#bottom is meant to be hair pulling and just. face picking in general.. i think they pick a lot. pick at anything

[garlicboyart]

nervous habits

(not pictured: pacing, clutching/picking at their sleeves and tearing leaves to shreds slowly if they have the downtime)

[ruthwritesalot]

What's My Age Again? Chapter 16

Overview

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I did a lot of rewrites over the weekend, which is why these new posts are all showing up

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Jamie's POV

“Sorry I’m late,” Omar’s voice sounded from the studio entrance. “I forgot my bag and had to go back.”

“It’s fine, you’re here now,” Aaliyah called over the music. “We’re just practicing our split leaps.”

I watched anxiously as Omar set down his things, then got in line next to me. I smiled at him. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He gave me a quick hug.

Before I could figure out what that meant, it was my turn. “That looks great!” Aaliyah praised me. “Good job.”

I couldn’t conceal my obvious smile as I headed to the back of the line and watched Omar. He looked incredibly graceful as he jumped, almost getting to full splits.

“Point your toes,” Aaliyah reminded him, then turned to the next girl.

“Can we talk after class?” I mumbled under my breath once he was back beside me.

“Sure,” he mumbled back.

--------------------

“So, I talked to my ex, and he told me about this thing called internalized homophobia,” I explained to Omar as we walked along Main Street.

“Okay?” He gave me a quizzical laugh.

“I know, it sounds dumb,” I said, giggling along with him. “But like, I’m sorry if I made you hate yourself.”

“Um, wow. Okay.” Omar stopped at a bench. “So you like, did research and everything?”

“Kind of,” I admitted.

“That’s like, really sweet,” he told me. “But don’t worry, you didn’t make me hate myself.”

I smiled. “So are we good?”

He looked uncertain, and my smile slipped. “If we see each other at school, are you gonna ignore me?”

“No,” I said, though the thought of being out at school left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“You promise?”

I wondered if that had ever happened to him. “Yes,” I said, more forcefully this time. “I want to be friends with you.”

He gave me a tight hug, which we held for a while. When he pulled away, he said, “You want to hang out for a little while longer?”

I agreed, and we walked around before deciding to go to Urban Outfitters.

“Are you gonna be weird if we go in the women’s section?” Omar asked as we entered.

I forced back my anxiety, not wanting to disappoint him twice in a week. “No.”

“You sure? We don’t have to,” he assured me, even though I could see in his face that he really wanted to.

“No, really. It’s fine,” I promised.

He gave me an excited grin which was definitely worth getting over my nerves for, then dragged me over to a rack of flowy, ankle-length lilac skirts. “What do you think of this?” he asked, holding one out to me.

I had to admit it was pretty beautiful. “Well, it is my favorite color.”

“Really?” He asked curiously. “Specifically lilac, or purple in general?”

“Purple in general, but I like lilac the most,” I explained. Best of all things with actual lilacs on them. I used to have a cream-colored shirt with them on the front, but I’d only worn it once or twice before it had disappeared to the bottom of my closet when Dad noticed it.

“I think it would suit you,” Omar said, and I took a step back. He understood. “Too far?”

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“Don’t be,” he dismissed. “You can just give me advice.”

We picked out two more blouses for Omar and a few bucket hats for me to try on. There was a yellow one with daisies I especially liked, but the green complimented my dark brown hair more.

I was looking at myself in the mirror when Omar called from his changing room, “Do you want to ask if we can have a sleepover this weekend? We could watch a movie, paint our nails, that kind of stuff.”

“What movie?” I asked, even though I already knew my answer would be yes.

“Mean Girls?” he suggested.

“I’ve never seen it,” I admitted.

“What?” he poked his head out from behind the curtain to stare incredulously at me. “Okay, we definitely need to remedy that.”

I laughed. “Okay, I’ll ask.”

--------------------

Omar’s parents only felt okay if the sleepover was at their house, which Alex understood and agreed to without a second thought. After finally wrestling his dad’s laptop from the hands of his little sister, we snuggled in his double bed, the movie playing and a huge bowl of freshly popped popcorn between us. Omar kept watching my reaction to his favorite scenes, which was a little unnerving.

“Did you like it?” he asked once the movie was over.

“Yeah, it was funny,” I said.

He seemed disappointed. “Did you like the part where she got hit by a bus?”

I was a bit concerned that that was apparently his favorite part. “I mean, I thought it was kind of random,” I told him honestly.

He adjusted his position, leaning back against the pillows now that he didn’t have to look at the screen anymore. “What movies do you like, then?”

I thought about it. “I like Jennifer’s Body.”

He grinned. “Oh, that movie’s awesome.”

I moved the laptop and empty popcorn bowl to the floor so I could look at him. “Let me guess, you liked the part where she ate people.”

“Not only that,” he defended himself. ��Did you know the whole demon thing is like, a metaphor about sexual assault? I watched this youtube video about it.”

“Really?” Maybe I needed to watch the movie again, because I hadn’t even thought of that.

He nodded. “Yeah. Can you hand me the laptop? I’ll show you.” I did, and he went to youtube and typed in rowan ellis jennifers body before turning the screen to show me thirty minute video of a blue-haired girl talking about the movie. It was interesting enough, especially since I’d only ever streamed the movie and didn’t know any of the lore around it’s initial release, but still, I could feel my eyelids growing heavier as we watched it.

I felt Omar nudge me and jerked awake. “Are you even paying attention?” he asked reproachfully.

“What? Sorry,” I said in a daze.

“How are you already tired? It’s not even ten.”

I checked the time on the laptop. 9:34. “Your bed is too comfortable.” He had a much softer mattress than mine, and he’d already put on his soft, thick bedsheets for the winter. They were a pale blue fleece material, and lying under them was like having fluffy clouds as a blanket.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” Omar asked.

“No,” I said, rousing myself. “But let’s do something else.”

Omar had been serious about painting his nails, so we went to the bathroom. I was able to help him with what he called the base on his left hand, but was no use for the intricate gold designs he wanted on top of the light pink color. I loved watching Omar paint. It was mesmerizing how swiftly he drew the perfectly straight lines, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Can you do something cool on my toes?” I asked, figuring no one would see them anyway.

“Sure, what do you want?” he asked.

“I don’t know, just do whatever you want.” He had a lot more of an artistic sense than I did.

He gave me a lilac base and painted tiny purple flowers on top. “You could be a surgeon with these hands,” I observed, impressed.

He smiled, careful not to laugh and mess up. “Don’t say that in front of my parents. Their expectations are high enough as it is.”

“Don’t worry,” I assured him. “I don’t know what surgeon means in Spanish, anyway.”

“Cirujano,” he informed me.

I probably wouldn’t remember the word for very long. “Cirujano,” I repeated, and he nodded approvingly. I smiled, proud that my Spanish was getting better. I wanted to be good at one thing, at least.

“Muy bien,” he teased.

I knew what that meant. “How long do I have to sit here until it’s dry?” I asked when he was done.

Omar shrugged. “I usually wait like, five to ten minutes.” He screwed the cap back on the indigo polish awkwardly, taking care not to smudge his nails. It went back in the cabinet, and I felt a small pang of jealousy about how casual he felt in his home, but it was gone almost as quickly as it came.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” I asked him.

“Sure,” he replied, sitting down again and blowing on his nails gently.

“Was you being gay ever like… a problem for your parents?” I said it in a hushed voice, not knowing who might be in the hall to overhear us.

It clearly didn’t matter, though, because his tone was normal when he replied, making me cringe a little. “No, not really. I think they’re kind of worried about me getting bullied, but they don’t actually care.”

“I mean, you do get bullied,” I pointed out.

“I don’t know if I’d call it bullying,” he said dismissively. “I get picked on sometimes.” He looked up from his nails. “Why? How did your parents react?”

