) sat on. Unlike the rest of the ‘rooms’ the rest of the Despair were afforded in their base, which were really much more like modified holding cells, Izuru’s room was fitted with a regular queen-sized bed with threadbare sheets. He didn’t mind the sheets, but he wouldn’t have minded staying in a holding cell like the rest of them either. He wouldn’t have minded any of it.
“Has affected the operations of all of the Despair.” He glowered down at them, the shadows on his face looming even darker from their seated positions. Izuru caught her hands fidgeting in her lap, and how Nagito’s ever-twitching leg began to bounce even faster. “How pathetic.” He said of both their actions and reactions. The woman flinched visibly. Nagito’s leg stilled. “You are both acting like children. Simpering after each other expends so much of your time that you’ve managed to become even more useless to us than before as you fail to complete assigned tasks.” He crossed the room to stand right in front of (Y/N). Though all of his steps were light- in the way only the Ultimate Assassin, or Spy, or Ninja, and or the countless other multitudes of titles he fit aptly could be- or rather, perhaps because of this, both of their throats bobbed with a heavy swallow.
“Therefore,” His voice was quiet, but in the otherwise silent room, his two captives could hear him clearly. He placed his hand on her cheek. It was such a foreign movement from him, so calm, so sudden, that she almost gasped from it alone. It was much warmer than she expected. She realized as he stood over her, his well-fitted suit accentuating the already sharp angles of his perfect posture, his clothes heavy with the smoky scent of the fires blazing outside, his eyes indecipherable, that he was so much warmer than she expected. He thought idly that he could name every muscle in her face that tensed under his fingers. “You have been left to my discretion.”
“Ah, of course!” Nagito finally gushed, breaking the tension between the other two at once. Both of their heads snapped to look at the shaking, beaming man. He seemed to be enamoured with simply the prospect. His arms twitched and pulled at his bonds, but he had no intention of attempting escape. He merely forgot in his excitement that he could not hold himself. “I see no fate fitting more for my dearest- to be left to the hands of the Ultimate Hope- to be graced with Kamukura-sama’s presence, his touch-” He uttered a little moan, his eyes fluttering for just a bit. “For him to have already tied me up like the pathetic little vermin I am… He could truly do as he wishes with us...” Nobody in the room was surprised at his reaction, however, (Y/N) was a bit amused that he had shown his true colors as a fanatic quite so quickly. “Whatever despair he induces can only be overcome by the hope you two inspire by nearly being around me!” His eyes finally seemed to focus back onto his lover. They seemed to warm just by looking at her, a detail that sent an unfamiliar rush through her. If he had looked at her before, she had only just noticed, and was still unused to such… vulnerability nowadays. She quickly looked away. “I can only imagine what you must be feeli-”
“Enough.” Izuru finally snapped. Nagito silenced at once. He immediately schooled his expression into one of subtle pleasure. His naturally heavy-lidded eyes seemed almost heated in the particular situation. “This inane drivel is precisely the sorts of issues we’ve been having,” Izuru finally brought up his other hand, which contained an identical rope to the one wrapped around Nagito’s wrist like the perfect present. “And you’ve done little to end it.”
(Y/N) found that she had trouble looking at the red of Izuru’s eyes or the rope in his hands. Both cultivated more of the sickening feeling in her gut, the overwhelming dread that conjured images of Izuru idly pressing his foot down onto her fingers holding the edge of a cliff, supporting both her and Nagito’s weight. It felt like bile rising in her throat, only creeping further as she caught glances of either. As Izuru held the rope in front of her face, a wordless taunt, she refused to break her gaze. She wanted to rot in the feeling.
“Turn.” Izuru ordered. She knew at once it would be the first of many tonight. Though she had watched Izuru carefully as he bound Nagito, it was nothing compared to how despair-inducing it was to feel her miniscule chances of escaping reduce to less than nothing. Her breathing grew heavier as she felt those sure hands tie one knot, then two, then three, until she purposefully lost count of how many loops there were around her wrists. Every time his knuckles brushed against her arms, her pulse points, she wondered more and more if it was truly an accident. She had never known the Ultimate Hope to be capable of accidents. When he finished, the silence rang heavy in her ears. She had foolishly half-expected to hear praise, to hear the words ‘good girl’ fall from his lips.
“Pathetic.” He repeated instead, sending both her and Nagito’s teeth deeper into their own lips. She felt it deeply, kneeling on the bed, her back to the man she knew held her life in his hands, the man she cared for so deeply privy to every little thing that would be done to her without being able to do anything. The feeling in her stomach had begun to sink lower and lower, though it felt much more heated. She was a fool, but not a naive one. Izuru always knew what he was doing, including what tone he was setting. She felt her own legs begin to shake. “I’m sure by now the two of you understand where this is going. Bend over.”
She obliged like it was second nature. She obeyed like it might as well have been her own thoughts asking. She bent over and stuck her ass up and face into the mattress, right in front of Izuru, with a speed that surprised most of the room. Izuru, however, remained unfazed. He almost seemed to expect it. Her whole body felt hot, displayed like this for Izuru and subsequently Nagito. She knew he could see her panties he could see below her short skirt. She’d taken to wearing much skimpier clothes recently, especially when she began her… affair with Nagito. Despite herself, she wondered if he enjoyed them. He wouldn’t have been the first. She liked it when it was hard for people to touch her without coming in contact with her skin.
“Let this serve as a reminder to the both of you.” Izuru said behind her. She wondered how much closer he’d have to get to feel the vibrations of his deep voice. “None of you have any room for affection in you. You wouldn’t be with our association if you could. You saw how easily she bent over for me. You’re nothing special, Komaeda, she would take it from anyone if she could.” He paused. She didn’t even get to wonder why before her head was grabbed and roughly turned to the side so she was looking directly at Komaeda. His face was flushing, beginning to turn the red color of so many things around him, giving into the situation. Though his mouth was slightly agape as he took the scene before him, he seemed to be at a complete loss for words. She’d never seen him like this before. “Do you see how aroused he is at this? How eager he was for me? He’s much the same. You two are, for lack of a better word, whores. Easy-” He didn’t get to finish his sentence, as both of the other two released small moans at his words. (Y/N) thighs clenched as she tried her hardest not to back her eager body back up against him. Nagito rocked his own back and forth, attempting to find friction against his growing erection. Izuru sighed. “Precisely.”
With no other warning, he shoved her panties down her hips. A string of her slick connected them for just a second, quickly severed with no regard from Izuru. Nagito stopped rocking. He stared, mouth agape, at her now exposed pussy. She couldn’t even tell him to stop looking. She didn’t want him to stop looking. Behind her, she heard the familiar sound of a belt unbuckling. Once again, instinct took over, and she spread her legs further for him. The fabric of his pants and underwear rustled as he pulled them down just enough to pull his cock out and stroke it.