I averted my gaze. In a tone that indicated that I didn’t want to elaborate, I said, “There’s a reason I live with my brother.”

“Oh, right,” Omar said awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I said, and for once, I wasn’t lying.

We were both silent until we decided to go back to his room, me walking awkwardly on my heels. I cringed at how loud my steps were being on the wooden floorboards, but relaxed when his little sister came stomping up the stairs, making about three times the noise I was.

We stayed up past midnight talking. I was still tired when Alex came to pick me up the next morning in a suspiciously good mood. I decided not to prod.

The next week at school, I walked past Noah and sat alone during lunch.

Overview

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[weasleymenfs]

hi (me again) with chapter THREE of meet my boyfriend charlie…. i’m having sm fun writing this i hope u lurv reading 🥹 plz leave me any comments/dm me and feel FREE to check my story out on wattpad

MEET MY BOYFRIEND CHARLIE - THREE

pairing: fem OC x charlie weasley (major heart eyes)

TW!!!: injury, mention of wound+healing, maybe a curse word or two(?), charlie weasley in general (plz lmk if i forgot anything)

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ANNABEL glanced around the infirmary and was happy to note that she'd rid herself of all of her patients. she'd always liked to work alone, even though fred and george never let her, which was partly what drove her towards her career in medicine.

if she was alone as a healer, it meant she'd successfully done her job. she'd healed all of her patients and she could be proud of herself.

she tidied up all of the beds, making sure to turn the sheets down just so like madame pomfrey had taught her.

"whatcha think, pick? like what you see?" she questioned, her tone light and airy. she was quite pleased with herself, and pickett's light hum of approval only deepened this feeling. she gave him an appreciative pat on the head to show her gratitude.

she walked back to her desk at the far end of the infirmary hall and smiled as she glanced at the massive bouquet of flowers that sat on the corner.

the twins had sent them earlier in the week, fit with a small card. fred had drawn a smiley face on it and george had signed their names near the bottom. she had been overjoyed at the delivery and was even more appreciative now as she looked on at the bouquet in the sunlight.

"very nice of the boys, wasn't it, pick?" she muttered with a bright smile on her face.

suddenly, the heavy doors of the infirmary burst open, pulling her away from her wandering thoughts. her attention was immediately drawn away and she stood at once, causing pickett to grasp onto the brim of her pocket and hastily retreat so that he was out of sight.

she rushed around her desk and towards the burly man who'd entered with a young-looking boy in his arms.

"it's alright, james, you're going to be quite-," the man stopped speaking to the boy, having looked up. he made eye contact with annabel, his blue eyes searching her face.

his expression grew curious as the two neared each other and he seemed as though he were at a loss for words.

"annabel?" he questioned, the confusion evident in his handsome features. she too was just as confused, not expecting to see him so far from his home at hogwarts of all places.

"charlie?" she mirrored, motioning for him to bring the child to the nearest bed.

"well, this is quite a-," he started but she cut him off.

"could you tell me what's happened?" she questioned, a serious look returning to her features. even though charlie's presence did shock her a bit, she just couldn't overlook the child he'd brought with him. she quickly focused all of her attention on the boy, choosing to push the small butterflies that fluttered in her stomach down for the moment.

"oh, right, um...he's had a fall outside. during our lesson. tripped over a rock, right, lad?" charlie looked to the boy, who seemed transfixed on annabel.

who could blame him though.

while it had literally been years since charlie had seen her, he couldn't deny that she looked as radiant as ever. her white matron uniform seemed to glow against her permanently tanned skin and her saucer-like blue eyes were a stark contrast to the brown hair that fell in waves under her cap.

"oh, that's too bad. let's look at this ankle, alright, angel?" she spoke then, after assessing the boy in front of her. her voice was silky smooth like honey, and it felt as though it were lulling charlie to sleep. the child obviously felt the same way, as he simply nodded and closed his eyes. she placed her thin fingers tenderly on the boy's ankle and began pressing lightly as she assessed the damage.

he watched eyed her fingers closely, admiring the precise effort. a dainty gold ring rested on her right index finger, and it looked to charlie like it was made just for her. her fingers worked quick and nimble, fluttering about the boy's skin.

she was deeply aware of charlie staring down at her as she worked, and she felt weirdly self conscious at his presence. not that it was particularly hard to make her self conscious, but charlie weasley of all people?

his overpowering, dominating presence was something she'd remembered from all those years ago but she still never quite remembered how large he truly was. he was tall, almost an entire foot taller than her, but he was wide too. his broad shoulders gave way to muscled arms toned from his work with dragons.

so many thoughts raced in her mind. why was charlie here? what did he mean, our lesson? the last she'd heard from the twins, he was still in romania working on the dragon reserves. he'd returned after the battle of hogwarts with a newfound passion, and she knew fred and george wouldn't keep something like his return from her.

she couldn't dare sneak a glance at him, for she was afraid that he'd already be looking at her. she's briefly noticed that his skin was still tanned from his time spent in the sun in romania, and his hair was longer now than she'd ever seen it before. it was a mess of curls that nearly reached his shoulders. he seemed as built as ever, tossing this poor boy around as if he weighed nothing.

thankfully, the boy's ankle was only sprained and he didn't need to be treated for any sort of head injury. she retrieved a simple tonic that she'd just brewed and held it to the boy's lips.

"drink this, alright, angel? then i'll let you sleep a wink and you'll be on your way." the sound of her voice roused the sleeping little boy and he glanced at the small cup in her hand. charlie watched in awe as one of his most timid students took the tonic without a second guess. "fantastic job, love. now, rest a bit. you'll be alright when you wake up." she spoke again, gingerly taking the cup from the boy's hand. she smoothed his hair down tenderly and smiled at the boy which seemed to be all that he needed to fall right asleep.

after a few moments, charlie had joined annabel at her desk as they let the boy rest.

"i'm terribly sorry about earlier. i'm not sure what came over me. i just really wasn't expecting to see you standing there." charlie whispered with a slightly embarrassed look on his face and a pink tint to his cheeks.

embarrassed? since when did charlie weasley get emarrassed?

she couldn't help but smile at his soft voice, trying desperately not to wake the sleeping boy.

"there's no need to whisper, charlie. he's out like a light for the next hour." at her comment, in her normal voice, the tips of charlie's ears grew pink. she brought her hand up to cover her mouth as she let out a light chuckle at his sheepish grin.

she'd never seen charlie, who worked with dragons for a living, become embarrassed about anything. not that she'd had a lot of interactions around charlie, but she sensed that this definitely wasn't like him.

she quite liked it.

she lightly shoved his bicep playfully before sighing dramatically and shaking her head.

"oh, don't worry. it was only fred and george that i was going to tell how just the sight of me rendered their dear brother utterly speechless, but they're quite on my nerves at the moment." she couldn't help but laugh now as charlie's face fell. he couldn't help but smile as she stood beside him with a hand over her chest laughing.

"fred and george? on your nerves? nah, that can't be right." charlie teased back when her laugh had turned light. she nodded her head up at him before pointing to her massive bouquet.

"they started this week off in my good graces but... not mentioning your return? that's grounds for the silent treatment until at least next week." as charlie looked at the flowers, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of his brothers shopping for a bouquet at the market. as his eyes scanned her desk, he noticed a photograph of her in her grandfather's arms. annabel held a small bowtruckle, the very famous pickett no doubt, and her grandfather looked down at her with the biggest smile on his face.

he also noticed a tiny dragon figurine that had been enchanted to move and walk. it caught his attention because it was an opaleye, a dragon that he'd never had the chance to work with before. he knew there must be a story behind it and he desperately wanted to ask about it, but what she'd said registered in his mind and caught his attention.

"oh, fred and george don't really know i'm here either. i mean, they knew i was coming, but i've come straight here for my post. i haven't written them to let them know i'm officially in town." it didn't escape his attention how much of an emphasis she was putting on her knowing that he was in town. he didn't however, want to let his fantasies run wild and morph into him thinking that that was because she'd missed him.

she'd given him a bit of an inquisitorial look, like she was wondering why he hadn't written to tell his brothers he was back from romania, but she didn't question him outright.

an awkward silence fell upon the pair as they stood beside each other. it was becoming quickly apparent to charlie that he'd never actually been left completely alone to speak to her. he'd always had someone else there to mitigate the conversation, and he was finding it incredibly hard to speak to her.

he didn't know why, no woman had ever left him without words. he certainly had never been nervous around anyone, let alone a woman. he didn't really even know what it felt like to be self conscious, but he suspected that it felt something like what he felt like now.

"what is it, pick? would you like to meet charlie? he's very kind." charlie's attention was drawn from his shoes back to her face, before he glanced down at the tiny green leaf poking out of her breast pocket. his eyes immediately widened and his jaw dropped in shock.

"is that..." he trailed off, marveling at the small creature who was now poking his head completely out of her pocket. annabel smiled up at him and nodded her head. without thinking, she glanced over at the photograph on her desk before looking back up at charlie.

"pickett, meet charlie weasley. charlie, meet pickett." she introduced the two, holding her hand out for pickett to climb on to. pickett took his usual place wrapped around her finger. he glanced cautiously at the burly man that stood before him.

"it's a pleasure to meet you, pickett." charlie spoke softly, knowing that bowtruckles were normally shy. pickett glanced between annabel and charlie a few times, causing annabel to give him a weird look. pickett finally pointed to charlie and then back to annabel before giving her an exasperated look.

"charlie, i think i've got an idea. would you like to prank your brothers?"

[miracleonice87]

Congrats!! Maybe #7 with Beau? Please and thank you! :)

“You still have this?” with Anthony Beauvillier (from the oldddd 2 year tumblrversary prompt list)

- - -

Your best friend was finally back home for the summer, which meant that the two of you would spend virtually every waking moment together from now until he returned to Long Island in September. You lived for your summers because you felt like you were you again, spending the long, warm days and chilly, starry nights with Anthony Beauvillier by your side, just as you had since you’d first met him in nursery school, up until he moved away to play hockey.

And it would all start again tonight.

Anthony had booked you for dinner weeks ago, when the Islanders’ season had come to its unceremonious close and he had begun planning his journey back to Quebec for the offseason. You’d giddily tapped the date – the calendar date, that is, because this was certainly not a date date… dinner with Anthony did not constitute a date – into your calendar and had been counting down the days ever since.

And despite all that time to plan and prepare, here you were, with ten minutes until he was supposed to pick you up, still in front of the mirror trying to finish your hair and makeup. You’d thrown outfit after outfit onto your closet floor as you deemed each, in its own way, unworthy of your first night back with Anthony in months, a task which had eaten up an hour and a half of your evening, before you’d finally settled on a simple white cotton sundress adorned with tiny yellow flowers, an oversized denim jacket to keep the chill away after the sun set, and a pair of white wedge sandals. Now that the hardest part was decided upon, you were hustling through your everyday hair and makeup routine when the doorbell rang, immediately upsetting your pulse while simultaneously bringing the biggest grin to your quickly-heating cheeks.

You flew out of your bedroom and bounded down the stairs of your townhome, the skirt of your dress flouncing around your thighs with every bouncing step. As you came to the bottom and flung open the front door, Anthony’s crystal blue eyes met yours, and his soul felt at once quieted and stirred, his wide smile only growing as you threw your arms around his neck and held him close before even greeting him verbally. His hands eagerly encircled the small of your back as best they could with the generous assortment of – what other color but – yellow summer flowers enveloped in brown paper in his grasp.

“Ma moitié,” he said as if the term were sacred, brushing his lips across your temple just for the briefest of moments, which was still enough to set your skin ablaze and stand every hair on your neck up straight. “I missed you,” he told you as he pulled away, allowing his hands to linger on your hips, his broad chest just inches from yours.

“I missed you too, mon chou,” you replied, then nervously ran a hand over your half-done hair, the status of which you had wholly forgotten about from the moment the doorbell rang, until now. You forced yourself to part with him and crossed back over the threshold. “I’m sorry, I should’ve been ready by now, but I couldn’t decide what to wear,” you admitted, then mentally face-palmed for sharing that somewhat embarrassing tidbit. “So, uh, I still have to finish my hair and makeup, but I just need a few more minutes, I swear!”

Anthony’s brow crinkled as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “You do?” he asked sincerely. “I think you already look amazing.”

To keep him from seeing you squirm, you rolled your eyes and brushed him off, a smirk appearing on your lips despite your best efforts. “Shut up,” you muttered as you turned and headed up the steps.

As Anthony followed close behind, he tried his damnedest not to let his eyes settle for too long on your derriere and how shapely it looked in the short dress you’d chosen. He swallowed hard and focused instead on his own shoes as he climbed the staircase behind you. He’d always loved the way you looked in a sundress, but he had never quite been able to bring himself to say so, and he certainly couldn’t do so now, immediately after complimenting your physical appearance.

He cleared his throat and changed the subject instead as he followed you into your bedroom.

“Excited for dinner?” he asked, the question striking him as unbelievably lame even as you threw a smile over your shoulder and sat back down at your vanity.

“Of course I am,” you answered easily, picking up your blush brush to stipple across your cheekbones. “Always excited to spend time with you.”

That last sentiment you’d tacked on at the end warmed his chest and pulled the corners of his lips into a nervous smile. To attempt to hide this reaction from you, he turned away, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts and busying himself by staring at the framed photos and dainty trinkets on your dresser with a concentration far too intense for the mindless task. As you continued your beauty routine, his eyes settled on the ceramic tray on the corner of your dresser, imprinted with your initials and holding eight or ten pieces of memorabilia from the story of your life thus far.

Though he had never before been in a position to look closely at the tray, many of the items were familiar to Anthony; he knew their story backwards and forwards. The forget-me-not encased in resin that was handed down from your grandmother, the high school class ring that matched his but was engraved with your last name and graduation year, the pin that had adorned your gown when you graduated from university with Anthony in the audience, the necklace adorned with an imprint of your childhood dog’s paw which your parents had gifted you after he passed away, and several more.

But there was one that took him completely by surprise, one he had somehow never seen. He picked it up slowly, a quiet “wow” escaping him. You apparently hadn’t heard it, as you didn’t react but instead nonchalantly twisted your hair into a quick updo and secured it with pins.

“You still have this?” he eventually spoke, only a touch louder as he was having difficulty finding his voice again after the discovery.

You looked over your shoulder again to find in his hand the red and blue paper ticket from his very first NHL game, which was played on perhaps the grandest stage of them all – Madison Square Garden. You could still remember telling him prior to the game that it felt like the end of a cheesy Disney movie.

“Yeah, back when tickets to your games came in hard copy form,” you joked as you zipped up your makeup bag, skimming over the sentimentality of the moment to avoid feeling embarrassed about having the ticket out on your dresser for the world to see instead of tucked away and hidden for your eyes only.

Anthony, meanwhile, turned, studied, and grasped the ticket as if it were an ancient historical document. He was silent for the longest of moments, and just when you were about to try to coax him to forget about the ticket and head to dinner, he spoke again, this time with awe lacing his every word.

“I can’t believe you kept it.”

You stood up from your chair and joined him at the dresser. Not only had you kept it, he realized, but you had written an inscription on the back.

Anthony’s first NHL game and point - 1 assist - 10:52 TOI

Well, there was no backtracking this now, you realized.

“Of course I kept it,” you said softly, hand resting gently on his back. “Not every day your best friend makes his NHL debut and you get to be there to witness it.”