“Wow.” Nagito muttered, looking all for the world like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow- t- to bear witness to this- to-”
“You will speak only when spoken to from here on out, Komaeda.” Izuru said without even looking up at him. Nagito swallowed hard. Behind his chair, he pulled ever so slightly at his restraints. Izuru rubbed the head of his cock up and down her lips, spreading her slick around. (Y/N)’s head finally dropped back down, looking away from Nagito, as she tried hard to not let any more noises escape her. Even if she knew Izuru could feel her desperate arousal in her heavy breathing, the way she wiggled and pressed into him, her fingers trembling in front of him, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting it consciously escape her mouth.
“Be honest, (L/N)...” Izuru’s words were so gentle and soft that she knew at once that whatever sharp insult he would throw at her would make up for it. “Tell Komaeda about every Remnant’s cock and fingers you’ve had in your pussy.” She gasped at once, her eyes widening, but as the focus fell heavy on what she would say next, denial escaped hers. She could feel Komaeda’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t even bring herself to look into his eyes. Guilt and shame that she had never felt about her previous dalliances before were searing in her stomach. “Not to mention the people you’ve taken on the outside.” All the while, his cock continued to move back and forth over her hole, never pressing any further. Teasing her, seeing how much she could take. “How many?” He asked rhetorically. “Two dozen? More?”
The enticing idea that it was Izuru’s cock didn’t escape her. It was one of the many details that had made her so wet so quickly. She couldn’t believe that someone so singularly powerful and superhuman was even giving her thought. She couldn’t believe that he had taken the time to notice how big of a slut she was. Nagito wasn’t alone in his obsession with Izuru, she was merely better at hiding it.
“What does it matter?” She spat. A cruel smirk that only Nagito could see crossed her face. “Angry they got to me before you d-” She was interrupted as Izuru’s swift hand came down to firmly squeeze the sides of her throat, literally choking her on her words. Her labored, raspy breathing echoed through the room at once. Next to them, Nagito whimpered, but continued to bite his tongue. Under furrowed brows, his eyes flicked quickly between Izuru’s unyielding face and his hand around her throat. Nonetheless, his smile remained on his face.
“You’re actually less insufferable when you’re just moaning.” Izuru noted. Her eyes rolled back into her head, but she couldn’t do much else. The press of those sure hands was incessant. “I might begin to see why you seem so eager to be reduced to that state so often.” He lowered his mouth by her ear, but his voice was just loud enough to let Nagito hear. “I wouldn’t recommend boring or annoying me. We wouldn’t want me to push you too far past your limits, would we?” His vice-like grip only tightened. Though she could still breathe a bit, every second he held her was a second she became closer and closer to melting like putty in his hands. Beside them, Nagito groaned, deep in his throat, at the idea of pushing her past her limits. Too many thoughts were beginning to swirl in his head, and not having anything or anyone touching him to quell it was only making it worse. Kamukura finally released her. She took a deep breath in and coughed a bit. Izuru’s focus went back to her now soaking pussy.
“Now, as I was saying, the only difference between Komaeda and all of your previous conquests is how… inexperienced he is. That, and his crumbling mental state, means he’s developed quite an obsession with you. Isn’t that right, Komaeda?”
“Yes!” Komaeda practically barked, words bursting out of him like a damn. “Yes, yes, I would devote my body to her so willingly- she’s extraordinary, the- the idea of touching her? The idea of her wanting me,” he rambled, drool finally beginning to spill out of his lips in his practically cross-eyed fervor. His chest heaved with his panting. “Oh, it fills me with such an incredible feeling!” He cried. “I selfishly desire her every day, every moment-”
“Enough.” Izuru sighed. Nagito’s lips couldn’t even shut this time. He moaned once more at the sight and his ideas, hips rocking quickly. “You like the attention. It shows. Look how easy it is for me to take her.” At once, his cock stopped teasing her, and finally sunk in. She yelped loudly at the sudden, intense feeling as Izuru quickly and completely filled her. Her walls squeezed around him, beckoning him to stay as his cock kissed the deepest parts of her. Between the look on her face and Izuru’s hands on his lover’s hips, Nagito couldn’t contain himself anymore.
“What an amazing opportunity this is! What a once-in-a-lifetime chance,” he panted. “To watch hope himself and my love together so intimately… ah, you must think I’m so perverted.” Despite his tone, Nagito’s face remained stuck in a blissed out expression, belaying his enjoyment at his self-degradation. “To be enjoying this so… I’m filthy...” He moaned. There was a pause, for just a moment. His tone changed slightly, but it so happened that Nagito was trapped in a room with the only two people in the world who would be able to tell. “Though… some might call it perverted for you to be doing this at all, Kamukura-sama.”
“Are you... insulting me, Komaeda?” Though he didn’t look back over at Nagito, Izuru punctuated his words with his first thrusts into (Y/N). Her noises were muffled by the mattress, and though the tension in the room eased a bit with it, it still hung heavily above her head between the two men.
“Lowly scum like me? Insult you? I would never dream of it, Kamukura-sama.” Nagito smiled cheerfully. Despite his words, the look that he gave Izuru was not with his usual reverence. Izuru’s own eyes narrowed, rolling the emphasis on his words over in his head. With no other words, Izuru’s hands gripped (Y/N)’s hips tighter until the whites of his knuckles were visible and he was sure there would be bruises the next morning.
"Let me make myself clear. This is only for my relief." He punctuated his words with a particularly rough, deep thrust. A broken keen spilled forth as he bottomed her out. "Both from the constant whining and drivel from the two of you... but yes, also sexually." He tangled his hand in her hair. "Unfortunately, my body is that of a teenager’s. It... is filled with hormones that make my body want to breed." He pulled a bit on her hair. She moaned gutturally, fighting with herself to arch into and out of the feeling. His eyes flicked up to meet Komaeda's. "Komaeda, you would not believe how... exquisite she feels... how warm and inviting she is..." Izuru’s lip twitched into the ghost of a smirk. Nagito didn't miss it, he didn’t miss anything. His eyes eagerly drank in every detail of the two of them entwined.
"St- stop talking about m- me like I'm n- not here." She managed, gasping around every other word. Izuru hummed, like he was considering her words, before shoving her head back down harshly into the mattress. His other hand came down in a ruthless slap to her ass, making her gasp, both for air and in surprise. Her hands clenched around nothing behind her back.
"I've got no need to differentiate how I talk to your face from behind your back." Though his face did not change, his tone held a bit of smugness. It was the only indication that what had left her a panting, moaning mess had any effect on him, besides the slight dampness to his brow. "And this is not so much about you as it is about Komaeda." Once more, his tone carried more of his annoyance than usual. "He is incessant. Obsessive. Possessive. And over all a hindrance to the operations of the Despair in his pathetic desire. I was hoping tonight would see a folly to that… but he’s as worked up over you as ever.”
For a second, (Y/N) and Nagito caught each other’s eyes. Arousal that made her clit throb washed through her as she took in the look in his eye. She had never known Nagito to be possessive, as Izuru had claimed. In fact, he often turned down situations that might lead to being in her presence, citing that she deserved better. However, the completely captivated and hungry look would have made anyone feel like they were his. Even without his words or touch, she felt marked as his. Her noises grew even louder. The pride in his eyes, like she was a beloved toy he was showing off, was almost too much.
Izuru didn’t miss this. All at once, he stopped moving, though he was still buried deep inside her. She whined wordlessly, causing him to deliver another hard slap to her ass. She whimpered quietly at it, clenching around his cock, but said nothing else.
“If you’d like to look at each other so badly, so be it.” His voice was even angrier now. If she didn’t know any better, she would say that it almost sounded like Izuru was growing frustrated with the two of them. She couldn’t tell why though. Izuru finally removed his tie and jacket. Most of his clothes remained on, as the motion was not taxing to him in the slightest, but he felt a bit hot under the collar now. He figured it had to do with her body heat. She was very warm.
He pulled out of her and wordlessly picked her up to turn her and face her towards Nagito. She silently thanked the fact that her hands were tied up for once, since it meant it would be hard to pick her head up and look at him constantly. But as Izuru sunk into her once more, one hand gripped the rope binding her hands and the other her shoulder. He leaned down to speak to her.
“Seems you’re lucky as well.” He murmured to her. Her eyes were wide in surprise. Even as Izuru spoke to her, both of their gazes remained fixated on Nagito. She could feel his hot breath on the shell of her ear. It made her shiver as he held her close. “I’m not so bored I feel the need to hold you by the hair.” He considered her for a moment. Her hands were pressed up against his firm stomach. He felt so solid and tall and imposing behind her. Though he was ruthless and unforgiving in his motions, she also knew he could have done much, much worse had he wanted to. The way he took control of her so quickly, so unquestionably so, was what she had been craving from someone every time she had been with someone else.
She finally realized what he was doing. He was showing both of them that she didn’t need to seek another person to give her what she wanted- didn’t need to seek Nagito to give her what she wanted- because he, and only he, could give it to her.
At once, Izuru picked up speed again. She cried out, her fingers scrabbling at the buttons of his shirt, pulling him close, pulling him closer. The sudden roughness made her cry out, the noises broken by each slam of his hips against hers. She could feel the smooth fabric of his pants, still on him, every time he buried himself in her. His hair began to fall down from behind her, brushing her shoulders and sides, tickling her with their silky softness. For a moment, the mischievous thought of pulling it crossed her mind, before she remembered once more that she was tied up at his mercy.
Her eyes focused on Nagito. He was moaning and mumbling to himself, looking lovestruck and animalistic with his wild eyes and hair. She couldn’t quite hear him over her own noises and Izuru’s breathing by her ear. He was leaning forward as much as he could, taking everything in raptly. She could see his erection pressing hard against his jeans, but he seemed to have completely forgotten about it, at least for a bit.
“Fuck!” She hissed, shutting her eyes tight just to get a bit of respite from the onslaught of pleasure she’d been feeling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck yes!”
“Make use of that mouth without foul language. Tell me, is this pleasurable to you?” Izuru asked, but the gentle, dangerous voice he was affecting was strained now. She squeezed her thighs together, in an unconscious attempt to receive friction on her clit, but she was rewarded instead with a quiet moan from Izuru.
“Y- Yes, Kamukura-sama!” You nodded weakly. In the greatest surprise of your night, you heard him laugh for just a second behind you. Quietly, more of a snicker than anything, but a laugh nonetheless. It was a low, smug noise.
“Mmm. Now admit to both of us, that even with me fucking you right now, you’d rather have Komaeda’s cock.” He demanded, making Nagito’s hips jerk up. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes! It- It is!” You longed desperately to reach out to Nagito, just to feel him, just to touch him, but you were beginning to understand the true reason Izuru had tied both of your hands behind your back.
“Then say it.”
“I’d rather have your cock, Komae- ah- Komaeda-kun!” She practically shouted. Izuru began slamming into her harder when she’d gotten to saying Komaeda’s name. The irony didn’t escape her, that although it was Nagito’s name she was crying, it was Izuru that was making her feel that way. Nagito was always hard to read, but although she couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking about, he was enamoured nonetheless.
“I think we’re well past the point of formalities, (Y/N).” Her first name sounded heavenly on his lips. “Go ahead and try again.”
“I want y- you, Nagito!”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Nagito was panting and squirming almost more than she was. It seemed he’d found a rhythm grinding up against his own pants and thighs. His eyes rolled up. “A- again, please, please, please!” He begged, knowing that he was taking a risk by speaking once more. She opened her mouth, but all that fell from it was a squeal as Izuru spanked her with the hand previously holding the rope.
“I made myself clear, Nagito.” Izuru practically purred as he spanked her again and again. She jumped with every one, but she loved the sting regardless. Each one made her feel a little more used, a little more worthless as anything but a toy for the two men. Nagito didn’t like seeing her hurting, but it pleased something deeply sadistic in him, and he wasn’t the one doing it. The friction was barely enough, but he was getting close.
“I- Izuru! Please, please, please…” She pleaded, beginning to rock herself back against his cock sloppily, not in time with his thrusts.
“Hold still.” He practically growled, smacking her once more before digging his fingers back into her waist. She almost couldn’t take it anymore.
“Izuru, please, my- my clit- please, please!”
“Would you like me to touch you properly so you can finish?” Izuru practically purred. She nodded, noises like sobs escaping her mouth. Izuru laughed once more. The hand on her shoulders let go, sending her falling back into the mattress, before he was gathering her hair and pulling her head up once more. “Stupid little girl. You really thought I had no punishment in store for you?” He continued to slam into her, leaving her too mindless to even respond. He was all-encompassing- she could smell him, feel him around and in her, hear only his voice- but all she could see was Nagito, practically on the edge of his seat, getting off to her abuse. “You really think you’re going to cum? How pathetic. You two are suited for each other. If you’re going to cum you’re going to cum from my cock alone. But as much of a dumb slut as you are, I don’t really think you can do that, so you’ll just take it while I finish inside you. After all, my body still wants you bred.”
“W- Wait!” You choked out. Although the smallest part of you that still retained thought worried about what he was saying, the louder part had flooded with a fresh wave of pleasure and arousal at his words. He made no move to pause, but you didn’t have anything else to say. In front of you, you could tell Nagito was close as well, beginning to heave breaths that sounded like laughs. He was sweating, heated by the jacket he was still wearing, but it seemed like the least of his concerns. His noises were high, breathy, and pleading. More than anything he wanted to touch, to feel anything but the confines of his own jeans, but instead he watched helplessly as another man threatened to finish inside his beloved.
Izuru finally began making quiet grunts of his own right in her ear. They were deep and animalistic, something she never thought she would hear from Izuru. However, as he began nearing his edge, his noises only grew more similar in desperation to that of the other two. For just a moment, all three could be heard finding their own pleasure, before Nagito threw his head back with a sobbing noise and climaxed first, emptying into his own underwear. He wished desperately that he was the one in her, even alongside Izuru.
The other two now took their own turn watching Nagito as he finished, their eyes focused on his trembling, his white locks falling back, the way he rutted into the air in his desperation. Izuru’s orgasm took even him by surprise as he watched, and he seated himself in her fully with a loud groan as he filled her up even more. Her noises now sounded broken and pathetic, pleasure overriding her thought process as she let him empty within her without fuss. When he was sure the last of it was inside her, he finally pulled out and set her carefully down on the bed. She didn’t even complain about the loss, since she could still feel his seed dripping out of her twitching core.