Best friend. Best friend, best friend, best friend. The words reverberated in Anthony’s brain. The term had always seemed too insignificant, too inconsequential, too frivolous to him to describe what you meant to him, what you always were to him. Especially now, after seeing this ticket from seven years ago displayed prominently among a handful of the most sacred possessions you owned, the term “friend” seemed too light and airy to describe the depths, the significance, of his feelings for you.

Suddenly, all because of a silly single slip of paper, it all came together for Anthony. His mouth went dry as he rifled through his mind in search of the proper words to adequately explain all of this to you, this fault line in the plain of your relationship, but none sufficient came to his lips. Instead, as you studied him with intrigue as to what he could possibly be thinking and whether he thought you were a total stalker freak, he looked at you, through you, and gently grasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss that felt all at once sudden and also the most natural thing in the world.

As you smiled into the kiss, your hand wrapping around his, you thanked your lucky stars and your mildly obsessive collector tendencies that you had kept the ticket after all.

[neochan]

GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

[theowritesstuff]

“your lips look cold, want me to warm them up for you? “ with Jake Martin?

Persistence

Jake Martin x gn!reader

Jake Martin Taglist: @bb-skyrunner @rishlurh

General Taglist: @neptuneswritingwork @violetrainbow412-blog

If there was one thing Jake Martin was, it was persistent. Others may say stubborn, which was a close second, his persistence very much outweighed his ability to keep up an argument.

Sure, Jake was stubborn when it came to fighting with Jessie, flashback to the sauna incident, but you knew that when he wanted something, and set his mind to getting it, there was no stopping him.

And right now, Jake wanted one thing: you. Everyday that you worked at the garage Jake threw pick up lines at you. You had known that Jake was somewhat of a player, able to coerce anyone he wanted to his bed, then move on to the next person. You’d be damned if you let that happen to yourself.

As time went on, and you actually got to know the driver, you realized he wasn’t what you’d originally thought. Sure, he hopped from person to person, but he didn’t leave a string of broken hearts behind him like you thought. It seemed that those who involved themselves with him were looking for the same things they were- just some fun.

Jake was actually really sweet. A little clueless, but sweet nonetheless. He’d make you laugh with his sarcastic remarks that usually never meant what he thought they did, and he never failed to make you smile while in the office.

You were hired to be Catherine’s assistant. When she introduced you to the rest of the group, they all seemed hesitant at first. All except Jake, who put on his charming smirk, leaned toward you, and greeted you. Of course to which both Catherine and Kevin responded with a very firm, and quite loud, “No!” Jake pulled himself back, a soft pout taking over his face.

The team got used to having you around the garage in no time, often making comments about how much nicer you were than Catherine, and offering you their sympathy because you had to do anything she said. Kevin and Beth were both like parental figures, while Chuck and Amir were kind of like an uncle and a cousin. And Jake? Well, he was something else.

Now, Catherine and Kevin would be fools if they thought simply telling him “no” would deter Jake from flirting with you. He’d throw you comments about how you looked, or about how you made his heart skip a beat.

There were moments you’d try to explain something to him because Catherine said, “I don’t feel like dealing with him today.” And you’d look up from your tablet to see Jake staring at you, smiling.

“What?” You’d ask him.

“Your eyes are really pretty, sorry I think I drowned in them.” He’d smirk at you, causing you to feel a heat on your face.

“What-I- Jake? Were you even listening to me?” You sputtered out.

“Of course I was, I could listen to you all day.” He might not have been good at recalling important information, but boy was he good at charming someone.

Other days you needed to speak with him, you’d find Jake in the gym. As soon as he noticed you in the doorway, he’d stop whatever he was doing, whether that be letting the car on the sim crash into the stands, or dropping weights to the floor. He’d stand up, and lean against the wall, probably too close to you for just a friendly work conversation.

You talk to him about whatever needed to be discussed, his schedule for the week, or an upcoming race, and wait for him to answer any questions you asked.

Jake had a bad habit of drawing these conversations out. He’d answer slowly, or ask you questions about what you were saying. Other times he was less subtle about his flirting.

He’d take his hat off, and run a hand through his hair, flexing the muscles in his arm, as his hand pulled the hair out of his face. You silently thanked whoever invented the muscle shirt whenever this happened. Sometimes he’d just pull the bottom of his shirt up, using it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. You couldn’t help but stare at the six pack on display, or the v-line that was cut off by his sweatpants.

Jake knew the affect he had on you, he’d have to be stupid not to know. Yes, people would say that he wasn’t the brightest, and yeah, he wasn’t, but that didn’t stop him from noticing how flustered you became around him.

One of his proudest moments was when Catherine’s new uniforms came in. You had brought the box in, and started handing them out to everyone. They all complained about having to wear uniforms in the office, or about just having a uniform in general. Jake however, saw this as an opportunity.

“C’mon guys, they can’t be that bad.” He said, unfolding his. “If rock hard abs make anyone uncomfortable, look away.” He reached a hand to the back of his neck and pulled his shirt off in one swift motion.

Chuck complained about Jake’s need to undress in front of everyone, while you openly started at him. He took his time in putting the new shirt on, and once he was finished he looked at you, and sent you a wink. You quickly shook your head, as if trying to get out of a daze, and continued handing out shirts.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Jake didn’t flirt with you. Catherine told you that she could talk to him about it, or maybe you could simply tell him you weren’t interested in him and he would stop, but you couldn’t let either of those happen, because you were very much interested in him. He was cute, funny, a little goofy, a lot charming. Of course you were interested in him.

Now you were all gathered on a bus, driving to a race. You were the second one to get on the bus, after Catherine. She had rented a bus that had enough rows for everyone to have their own space, but that didn’t stop Jake from taking the seat next to you.

“Mind if I sit with you?” He asked.

You shook your head, and pulled out your headphones, looking for a distraction from the man occupying the space next to you.

You would be driving overnight, so you got comfortable, leaning against the window, letting yourself drift off to sleep. When you woke up however, you were leaning against Jake’s shoulder. You had an arm looped through his, and were holding his hand, his fingers laced with yours. His head rested on top of yours, and you could hear him snoring softly. You decided it would be best to just close your eyes again, and let him be the first to wake up.

When you woke up again, it was because Jake was nudging you.

“Hey sleepyhead, we’re here.” He said softly.

You pulled yourself from him, and stretched. You got off the bus with the rest of the team, however you followed Catherine around while everyone else went to get the car ready.

You followed Catherine back to the pit before the race. Jake was clad in his blue racing suit, talking to Kevin. When he spotted you, he smiled, excused himself, and walked up to you.

You had your arms wrapped around yourself, and were shivering.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked, placing his hands on your arms.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just a little cold. I accidentally left my jacket at the office.” You said.

“Oh, wait a second.” Jake said, before leaving you. He walked to a corner where he had his bag. He dug around for a few seconds, then pulled out his jacket. He walked back over to you, and handed it to you.

The familiar beige suede felt soft between your fingers, the heavy material thick enough to keep you warm.

“I don’t need your jacket, I’m fine-”

“Dude, you’re shivering. Just take it. I have no need for it right now.” He shrugged.

You sighed, then put the jacket on. The sleeves fell just past your fingertips. Jake couldn’t help but laugh.

“You look really cute in my jacket.”

There was something different about this comment. Almost every time he flirted with you, he was trying to get a reaction from you. But this time he just said what was on his mind. He wasn’t trying to get you to blush, or make you flustered. He was just being sincere.

You quickly thanked him, and exited the pit. You went up to the booth, and slowly the rest of the team made their way up too. Beth did a double take when she saw you.

“Is that Jake’s jacket?” She asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

You shoved your hands in the pockets and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“Ooo!” She squealed.

“Shut up!” You said. You meant to sound firm, but you couldn’t help but smile.

Your eyes were glued to Jake’s car the entire race. He actually came out unscathed this time. He didn’t hit anyone, or get hit by anyone, the car was still in one piece. He even scored in the top ten.

When everyone met back up with him in the pit, they all cheered for him, and gave him hugs. He thanked them, his excitement evident on his face.

He caught sight of you, and made his way over.

“Did my jacket keep you warm enough?” He asked, smirking.

“Yeah, it did actually, I might keep it for myself.” You told him, pulling it tight around you.

He laughed and shook his head.

“Hey, wait a second,” He furrowed his eyebrows, and cupped your face in his hands, taking a step closer to you. “Your lips look cold. Want me to warm them up for you?” He asked, his smile returning to his face.

In that moment, Jake expected you to laugh, and push him away from you. He expected to continue this dance of endless flirting. Your actual response though, was the last thing he expected.

“Yeah.”

The cheeky smile fell off his face instantly. You said yes? You never responded this way when he flirted with you.

“What?” he asked, still a little dumbstruck.

“Kiss me Jake.” You said. Your hands grabbed the belt of his racing suit, and pulled him even closer. You pressed your forehead against his, and looked into his eyes.

He moved one of his hands to tilt your chin up ever so slightly, just enough so that your lips were pressed against his.

The kiss started out soft, but slowly grew more passionate. Jake’s tongue found it’s way into your mouth, his hands traveled down your body. His right hand gave your ass a light squeeze, before you pulled away from him.

“Jake!” You breathed out, almost ashamed that it almost sounded like a moan. “We’re in public!”

“Right, right.” He said as he pulled himself away from you completely. He ran a hand through his hair.

“Jake! C’mon! You’ve got interviews!” Catherine called out to him.

He quickly ducked down to kiss you again.

“I’ll see you after.” He said, pointing at you, smiling.

You laughed, and shook your head.

Jake Martin always got what he wanted in the end.

[cherrycheridarling]

dap me up | t.h.

tom holland x actress!reader

warnings: somewhat smut? swearing and fluff

summary: during an interview for your new film, tom exposes your odd routine during intimate scenes and your favourite flower.

a/n: i got carried away. there's a lot going on in here. enjoy?

wc: 2.6k

"Hello! I'm Adrien Fox with Pop Sugar and we are here with stars of the new film 'Week Off', Tom Holland and Y/N Y/L/N!" Adrien introduced you and Tom to the cameras.

You and Tom gave little waves, "Hello!"

"Now, let's get right into it."

Adrien began asking generic questions while you tried your best to prevent any spoilers from leaving Tom's lips.

"Can you explain the movie a bit to anyone who is unfamiliar with the book or hasn't watched the trailer?"

Tom opened his mouth to speak before closing it, "I think I'll let Y/N do that."

Adrien laughed before you spoke, "Yeah, um. It's basically a comedy with a little rated R content. Some romance, but mostly raunchy and hilarious stuff. It follows the employees in this law firm and their vacation away from work. Lots ensues during said trip including relationships, arguments and too much drinking."

"And you guys worked with many famous actors and actresses in this film. Like, Jennifer Lawrence, Emma Stone, Anne Hathaway, Zendaya, Chris Hemsworth, Kevin Hart, Jonah Hill, Channing Tatum and The Rock. How was working with that many iconic people in the industry? You guys are obviously incredibly well known as well, but I imagine some of these people were your idols growing up." Adrien asked and you and Tom nodded.

"Yeah, uh, yeah. It was an honour. Absolutely amazing. Like, I never imagined I'd be making films, let alone films with stars like Kevin Hart and Emma Stone, you know? I'm just really proud of this one and I love everyone who we worked on it with." Tom gave his answer making you nod.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, Zendaya is my best friend and she has been for years, long before this movie came along, but I still got so excited about working with her. Jennifer Lawrence is amazing, so hilarious. You put her and Chris into a room together and it's just comedy central." you laughed with Tom at the memory.

"We've seen in the trailer that you two share many intimate and – may I say – risqué scenes in this film. Was it hard to keep that level of professionalism and friendship while shooting those scenes?"

You let out a little chuckle at the question before Tom rubbed his chin and spoke, "Since Y/N and I are already good friends off screen, I thought it would be awkward filming those scenes, but Y/N does this weird handshake after every take and it wasn't awkward 'cause it just made me laugh."

Adrien laughed a little before speaking, "What handshake?"

You shook your head with a smile as you recalled the first time you ever did the handshake with Tom.

"Ready, Holland?" you had your pyjamas on and were making your way to your mark in the set of your character's hotel room.

Tom nodded before following you in, cameras and crew hot on his heels, "Ready as I'll ever be."

He was shirtless. A pair of loose fitting grey shorts hung low on his waist. His costume for this scene as Niko Sai.

A black silk slip hung carelessly off of your frame. Ending at the middle of your thighs, v-neck dipping low on your chest. Your costume for Kora Patel.

"We're going to take it from Tom's line; 'You want me just as much as I want you'. Okay?" you and Tom gave a thumbs up, "Action!"

"You want me just as much as I want you. Everytime you sneak a glance at me and you think I don't see, but I do because I'm already looking at you, Patel." Tom walked behind you, looking at you through the mirror in front of you. "I don't blame you, I am incredibly good looking." he smirked to himself.

"I'm guessing you couldn't fit your shirt over your ginormous head?" you rolled your eyes.

Tom's smirk only grew, "Is that a little bit of drool on your mouth, Patel? Who knew the Kora Patel had a thing for Niko Sai? Oh, the Lord is good."

You rested your hands on the sink and leaned forward, "This is a useless conversation, Sai." you turned to face him, "I feel nothing for you. Don't you get that?"

He stepped closer to you and cupped your face in his palm, "Yes you do, you just don't want to." his face showed pain, all humour drained from his character.

You shook your head with a dry laugh, "You're only trying with me because it's convenient. The company's quiet little Kora Patel, right?"

He took another step towards you, holding your hip in a tight grip, "That's a lie. Nothing about us is convenient."

You chuckled before your hand flew to grasp his hair, tangling your fingers in his curls. Your other hand pressed against his pec. Nails tracing patterns on his skin. Tom's breath hitched along with yours as his body automatically drew closer to you.

You tightened your grip on his hair, "It is convenient because you know I keep to myself. You know that I won't go running my mouth about how long you last or if size really does matter. You know that I'm an easy one to fuck," you pulled him closer, "And toss aside, right, Sai?"

"No." Tom swallowed, "You're wrong, Patel."

You shrugged, "I can give you what you want," you ran your thumb across his bottom lip, "Physically." your eyes met his with heavy lids, "Not emotionally. That's why you need Remedy. Not me." your lips brushed his as you spoke, your voice just loud enough for the mics to pick up.

He leaned in and nearly kissed you before you pushed him away slightly by his chest, foreheads still touching, "Let me kiss you." he whispered, sounding so desperate that you nearly abandoned the script and pulled him into you.

You rolled your lips between your teeth, "And if I don't?" you raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

"I'll leave you alone. If that's what you want, I'll go and have a useless one night stand with a girl who could never measure up to you." he pulled your hips flesh against his, "But if you let me kiss you. I promise to show you how much I mean it when I say that I'll spend all night showering every inch of your body with the love it deserves." he brushed his lips against yours again before bringing his mouth to your ear, "Just say the word, darling, and I'm yours."

Your heavy breaths were the only things that could be heard besides the small sound of shuffling behind the cameras. Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips before you closed the distance and pushed your lips to his.

Fighting for dominancy, teeth clashing, hands roaming. Unscripted groans falling from Tom's lips as you tugged on his hair, running your fingers along his scalp. His hands gripped the bottom of your thighs before you jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist.

"I still hate you." you breathed against his lips as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

You felt him smirk, "You sure have a funny way of showing it."