She felt his hands on her wrists, which she had grown accustomed to, before realizing that he was undoing his knots. In a couple of tugs, his work came undone, and he laid the rope down next to her. She still couldn’t find the energy to sit up. He then moved around her and to Nagito, still recovering from his own orgasm. Nagito smiled weakly at him. Izuru took Nagito’s hair into his hands, but didn’t pull.
“Clean me up.” He ordered. Nagito seemed shocked, but didn’t waste time. He wrapped his lips around Izuru’s cock, still slick with his cum and her natural lubricant, and began to lick it clean. He moaned and his eyes fluttered shut like it was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. Izuru’s nose wrinkled a bit from overstimulation. Nagito’s pink lips moved back and forth hypnotically over Izuru, until finally, he tugged him off with a ‘pop’. He nodded curtly, and tucked himself back away in his pants. Nagito licked his lips, from which drool had begun to escape him again. Izuru moved behind the chair and undid Nagito’s knots before going to redress in his tie and jacket. “Clean up your mess.”
He turned slightly away from the two, listening as Nagito quickly got to the bed, he assumed to tend to her. He looked back when he finished, realizing she was moaning once more. Instead of attempting to help her sit up or speaking to her, Nagito was kneeling between her legs, lips around her pussy, eyes dutifully closed and hands behind his back. Izuru quickly leaned over and grabbed Nagito by the collar of his shirt, pulling him away from his task.
“I told you she’s not to cum.” Izuru growled. “You’ve already gone against my wishes by finishing yourself-”
“My sincerest apologies, Kamu- Izuru.” Nagito’s head was bowed respectfully. “I truly meant only to help put your seed back into her.” His eyes flicked up to meet Izuru’s. They were not filled with the subservience his posture suggested, but instead flickered with his own machinations. “Who better to be filled with your cum than her? The despair of breeding her during such a time means nothing compared to the hope your progeny would bring! If I’m blessed with the taste of the aftermath of your intimate act in the process... well, that’s just my luck.” He practically giggled. “I suppose I’d merely gotten used to not using my hands.” Despite his mad words, Izuru expected something of the sort from him. He sighed, and let go of his collar.
“I’m leaving now. I expect not to see either of you in my room when I return. Let this be the last time we must have this… discussion.” Izuru said, making his way to the door. “Next time,” He paused in the frame. “I won’t be so kind.” With one last nod to the two of them, he shut the door behind him.
*****
A/N: I'm not sorry, except that this is my first time writing something like this w/ three characters so I know it jumps around a lot but eh here you are! Love, love
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gingersnaaps · 3 years
Text
red light, green light
If there’s one thing that being with Aran Ojiro has taught you, it’s the importance of trust.
wc: 2.2k
tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): explicit n*fw, noncon, very unhealthy portrayal of bdsm dynamics, bondage, breathplay bc deepthroat, bratty/switchy!reader at the start turns into sub!reader, blowjob, penetration, fem!reader with inner genitals
a/n: written for @fallensvint's collab!! not proofread,, ill get to it later
i don’t want minors interacting with my content
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The first time he’d wrapped those ties around your wrist, smooth and silky and surprisingly secure, you’d stared at him with confusion.
“Aran,” you mumbled. “What’s our safeword?”
He smiled, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Don’t you trust me?”
You’d been a bit apprehensive in the beginning, but as it turned out, he was right.
Every time he fucked you after that, every time he bound your wrists and spanked you until your ass glowed red - he always knew when to stop. It was as if he had some kind of sixth sense, a magic ability to read every twitch of your hips and crease of your brows, all the subtle signs that laid bare your inner thoughts and feelings. He knew when to give you more, when to slow down, when to stop entirely.
All you had to do was to close your eyes and let him take over. It felt easy. It felt right.
You suppose it made sense, too. He was a little older, a little wiser, and much more experienced. He knew what he was doing, and he was the one who showed you the ropes - quite literally. Aran knew how to tie all sorts of different knots, square knots and half-hitches and lark’s heads, letting you watch with your eyes blown wide as he threaded the rope into intricate patterns.
Still, at the end of the day, your favorite toy would always be the silk ties he’d first used. They had this allure to them, this magnetic pull that radiated out from the box in which he kept them. And when he used them to bind your wrists nice and tight, deft hands working quickly as the silk slid across your skin, your mind would always blur into a thick haze of arousal and want that left your cunt dripping with heat.
Sex was always better when he tied you up.
He didn’t have to hold you down, because the ties did the work for him, the restraints leaving your mind fogged up with submission, every thought wiped clean except the urge to be a good girl for him. It made him lose his fucking mind to see your doe eyes peering up through the lashes, begging oh-so-sweetly for him to fuck you. And since you always asked so nicely, he’s more than happy to oblige you.
He pounds his cock into your tight, quivering little hole, hips snapping relentlessly, each drag of this dick against your slick, sensitive walls coaxing a squeal from your lips, your cunt fluttering pathetically as pleasure starts to twist in your gut. You’d never deny how good it felt to be fucked stupid while tied up.
But there was more to your little obsession with his silk ties than just that.
There was some small part of you, some unexplainable compulsion, hidden beneath your sweet cries and high-pitched whimpers, that wanted to find out what Aran would look like if he was on the receiving end of things.
You wanted to see what he’d do.
_
It happens on a Saturday morning.
He’s exhausted from a full week of work - the volleyball season is in full swing again, and it always takes him some time to readjust, even if he doesn’t normally sleep in. It’s rare that you wake up earlier than him.
And maybe the alcohol you’d been drinking last night hadn’t worn off entirely, or maybe you were just feeling a little bold that day, a little impulsive, because you take one look at his sleeping form before you reach under the bed for his little box of toys. Sure, you hadn’t exactly discussed this with him beforehand - but he’d done similar things to you before: tied you up without warning, tried different positions in the middle of sex, little things here and there that were never really expected. The surprise was just supposed to be part of the fun, right?
The soft light of early morning filters in through the windows and sets his skin aglow. He looks so at peace when he’s asleep, so calm, the lines in his forehead and the bags under his eyes melting as he dozes away.
There’s not so much as a twitch from him as you tie his wrists together.
You pull aside the comforter, crawling on top of him until your face is inches away from his clothed cock. He looks so good like this - so handsome - the outline of his dick pressing up near his thigh, his toned legs exposed to the cold morning air. You press soft kisses along his inner thigh, trailing your lips up and down the shaft of his cock, dragging the tip of your tongue against the fabric.
There’s a soft rustling noise, and you feel him shift beneath you. “Babe?” he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.
You giggle nervously. “Good morning, Aran.”
“What are you doing?”
You blink up at him through your lashes and pull down his boxers. His cock springs out - it’s half-hard already, the tip slightly swollen, and you trail a finger over the leaking slit.
“Nice way to wake up, I won’t lie,” he says, sighing happily. He shifts slightly, as if trying to get up - and freezes.
You feel his body tense up, thighs flexing as you flick your tongue along his length.
“What happened to my hands?”
Your heart rate spikes. His voice is a bit more measured now, a bit more controlled, an underlying warning threaded through every word.