He carried you to the bedroom, gently laying you down and climbing on top of you, never breaking the kiss. His hands running down your sides, squeezing and rubbing. Your lips moving in sync until he pulled away only to attach his lips to your jawline, leaving slow but hard kisses down your neck, leading to your collarbone.

"Still hate me?" Tom mumbled against your skin.

You let out a breathy moan, "More than ever."

"What do you hate about me, Patel?" he lifted up the bottom of your black slip.

"E-everything." you fake gasped as he rolled his hips into yours.

He laughed dryly, "Everything, huh? The noises you're making say otherwise."

"You're such a dick." you moaned.

He smirked against your breast, "You're about to take my—"

"—Don't finish that fucking sentence, Sai."

Soft moans fell from your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist again and pulled him closer to you. He groaned against your skin as the cameras picked up every noise, every movement, every kiss. You ran your nails down his back, surely leaving marks in its wake. His grip on your hips was almost punishing, as if he wanted there to be bruises the next day.

"And cut! Great work, guys. Ten minute break and we'll shoot it again."

Tom immediately got off of you and sat to the side of the bed before looking at you with concern, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

You let out a laugh before shaking your head, "No, you didn't hurt me. Dap me up." you held out your hand and he stared confused.

"What you up?" he chuckled.

You smiled before lifting his hand and doing the movements for him, "Just like that." he finally got it down and smiled.

"You Americans are definitely odd." he teased.

You tossed him a wink as an assistant handed you a robe, "See you in ten, Holland."

"And that's the handshake. It's not really a handshake, more of a greeting. I just did it after our first intimate scene because Tom was acting weird and I didn't want things to be awkward." you explained with a shrug as Adrien and Tom laughed.

Tom nodded, "I thought I hurt her! So I asked if I did and all she said was 'dap me up', like, what?" he laughed with you.

"You guys have really great chemistry on and off screen." Adrien complimented making your cheeks heat up.

You nodded, "Thank you. It took a lot of work to break through his industrial ego." you joked with an exhausted sigh as Adrien laughed.

Tom gasped beside you, "I do not have an industrial ego!"

"Mhm, sure." you joked before reaching over and giving Tom's thigh a gentle squeeze, "I meant indestructible."

Tom huffed and crossed his arms, "This is bullying."

Adrien laughed again, "We have to talk about something," he started and you already knew what was coming, "Lots of fans have speculated that the romance on screen carries on off screen." he smirked.

You and Tom laughed nervously. Almost awkwardly.

The situations that you went through with Tom while filming definitely built your relationship with him and strengthened it. In all honesty, you didn't know if the feelings you had for him were reciprocated.

In Tom's head, he was adamant that you had no feelings for him beyond the big screen. Both of you were too timid to confess first. His feelings for you developed a few weeks into filming and since then have only gotten stronger as your friendship grew and you spent more time together.

The amount of times that this topic had been brought up today was tiring. Every answer was the same: "No, no. We're just really good friends."

You decided to joke around, "Honestly, I've asked Tom out at least twenty times and he keeps rejecting me." you pouted and sniffled.

Adrien let out a joyous laugh as Tom gasped and choked on air at your words.

"That is not true! She has never asked me out!" he defended himself.

You shook your head with a deep frown, "He's broken my heart too many times. This is probably my last time acting with him." you continued on with the joke.

Tom shook his head furiously, "That is one hundred percent false. If she had asked me out, we would already be dating." he let the words fall from his lips without a second thought.

You fought the instinct to snap your head towards him. His confession catching you off guard. You played it off with another pout and shrug. Unsure if he was joining in on the prank or not.

Adrien raised a suggestive eyebrow, "What I'm hearing is that Y/N just needs to ask you out and we have our new couple."

You fake gasped, "Why do I have to ask him out? He should be asking me out with a million roses and a horse drawn carriage." you flipped your hair over your shoulder.

"You don't even like roses." Tom laughed, "You like dandelions because they turn into those fluffy things that you can make a wish with." he remembered the information off of the top of his head, "And because it sounds like you're saying 'dandy lions' when you say their name."

You nodded with a smile, "A million dandelions then. And maybe I'll think about it." you joked with a yawn making the two men laugh.

"You heard it here first. We have a new couple on the rise. Tom just needs to find a million dandelions and a horse drawn carriage." Adrien laughed again.

Tom scoffed dramatically, "Find? I already have them in my garage, ready to go."

Adrien cheered as you felt a heat creep up your neck, "Did I say dandelions? I meant daisies."

"Got those, too." Tom smirked making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, we need to end this interview before Tom buys all the flowers in Berlin." you joked.

After the interview ended, you said your goodbyes to Adrien and the crew before you and Tom made your way back to your temporary hotel suite for the week of press junkets.

Tom walked you to your room, stopping at the door, "That was an odd interview." he chuckled.

You nodded, "Indeed. It was fun, though." you smiled and he returned the expression.

There was an awkward beat of silence before he spoke again, "T-that whole asking me out thing. You were kidding, right? Like, just a show for the cameras?" he laughed nervously.

You swallowed air before replying with a timid smile, "Y-yeah. Totally. Just for the fans." you nodded again, "Um, I should head to bed. More interviews tomorrow. See you in the morning." you gave him a little wave before turning to your door and pulling out your key.

He nodded with the smallest of pouts before turning on his heel and starting the walk back to his suite.

Just as your hand was turning the knob, Tom's voice called out to you again.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" he spoke in one breath.

You bit your lip to conceal your smile, but it was no use. His question sparked a flame in your stomach that wasn't dying out anytime soon.

You turned with a bright grin, "I'd love to."

His features went from pure fright to relief in a matter of seconds, "G-great. I'll- uh, I'll text you the details. Goodnight." he gave you a little salute making you laugh.

"Sounds good. Night, Holland." you nodded your head before entering your hotel room.

You leaned against the door as soon as it shut. A euphoric glow radiating off of you. You were going on a date with Tom Holland.

Tom happily punched the air. Skipping down the hallway, a new found joy in his step. Chris Hemsworth walked out of his room and examined the gleeful boy.

"What's got you all smiley?" he chuckled.

Tom stopped and smiled, staring at the ceiling, "I just got myself a date."

Chris raised an impressed eyebrow before laughing, "You really are Peter Parker. Night, kid."

"Goodnight, Chris." Tom's smile never faded as he made his way back to his suite.

Not even ten minutes had gone by since he last spoke to you and he already missed you. He pulled out his phone and pressed on your contact.

Tom: sorry i didn't have any dandelions. hope you can make an exception x

Y/N: i suppose but the horse drawn carriage is a must x

[twinkleimagines]

*Lets go camping*

For yours and Drew’s 2 year anniversary, he takes you on a week vacation of nothing but Camping in a national forest with a huge waterfall. It was hard for you to enjoy it at first because of the heat and bugs and just outside in general, but Drew knew how to quickly change your mind on the trip, especially when the sun was setting .

* this is extra extra long with EXTRA smut. Fair warning. 18 AND OLDER.

“ ughhhh” *smack*-

“ ughhhh” *smack*-

Drew chuckled as he watched you sit in your foldable chair by the fire he had going, smacking your arm as another mosquito landed on you. “ God I hate this shit” you mumbled under your breath as you went swinging at another bug on your thigh.

“ c’mon baby it’s only our first day , give it some time it’ll warm up to ya” he stated as he snapped a twig over his leg, placing the two pieces in his fire wood pile.

“ yeah well you could’ve picked like an RV or something “ you stated halfway joking. He shook his head walking over towards you.

“ that completely defeats the purpose of camping princess “ he replied before leaning down pecking your lips.

“ mmm you’re lucky you’re so hot” you moaned out looking at his shirtless body glistening in the sunlight.

“ cmon put your tennis shoes on baby, I want to show you something but it’s gonna be a walk” he stated as he filled his book bag up with water bottles.