“Did you tie me up?” he asks, soft and dangerous.
You’re too flustered to make eye contact with him any longer, ducking away under his gaze. You nod hesitantly. His cock strains, twitching slightly, and you wrap your velvet lips around the head, taking him into your warm, wet, mouth with a pop.
“You better get these restraints off right fucking now.”
His outburst startles you. You weren’t expecting such a strong reaction, but the anger that undercuts his words is clear as day. If you untie him now, you know you’ll be in for a hell of an extremely unpleasant ride, one that might end with your ass blooming with bruises and face stained with tears.
For the first time since you’d gotten with Aran, the emotion that seeps into your veins isn’t excitement.
It’s fear.
You stay mute, bringing your hands up to scratch lightly across his thigh, drawing a groan from his chest. Your cunt pulses involuntarily at the noise he makes.
Maybe if you make him cum hard enough, he’ll forgive you.
It’s this faint, stupid, hope that makes you stretch your throat around his cock, trying to fit as much of him in as possible, lips bulging as you drool and slobber around him. It’s messy, pathetic - but your goal isn’t to preserve your dignity. It’s to make him feel good enough to let this slide.
“Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” he breathes, hips bucking upwards, cock sliding in further past your swollen, shiny, lips.
Maybe your strategy would even work.
You bob up and down, working his cock until it grows rock-hard against your tongue, the head pulsing and throbbing in your mouth, your tongue tracing along the underside of each vein. Precum dribbles down your throat, salty and slick, and you swallow eagerly. Your mind grows hazy as you slide yourself further down onto his dick, the up-and-down, back-and-forth motion intoxicating as he fills up every sense you have with his taste, his scent, the sight of his abs flexing as he strains against your mouth. You feel a hand slide to rest on top of your head, and you melt.
The expression on your face when the realization finally hits is too fucking precious.
You pull off of his cock, a string of drool still hanging from the corner of your lips, eyes darting around frantically. The silk bindings that you’d wrapped around his wrists lie in tatters on the bed, all torn and ripped, and Aran stretches leisurely.
“Why’d you stop?” he asks, the barest hint of a grin in his voice. “I didn’t say that you could stop.”
He leans forward, grabbing onto the top of your head, and drags you back to him until your lips are grazing the tip of his cock again. Disappointment is etched onto his features, but it’s a strange, twisted sort of disappointment - his eyes glitter, his pupils dilating - almost as if he’s giddy that you’d messed up and made a fool of yourself.
“Please,” you whimper. “D-don’t-”
“You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you?” he asks gravely, shaking his head. “Bad girls get punished. Don’t complain if you get what you deserve.”
With that, he forces your mouth back onto his dick, but with the help of his insistent hands, you’re able to take him even deeper than you were before. Your throat burns red and raw as he shoves your little mouth as deep as possible on his cock, gorging you on his thick, swollen length, impaling you on his dick until your eyes begin to tear up.
“Need to breathe,” you mumble, but your words are barely coherent with your mouth stuffed so full. The only noise that comes through are your small, desperate moans, and the little gagging noises from the back of your throat.
“What’s that?” he asks, nonchalant. “Didn’t hear you properly, baby. Speak up.”
It’s at this point that panic begins to flood your veins. Your head hurts from how hard he’s gripping it, a dull, throbbing ache that leaves tears trickling down your face. You’re not sure he’s going to relent any time soon, either, because Aran seems dead set on making sure he sees your punishment through, even if it means leaving your jaw sore and tender for days. A haze begins to settle over your brain from the lack of oxygen, black spots creeping into the edges of your vision -
You lose it.
"Red," you scream against his cock. "Red." You faintly remember reading somewhere that this was the word that meant stop, the one that was used when things went to far.
"I'm not sure what that means, baby."
“Please, Aran,” you cry. “I’m serious. Stop. Stop. I’m not kidding.”
Your chest heaves uncontrollably with your sobs, tears and drool mixing as slick drips down his shaft and onto his fat balls. The words you want to get out aren’t really coming through, but you keep trying, slobbering all around his dick as your muffled moans vibrate against his crotch.
He sighs. “Alright, alright. You’re a bit softer than I thought.”
His words send a pang of hurt through your chest - you’d tried your hardest, and wasn’t that enough? - but it’s pure relief that floods into your veins when he finally drags you off of his cock. You gasp for air, wheezing and coughing as oxygen finally floods into your lungs.
You look pretty, he thinks. A bit like a drowned kitten, with your lashes wet, your hair messed up, and lips all bitten and swollen and leaking with drool.
It makes his cock twitch against his stomach.
He flips you over onto the bed, pinning your wrists down, and lines the tip of his cock up so it prods at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks.
And to be honest, you’re not, but at least he’s stopped choking you with his cock. Maybe you should be grateful for that.
When he pushes his cockhead past your tight, clenched pussy lips, it’s unbearably slow. It leaves your insides aching, raw and needy, even when the drag of his dick against your slick, ribbed, walls stops, even when he’s bottomed out and his balls are tapping gently against your cunt. He fucks you slow and deep, pushing up against your g-spot, breaking you apart on his cock until you’re sobbing again for an entirely different reason.
This is punishment, remember?
It feels like hours have gone by before that familiar wave of pleasure begins to build steadily in your core. Every thrust of his hips leaves you reeling, eyes rolling back into your head, fingers fisting at the bedsheets - but he’s still fucking you so slowly it hurts. Your cunt clenches uselessly, greedy and desperate, as if it’s trying to keep him buried inside you, and it draws a breathy chuckle from his lips.
“Close?” he asks, pulling his cock out almost all the way.
You nod eagerly and buck your hips up. You don’t really care if you look stupid or pathetic, because all you want right now is for him to speed up his maddeningly slow pace, to fuck you until you’re drooling into the mattress.
He pushes back in, snapping his hips harshly, and you squeal - you’re right on the precipice, your orgasm building and coiling tight in your gut, the walls of your cunt cinching around his cock like a vice -
He pulls out.
You’re silent for a few seconds, brain still too hazy to comprehend what he’s doing, but then you hear him speak, voice low and rough, and you shiver.
“Bad girls don’t get to cum.”
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bruhlsbees · 3 years
Text
paradox burning ; 1/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader
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summary: after the fight between volkov and schmidt, you comfort schmidt in his quarters
pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader
warnings: over the clothes touching
word count: 4,666
taglist: @itsametaphorbriansblog
a/n: if you haven't read the preview i would suggest reading that first to understand the vibe of their relationship better!! chapter two will be up tonight!! just wanted to get this out as i've been lacking content these past few days since i've been celebrating my birthday. hope you enjoy and as always if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!
“TAD throttle control, 8636. Line secure.”
Mother Mary be with us...be with Mama and Papa and sissy and Joe.
“Accelerator system status?”
Father give us the strength today, for we have dove into the depths of space to restore humanity as we know it.
“It’s holding for pre-ignition.”
Look after everyone down below on Earth - for times are dark and the sun does not appear to be rising anymore.
“Shepard team, you are go for countdown.”
I pray that you forgive all of our sins, Father, as we have learned our lessons and strive to move forward in honoring thy.