“ you’re just trying to kill me arent you” you scoffed as you slid your tennis shoes on before zipping the tent back up. You were semi familiar with North Carolina from being with Drew for two years but Drew always surprised you with different locations he had managed to scope out throughout his teenage and early college years. You were a good 2 miles deep in the woods where Drew decided was a good spot for camping . You didn’t like it because you were so far away from his truck and the road itself, but he swore he had camped there before and knew the area like the back of his hand.

“ we’ll if we’re on the news in two weeks for a bear attack, I hope you know I WILL haunt you in the afterlife” you said walking over to him as he patiently waited for you, propped up against a tree.

“ oh baby I got stuff for cases like that, but I’ve never seen a bear before out here and I’ve been out here more than I can count “ he stated , plopping one of his baseball caps on your head.

“ hm my own personal Tarzan” you joked running your hand down his toned chest. “ so sexy”

***

“ you hear that?” Drew beamed excitedly while standing on a huge fallen tree. You sighed heavily , leaning over placing your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath.

“ yeah I can hear my own lungs collapsing” you exclaimed leaning up against the tree he was standing on. He chuckled at how dramatic you were before shaking his head.

“ no princess the water” he stated turning his head to the right of him.

“ ooohhh finally” you beamed climbing up the tree , walking down towards where Drew stood.

“ c’mon princess you’ll love it” he exclaimed grabbing your hand, helping you down the tree. Within a few more minutes the water was extremely loud, and you were for sure it was going to be a waterfall that you would be coming up to.

“ there it is” Drew beamed excitedly, reaching his arm out. You gasped at the sight. It was Huge and the view itself was definitely worth the walk it took to get there.

“ come on “ Drew said tugging on your hand pulling you towards the water. You both stood on the edge, standing on big flat rocks that lined the edge of the river . “ let’s swim” Drew said before kicking his shoes off.

“ my bathing suit is at the tent” you said frowning.

“ no one will be anywhere near here just wear your underwear.” He said as he pulled his black shorts down, his tight gray briefs outlining his figure.

“ the thing is” you started as you pulled your Jean shorts down, wiggling your bottom out, your pink cheekers prominently making your bottom really stand out. You smirked as you watched Drew’s face as you pulled your padded tank top over your head, completely flashing Drew as you had no bra on. “ I don’t have a bra “

“ whewww” Drew replied, his eyes staring at your perky nipples. You grinned seductively as you walked backwards into the water.

“ you coming Daddy?” You purred out, running your hands over the water as you continued to walk backwards. Drew went to respond when all of a sudden he heard a squeal come from your lips as you completely sank under water.

“ oh my god it drops off!” You screamed after you popped back out of water swimming your way back to where you could reach. Drew’s face was red from laughing so hard before he walked into the water towards you.

“ come here beautiful “ he said pulling you towards him by your waist. Your breasts were pressed tightly up against his chest as you wrapped your legs around his waste , your arms going around his shoulders.

“ I know I complained a lot today, but it’s really beautiful out here and I’m really enjoying our time together” you stated, the splashes from the waterfall spraying you and Drew slightly.

“ mm me to too baby” he beamed. You giggled as you felt him starting to grow up under you, pressing against your core.

“ oh Drew” you chuckled out, “ we’ve never had sex in the water before” you whispered to him before leaning down for a kiss. Drew’s large hands squeezed your bottom as you nibbled on his bottom lip, feeling his cock jump against you.

“ you so fuckinf sexy y/n” he groaned, lifting your hips up against his shaft, making you moan out to the friction. “ you just don’t know what you do to me.”

“ yeah? Wanna show me baby?” you moaned out rubbing your nose against his. Drew quickly pulled your panties to the side, pulling himself out of his boxers before sliding himself into you at a quick pace. You gasped out loudly, your mouth opening wide as Drew stretched you out. Despite being in the water, Drews huge member had you moaning loudly as you were grinding your hips up and down his cock, his hands gripping your ass to help hold you up.

“ your pussy feels so good on me princess” Drew groaned out, his breath shaky as you both moved at a fast pace. You threw your head back moaning loudly , tugging on the back of his hair as his plump lips landed on your neck, his hands gripping so tight against your hips as he aggressively moved them up and down his body, surely to leave bruises by morning. You looked down, watching his huge biceps flex with each movement, his shoulders tensing each time he lifted you.

“ oh fuck baby” he groaned out, his hips bucking foward as he pulled you down , going deep in you.

“ you’re gonna make me cum Drew” you cried out, squeezing tightly against his body as you felt the tingling feeling in the bottom of of your stomach , needing to release on Drew.

“ cum on daddy’s dick princess” Drew huffed out, his jaw opened wide breathing heavily as he watched you unfold over him.

“ oh god!” You screamed out as you felt your clit pulsing, your walls clenching around Drew. Just the sight itself sent him over. You bit your bottom lip as you heard him moan a low ‘ fuck’ in your ear as he road out his climax.

Once Drew’s movements stopped, his arms slid up to around your back , holding you tightly against him while he placed sloppy kids along your collar bone and neck, eventually making their way to your lips.

“That was nice” you beamed, grinning as he still held you up.

“ it was “ he said pecking your lips before lowering you back down, your feet landing on the mossy rocks below .

“ I’m kind of hungry now “ you chuckled, floating on your back.

“ okay we’ll swim for a few and then go back okay? “ Drew said while fixing himself back into his briefs.

“ mhm” you said closing your eyes, moving your hands gently in the water as you floated around theswimming hole on your back .

“ do you bring all of your girlfriends here?” You joked. You jumped as you felt water splash on your face . “ Drew! “ you yelled out as you lifted your head out of the water looking at him.

“ I’ve only had like 2 before you and I never brought them here “ he stated before rolling his eyes. He hated when you would say stuff like that even though he knew you meant it as a joke.

“ I wouldn’t have cared if you did baby” you said swimming over to him.

“ that so ?” He questioned smirking at you. You grinned before jumping out of the water, leaping onto him causing you both to fall over and land under water.

For the next hour it had become a full blown wrestle match between you and Drew. Most of the time it was you getting tossed in the water but you did manage to get him a few times.

You both got dressed quietly , just enjoying the peaceful sight of nature.

“ you ready princess?” Drew asked as you slipped on your shoe, standing up and brushing your bottom off.

“ yup!” You stated, walking over towards him.

*******

“ that’s so nasty” you replied as you watched Drew eat a burnt marshmallow.

“ it’s so good” he muffled out, sucking some of the marshmallow off his thumb. You raised an eyebrow at him before placing your golden brown marshmallow in your mouth, a string of it falling down your chin.

“ let me get it” Drew suggested before taking his finger, wiping the string of sticky mess off your chin. You bit your bottom lip as you watched him stick his finger in his mouth licking it off, the same way he did back at home when he would lick your juices off his finger after fingering you.

“ stop” you said shaking your head looking over at the fire.

“ what’s the matter baby?” Drew said , his deep voice making you shiver. Drew smirked as he watched you close your eyes . He knew exactly what you were thinking about, and his actions were intentional too.

“ that make you think of something?” He said softly , leaning towards you, The lake water smell lingering off of him. You grinned biting your lip, feeling those oh-so familiar tingles in the pit of your stomach. You looked over at him slightly, your eyes glistening Under your lashes from the fire. You both stared intensely at each other for a second before you looked back at the fire, Drew’s cocky smirk still plastered over his face.

“ if you wanted me to take you into the tent and fuck you , all you had to do was ask” he said, causing you to choke on the marshmallow you had just swallowed, your eyes widen with shock. He laughed slightly at your reaction before standing up, his prominent bulge in line with your eyes.

“ c’mon princess” he spoke, reaching his hand out for yours. Your teeth found their way to your bottom lip once again as you let him pull you up from your chair , excitement rushing through you.