“We’ve all got our fingers crossed here at Mission Control. Let’s make this first one count.”
And help guide us through these troubling times and help everyone remember why we are up here.
“Status boosters?”
Is this Hell, Father?
“Go.”
Have you damned us all to Hell?
“The GNC?”
To pay for our sins?
“Go.”
Tell me, Father...
“Power up.”
Are we damned?
“Commander, Shepard team standing by for your go.”
Perhaps we are and this is where are days will end.
“On my count…”
Among strangers and empty.
“Three…”
Away from family...
“Two…”
Away from friends…
“One…”
Alone in our own thoughts.
“Mark.”
God, help us all.
TWO YEARS LATER
You awoke with a start. Gasping for air as you tugged at your tank top, as if the thin material was suffocating you. Not giving yourself time to process what had happened, you threw your legs out from under the warm covers and let the cool air hit your bare legs, your elbows resting on your knees with your head in your hands, catching your breath.
This was the second week in a row now that you’ve woken up from a nightmare. Drenched in sweat and tears spilling from your eyes. It was always a reimagine of the previous one. If you dreamt of your father dying one night, the next it would be your mother. This night, it was your own life that you dreamt slipping away. Your finger pads swiped away the tears that fell down your cheeks before sliding onto the cool flooring, clasping your hands together to begin and pray.
“In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit…” You began, crossing yourself as you settled on your knees, eyes closed and hands squeezed together tight. “Heavenly Father I ask that you watch over Mama and Papa...sissy and Joesph, and all those back home,” You cleared your throat, choking down the tears as you continued on once more. “We have been onboard for over two years and I miss everyone dearly. I hope to speak with them soon as Joesph is teaching Mama and Papa how to use video call.”
Even with all the photos that you had around your room, all the videos that you had programmed in to watch whenever you pleased, you were beginning to forget simple things - like how they smelled, the warmth of their hugs, and how they always tried to pawn your younger siblings onto you. You were always so mad babysitting them, losing out on time with your friends, but now...now you wished that you had the chance to babysit them, to be with them once again.
“Father, I ask that you forgive me for my sins, guide us through this mission, and take us home. All of us. Let this mission go well, and we can save Earth. Amen.”
You crossed yourself a final time, bringing your cross necklace from your chest where it sat and to your lips, kissing the gold piece of jewelry before standing up from the floor.
This was an everyday routine for you. Waking up, saying your morning prayer, taking a shower, and being down for breakfast by 08:00. It was early, you knew that, but you enjoyed having the calmer moments before everyone else woke up.
When you entered the bathroom, you went straight to the shower, turning the handle to let the warm water spute out. You were tired, swaying gently in your stance as your eyes grew heavy. The sudden spitting of water struggling to get out woke up, making you jump as you watched the water pressure went from weak to strong.
You pushed down your shorts from that night, pulling your tank top above you, and stepped out of your shorts, dropping the tank top on the floor before stepping into the shower. You were pleasantly greeted by the hot water, sighing as it hit your back and began easing the tension in your muscles.
Morning showers for you were always dangerous - either it could go very well and you’d be out in minutes, or it could go bad and you’d end up falling asleep leaning against the wall. On this particular morning, after dreaming of your own death, you did not wish to fall asleep again, scared of what could come from your slumber. You quickly washed yourself off, massaging your scalp as you washed your hair before taking the toothbrush you kept in the shower, opening up the tube of toothpaste, and began brushing your teeth.
It was such a mundane routine - almost finding it boring the longer you were onboard. Perhaps it was your schedule that was down to the second of when you did things. You never were one to be so particular about your schedule, having one so precise, but after a year of pure chaos on board, a mundane routine is what kept your little sanity still hanging.
When you were finally ready for the day and changed into your suit, you slid on your shoes and pulled your hair back into a low bun, tucking some of the loose pieces of hair behind your ear before heading out of your room and down the hall, going towards the common room to join the others for breakfast.
By the time you made it down to the common room, you were only the third to arrive - Mundy and Acosta beating you to it.
“Well look who finally decided to wake up!”
From your spot at the bagel machine, you looked over into the game room where Mundy and Acosta stood playing foosball, Mundy looking all too proud - indicating that he perhaps was winning. On the other hand, Acosta looked tired, almost too tired to be playing a game of foosball so early with Mundy.
Letting out a laugh, you shook your head and turned your attention back to the bagel, sighing once it finished before pulling it out from the machine and placing it on your plate. You truly didn’t understand how half the stuff you consumed was edible, but you supposed it beat other things you’ve seen those in space eat.
Taking a seat in your spot at the table, your back facing Mundy and Acosta, you brought the bagel to your mouth and took a bite, maybe a little bigger than what was more polite, but you didn’t care, you were starving.
It was the Commander who came in next, greeting everyone with a morning as he got his own breakfast before sitting across from you at the other end of the table. When the two of you locked eyes, you nodded, continuing to chew your bagel before looking down, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that you had a shit night.
You were pleased when Commander didn’t seem to notice, glancing occasionally into the lounge room where Mundy and Acosta continued to play foosball, Acosta finally gaining the upper hand on Mundy for once.
One by one the rest of the crew began to show: Volkov, Tam, Schmidt, before eventually Hamilton joined as well. When Schmidt came in, walking beside Tam speaking in Mandarian about what you assumed to be something related to the Shepard power accelerator. As the two sat down with their breakfast, Schmidt looked over your way, his mouth twitching into a smile before his attention fell back to the screen pad in front of him that Tam was holding.
You listened in on their conversation, picking out what you could understand through the technical language the two spoke on. As a medical crewman, you weren’t familiar with all of the technology onboard, only the ones related to the medbay that you primarily worked in. You went to school for medicine, exceeding expectations in your classes, and found yourself working for military hospitals since. It came as a surprise to you when they asked if you’d like to be a part of the Cloverfield station. What business did you have going up in space?
When you told your family about the news, they were proud, no doubt, that their eldest child would be going into space to directly help with the ongoing energy crisis. It was evident how proud they were of you, but also how worried with you going into space. You lived with your parents and younger siblings your entire life, leading up until your departure for the Cloverfield station. Separating from your family was hard, and having them not understand how to work even something as simple as a video call hurt more.
Your sister, Mila, would be sixteen now - learning how to drive and preparing for her final days in school before going into higher education, if that’s what she wanted. Your brother, Joseph, would be twenty-three now, doing who knows what with his young man mind. You hoped he wasn’t getting into trouble, or knocking some girl up...although the idea of having a little niece or nephew to come home to didn’t sound all that bad.
But your parents, how were they doing? They were older, growing slower as the days went on. Were they still making it through all of this? You assumed Papa was still running the family shop downstairs, selling candies to the little children of Lapovo - whatever children were left in Lapovo that is.
Mama though, how was she doing? You couldn’t imagine how worried she was, probably baking her troubles away in the kitchen. You missed waking up to her cooking, smelling the sweetness of baklava and sarma. She always wrote you letters while you were away either at school or on the military base that was outside of Lapovo where you worked. Now that you were in space though, sending letters just didn’t happen.
Perhaps tonight you’d try and see if Joseph was online and able to chat.
Everything had been going peaceful that morning, which you enjoyed after the sleep you poorly had. That is until Volkov finally spoke up.
“Six hundred and ninety-four.”
Looking up from your bagel and to your left where he was at, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as Volkov screwed the water bottle back closed, making his way over to the table to join the rest of you.
“Six hundred and ninety-four days I’ve kept our O2, CO2, N2, hydrogen, water vapor and methane at optimal levels.”
Congrats, what did he want, a fucking cookie?
You watched as Volkov stood on the other side of the table in front of Schmidt, almost directly talking to him. There was always something going on between the two of them, and quite frankly it annoyed the living shit out of you. You felt like a mother some days, scolding Schmidt for clearly egging Volkov on - him and his damn anger issues.
It was no different today, as Volkov began his tangent on whatever it was he was about to lay into you all, Schmidt was sitting across from him, a smirk on his face.
“You know how many pressure leaks we’ve had? Not one. No microbe overgrowth, nothing. You know why?”
“This is a long speech, Volkov.” Schmidt quipped, reacting in you rolling your eyes and pushing your plate forward, leaning back in your chair with your arms crossed over your chest, wondering where this would be leading to next.
“Because I disinfect the decks every seventy-two hours.” It was Acosta to interrupt Volkov this time, stating that he was actually the ones to disinfect the decks. He was right, you couldn’t remember how many days you spent helping him, on your knees scrubbing at the decks.
It seemed finally everyone was growing annoyed with whatever Volkov was getting at, Commander Kiel finally stepping in and stating that if he had a point he wanted to make, he should make it now.
“There’s one part of this station. One part that is not working. This is interesting, do you know what part that is? The Sheppard Accelerator.” Volkov continued, not seeming to be in any rush to get out what he wanted to say.
In Mandarian, Tam finally intervened, claiming that eight billion were counting on us and asked what his point was. You could agree, what was this all about?
It was then that Volkov stated that he didn’t have a problem with Tam, but with Schmidt - ‘her German boyfriend’. You couldn’t help but snicker at the comment, clearing your throat just as quick, hoping nobody heard. But someone did, and it was Schmidt, giving you a look that screamed ‘you’re not gonna find that as funny later’.
Everything began to really go downhill from there, nobody seemed to be able to get to Volkov and stop him before he said even more that he would regret. Hamilton directed him to go back to his quarters only for him to snap back that she wasn’t his mother. Commander and Mundy even jumped in, trying to calm him down, but nothing worked.
“Two years on this ship, and this man has delivered nothing,” Volkov pushed on. You hadn’t noticed it until then, but Schmidt had moved from the table and was now standing only feet away from Volkov. You felt your heart begin to pound as you watched the two men. Two men with strong anger issues at only breakfast time, something more than just a disagreement on the way to erupt.
“Volkov, enough!” Schmidt snapped, glaring forward at him. “You need to think very carefully about what you’re saying.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and you thought maybe, just maybe Volkov actually shut up for once. But that brief moment of silence was just that, and he was back to speaking, this time more quiet than before.
“We’ve both heard the reports,” Making his way closer to Schmidt, “Germany is preparing for war, Serbia taking alliances with Germany, and everyday that goes by more and more Russians are starving.” The comment made your heart stop for a moment. That was just a rumor, in all of your messages with Joseph, not once had he mentioned going to war alongside Germany to be true.
You didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to cry, but you did. Bringing your fingers to your mouth, you began to bite down at the skin around your nails, chewing away at the flesh until you tasted the iron of your blood. Nobody outwardly spoke badly to you, besides the occasional poorly landed joke from Volkov, but you couldn’t help but feel like an outcast, wondering if people really thought you were what Volkov said you to be.
By now Volkov was in Schmidt’s face, the two men radiating their own heated anger off one another, tension filling the room, making you feel like you did in your nightmare, suffocating. You pulled at the collar of your suit, taking the zipper and unzipping the front enough to get yourself feeling less trapped.
“Maybe you’re not in a hurry to get the Shepard working. Is that it? Are you stalling us to help Germany get the upper hand? What about you? What are you doing in the med bay alone, mixing something up for us to take? To slowly kill us?”
He laughed, he actually laughed when he looked at you, a shit-eating grin on his face.
It all happened in a matter of seconds. When Volkov turned back towards Schmidt, it was only half a second before Schmidt’s hand wrapped around Volkov’s throat, pushing him back before sending a punch across his face. Volkov was quick to regain his posture, grabbing at Schmidt’s own throat and shoved him back towards the corner, both men trying to pin one another against the wall.
When the scene unfolded, you stood up in shock, mouth gaped and you took a step to the side to try and do whatever you could to help, but felt someone grab your wrist. Turning, you looked down to see Tam’s hand before looking up at her, watching her shake her head ‘no’ and to just wait. And you did, it took everything in you to stick by her side, but you did wait.
Commander was the one to grab Schmidt, pinning him onto the table with his face squished onto the glass. Mundy, on the other hand, held Volkov in a choke hold, keeping him restrained while the Commander lectured the two men - one of which was still trying to get the last word in.
“Keep your mouth shut, Volkov!” The Commander finally boomed, causing the room to come to a standstill. “We have a job to do.”
The room finally fell silent, both men seeming to be relaxed enough for the Commander to think they were free to be broken from their restraints.
“Now, can you two get along for just one day without us having to pull you off of one another?” Moving back, you watched as Schmidt laid on the table for a moment, almost debating on if he wanted to go at it with Volkov again. He decided against it and finally stood up, fixing his shirt before shooting a glare towards Volkov, knocking past him and out of the common room.
You gave it a moment, smiling over at Tam when you felt her squeeze your hand. You nodded her way, squeezing her hand back before you quietly slipped away, moving down the hall quick to go and find Schmidt.
It took a while for Schmidt to really calm down, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if the Commander didn’t rush the test that you were all supposed to conduct that day. It was bad enough everyone was stressed, but having someone be stressed and pissed off just wouldn’t work. You could almost bet that the reason the outburst that morning even happened in the first place was because of the high tensions on board, especially leading up to the next test.
If this test failed, they only would have enough for three more tests. After that... well, they could kiss humanity goodbye.
It didn’t take long for you to find Schmidt, in his quarters struggling to get his suit on as the zipper seemed to be stuck. He was mumbling something in German and you couldn’t piece together what he was saying other than the occasional ‘fuck him’.
When you stepped inside his quarters, the door shutting behind you, he paused his moments, his hands on his zipper, not wanting to look at you. You took a hesitant step forward, not wanting to be on the other hand of his outburst, before stopping once you were only a foot away from him.
“If you’re here to tell me that I was an idiot, don’t bo-”
“I’m not here to call you anything, Ernst,” His cheeks grew red at the sound of his first name, his gaze glancing up at you, watching as you stared back - only instead of something angry, like he expected, your gaze was more somber, worried even, “I just came to make sure you were okay. Here, let me.”
You gently moved his hands away from the zipper of his suit, taking another step forward to pinch at his suit, tugging the fabric down to help the zipper not get bunched in the fabric. You could feel his ragged breath hit your forehead, his chest heaving as the zipper moved higher until your hand stopped above his heart.
His mouth twitched into a smile, feeling your head fall forward to rest against his chest. You felt his arms wrap around you as he pulled you in tighter for a hug, as if you could get any closer to him. His lips sat on your hairline above your temple, kissing you sweetly.
“You trust me, right?” Schmidt suddenly asked. He could feel you tense up in his arms and he pulled back, his hands resting on your arms, squeezing them, “I just, don’t want you to be wrapped up in the middle of whatever feud Volkov has with me. Tam already gets it enough and I just don’t want you to have that on yo-”
You stopped him with a kiss, smiling into it before pulling away, seeing his own smile on his face.
“I can handle myself, Schmidt...I’m not worried with what Volkov has to say,” You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist, “Volkov likes to get a rise out of anyone who gives him the time of day. It’s how he keeps himself busy on board.”
The joke seemed to land well with Schmidt, earning a laugh before you felt him begin to rock you both side to side. “But what’s this about Tam being your girlfriend?” You teased.
You grinned at the sight of him rolling his eyes at you, “You don’t have to be jealous about Tam, you know that she’s-”
“Who said I was jealous?” You asked, a smirk toying on your mouth. The two of you often were fond of teasing one another, poking at one another until the other grew red - then you’d smother the other in kisses to make up for the relentless teasing. “Do I need to be jealous of her? Is that why it takes you so long to come to my room at night, are you seeing her before you see me?”
You had pulled away from him midway, now seated on his cot. He was red in the face and gaping as he tried to intervene, but you kept talking.
“I mean, wow, Tam? I didn’t realize you were the type that liked to be dominated-”
It was your turn to be cut off, giggling when he moved across the room, pinning you down against his bed. You felt your heart begin to race, your own cheeks turning red as his face sat merely inches away from you, his large hand squeezing your wrist down beside your head onto his bed.
“You really like to get under my skin, don’t you?” He asked, squeezing your waist. Behind his glasses, you noticed his pupils were blown, his eyes dark. “Do you like seeing me mad, liebling? Does it get you hot and bothered when you see me wrapping my hand around Volkov’s throat? Do you wish that was you?” You felt his hand moving up your side, groping at you until his hand wrapped lightly around your throat.
His thick German accent, mixed with the sultry tone that was dripping from his tongue, made your stomach flip, the heat between your thighs pulsating. Biting down on your lip, your free hand moved up to grip at the collar of his suit, panting slightly.
“Maybe it does.”
Your simple quip seemed to do it for him. Feeling his body shift slightly, Schmidt hummed in though, his hand moving from your neck and down, pressing into your lower stomach, pawing almost at your body before squeezing his way down to your thighs, pulling one up so he laid in between your legs.
By now you were hot and bothered. Feeling him grab at you, call you the sweet German pet name adored to call you. You felt his breath against your neck, shivering slightly before letting out a sweet moan when his lips pressed against the side of your neck, his teeth nibbling at the sensitive spot he knew of.
But you knew now wasn’t the time. Right now you two needed to be with the other crew members to initiate the next jump. The last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and catch you and Schmidt doing, well - that.
“Schmidt...моја љубав...my love, we need to get back.” You withered your hand from his wrist and to his chest, pushing him back until he was staring down at you, a disappointed frown on his face. You couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head at how childish he was acting.
“Oh, Ernst - come now, I’ll make it up to you later.” You leaned forward and pecked the corner of his mouth, rolling out from under him before standing up, smoothing down your suit as you walked to the mirror by his closet, looking at yourself in the mirror as you began fixing your appearance.
It wasn’t that you two were embarrassed of each other, no you two were smitten for one another and it was truly sick. You just knew that given the dire of your work, what everyone expected out of the two of you, flaunting your attraction could be seen as distracting.
But that was just it, you two weren’t even dating. You weren’t sure how it all started, but one day the constant pinning became more - and now a year later you were where you were now. Sneaking off at night to see each other, to lay in bed and hold one another. Once this was all over, you knew that you’d return home, would Schmidt go with you?
By now Schmidt was standing behind you, obviously aware of your state of mind, deep in whatever thoughts you were having. When you caught glances with him through the mirror, you blushed and looked away. At that point, you heard him laugh and move forward to help you fix your hair, smoothing the parts that stuck up and tucking the longer pieces behind your ear.
“You look beautiful as always,” He pecked your cheek and wrapped his arms around you, holding you in an embrace, “Do you want to go out first, or me?” He asked against your ear, letting the silence sink in between you two.
You wanted to suggest why not the both of you just leave together, but you knew now wasn’t the time to let a potential argument break out, especially given how sour his mood already was - and it wasn’t even noon yet.
“Why not you?” You finally said, reaching your hands up to squeeze his, “After all, you need to be down there more than me. Acosta and I are just there for moral support.”
Turning in his embrace, you looked up at him and smiled, leaning into his touch when he held your face, “Yes, well, I’d like to think of you as my good luck charm.”
You scoffed, shaking your head at his comment, “If that were true, we’d be off this ship by now.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Schmidt leaned forward and kissed your temple, “Maybe,” He mumbled against you, kissing you once more before pulling back, beginning to make his way towards the door, “Maybe you’re my good luck charm in the sense of keeping me from really doing something stupid.”
Your mouth twitched at the comment, not into a smile, nor a frown, almost like you winced. Besides Tam, you were probably one of the only people on board that completely trusted Schmidt. His temper left him to be rather difficult to be around at times, but perhaps he was right - maybe you were his soft spot, his good luck charm as he liked to say, because never has his temper ever gotten to you.
But there was still that sinking feeling in your stomach, as he headed out of his room and down the hall to meet with the others, leaving you standing alone in his quarters.
If this test were to fail - would Schmidt truly snap? Would you finally feel his wrath?
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jjkpls · 3 years
Text
the wishlist (m) - 4
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“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”
> genre : smut, fluff
> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)
> total words : 4.7k
> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness
previous - next
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The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.
He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless. 
But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.
That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).
When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm. 
He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour. 
He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start. 
It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it. 
It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.
You won’t use it. 
It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?
Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.
Guk
So about the toy!
As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.
You won’t entertain him.
You
I said not to buy me this.
Guk
You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again
Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.
You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.
It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.
You
It’s not even my fucking bday why???
Guk
I told you the lady at the shop
But who the hell is that lady?
Guk
She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too
You
Jungkook
This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults. 
Guk
Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger
Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.
You
I can read
Guk
So you opened it already??
There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves. 
Why and how can he be so eager?
Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something. 
The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through. 
Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?
It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything. 
You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.
It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship. 
You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.
You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away. 
You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed. 
Guk
She said you could try it on other parts of your body too
Guk
At first
Guk
Like on your lips or your nipples
You want to die.
Now.
No, better, you wish to have never been born. 
Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?
And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings. 
Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts. 
“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”
Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up. 
But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.
Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer. 
“I don’t think I quite understand.”
It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone. 
“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name. 
“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life. 
“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”
“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy. 
“What did he say exactly?”
Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated. 
“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.
You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear. 
She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility. 
She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.
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Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland
A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)
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