It was dark in the tent, orange lights shining through from the fire. “ take em off princess” he demandedt , tugging on your biker shorts . You laid your bottom on his pillow as you lifted your hips, sliding down your shorts and panties in front of him teasingly, watching him stare profoundly at your now heated core. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the friction before Drew’s large hands spread them back open.

“ relax” he said softly, before leaning down, placing warm soft kisses on your inner thigh. You sighed heavily, closing your eyes as you felt his lips continue to trail down your thigh until they were placed on your clit, sucking slightly .

The only noises resonating through the tent was the sound of crickets, the fire popping, and your moans as you felt Drew’s tongue running up and down your slit, his thumb rubbing circles against you.

“ you taste so good princess” he spoke out against you, his hot breath blowing against you. You bucked your hips up, needing more. Drew smirked before inserting his middle and ring finger, curving them inwards as he pressed them in and out of you at a fast pace.

“Drew” you moaned out, leaning your head back against the pillows in pure bliss .

“ what princess” he responded looking up at you, his fingers still moving at the same pace. “ tell me what you want”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him with your legs wide open.

“ I want you to fuck me Drew” you replied, breathing heavily. Drew immediately hovered himself over you, his lips pressing against yours at a fast and rough pace, his tongue moving against yours. You moaned out against his lips as you felt one of his hands massage around your nipple, cupping them in his large hands. Shortly after he lifted his hips up some to push down his basketball shorts before pumping himself a few times , pressing the tip against your clit. You gasped at the feeling, grinding your hips up needing more.

Drew didn’t hesitate to satisfy you by pushing himself in you, letting out a deep groan as he felt your tight walls around him. He quickly lifted your thigh over his arms, pushing your knees close to your head as he quickened his pace, the sound of slapping skin echoing through the woods.

“ oh fuck Drew” you cried out in pure bliss. Drew pounded in you fast and hard, exactly how you liked it, you watched as his hair moved back and forth against his forehead as he looked down, watching his self move in and out of you.

“ so tight baby” he groaned out. You reached up placing both your hands on the back of his neck, bringing him down to kiss you, His long thick cock stretching you to unfathomable measures.

“ oh god yes baby” you moaned out, feeling yourself getting close. You reached down placing your hands on his lower back , digging your nails in causing him to hiss. “ don’t stop baby I’m close” you said, almost yelling out. Drew leaned up, propping your legs together , placing your feet over his shoulders.

“ fuck princess” he groaned out as he started rocking his hips back and forth at the same previous fast pace again, causing you to throb around him.

“ I’m cumming Drew baby “ you yelled out, leaning your head back. Just the sight of you with your head laid back against his pillows and your back arched, your hands holding your bouncing tits made him come undone, hitting his climax as well. Drew thrusts became rough and irregular before they slowed down eventually coming to a stop.

“ holy fuck” he said out of breath before laying down next to you. You laughed slightly as you felt your clit pulsing from your climax before rolling over laying your head against his chest .

“ you always fuck me so good” you said looking up at him as he brushed his sweaty hair back.

“ oh yeah? “ he responded before kissing your forehead. It didn’t take long before the both of you fell asleep to the sound of the night.

****

It was the last night before you and Drew were going to pack up and go back home . Your whole week had been filled with nothing but laughter, adventures and a lot of sex.

It was late at night, a light rain shower falling over you both. drew was rolled over fast asleep from your hiking trip you had today, while you held the flashlight over one of your books reading it when you heard rustling against the leaves beside your tent. You sat for a second , looking up from your book waiting to hear something. After a few seconds of silence except for rain drops dropping from the tree leaves, you went back to reading your book. It wasn’t long afterwards until you heard it again, this time it was closer and sounded like it was walking towards you. You froze, clicking your flash light off, your heart beginning to race. You started tapping on Drew’s back as you continued to hear moving , fear running through you.

“ hmm?” Drew groaned out but you quickly leaned over him shushing him, placing your hand over his mouth. Drew leaned over trying to look at you but it was pitch black since the rain shower had put your fire out.

“ something out here” you whispered softly. Drew sat up, feeling your body trembling against him. He sat and listened for a second, waiting to hear something.

“ it was probably a raccoon or something” he reassured, only seconds later to be proven wrong as you both heard a growling noise. Your small figure couldn’t scoot any closer to Him than youalready were but your fear made you want to crawl in Drew and hide.

“ fuck” Drew mumbled under his breath , realizing his accusations were wrong. Drew grabbed the flash light from you turning it back on before he reached into his book bag, grabbing the gun his father gave to him for the trip. You knew he had brought it, it was for absolute emergencies- but it really freaked you out that he felt the need to use it at this point.

“ Drew don’t” you pleaded as he leaned up , reaching for the zipper to the door.

“ princess I need to see what it is” he replied looking back at you. You shook your head frantically tugging on his arm.

“ what if it’s a bear?” You replied.

“ we’ll I’d at least want to be prepared and not be stuck in the tent” he stated. You really didn’t want him to go out there but you knew Drew was stubborn to an extent and would probably go anyways.

“ Drew, it’s not safe okay. We’ll just stay awake until whatever it is goes away “ he sat for a second, contemplating. “ please I’m begging you Drew” he sighed before scooting back , wrapping you up in the blanket.

“ fine princess” he said . “ go back to sleep I’ll stay up” . You laid down next to him, while he rubbed his hand over your thigh , quickly putting you to sleep.

***

You woke up to the sound of bird chirping, and the sun shining through the side of the tent . You stretched slightly before leaning over , to see Drew asleep with the flashlight still turned on. You grinned before leaning down and giving him a kiss on the lips.

“Drew wake up” you said pushing slightly on his shoulders .

“ hmm?” He groggily replied , looking over at you.

“ we’ve gotta start loading stuff up in the car “ you relied. It didn’t take him long to get up , helping you grab a few things before getting up out of the tent.

“ oh wow” you exclaimed, noticing the massive bear tracks along side your tent and the fire place. Drew stared at the paw prints for a second before looking at you grinning.

“ Drew you realize you were going to be battling a full from bear if you would’ve went out there last night?” You replied in shock.

“ and you saved me from being that stupid so thank you” he said kissing your lips before going back to the tent, rolling up the sleeping bags.

It was quiet for the next hour as you and him both packed stuff up and walked back for a good mile to his truck, loading things up.

“ so” he said as you strapped yourself in.

“ so “ you responded looking up at him.

“ besides the bear fear last night, did you enjoy your trip” you grinned at him nodding.

“ I really really enjoyed it baby” you said leaning over to kiss him. “ and I enjoyed the sex” you laughed out.

“ oh yeah?” He responded raising an eyebrow. You grinned before sitting back in your chair.

“ want to have one last hoorah before we leave the woods?” He said, leaning towards you.

“ oh Drew” you responded before unbuckling yourself, leaning towards him.

********

As usual, feedback greatly appreciated ❤️

[holy-hyuck]

NCT Dream Reaction: They See You Wearing Their Clothes

warning: there’s like a swear word or two in jaemin’s

by the way, would you guys want me to add shotaro and sungchan as a bonus into these since they’re not in a permanent unit yet?

also no, i absolutely do not have a crush on jaemin, what are you talking about?

Mark

It was so cold, so unbelievably cold in Mark’s apartment. You told him to fix the heating but he’s been too busy binging Netflix to bother. Shivering in your thin tee, you rummaged through Mark’s closet for something warm to wear. If he wasn’t going to get the heating sorted, you were going to steal every last one of his hoodies until he had no other choice.

Throwing the black, oversized hoodie over your head, you made your way downstairs and plopped on the couch beside him, making him turn his attention away from the TV screen and towards you.

“Is that my- Is that my hoodie?”

“Yes, it is. Actually, it’s now mine, at least until you get the heating fixed.” You crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

Laughing, he threw his arms around you and started mumbling into your neck.

“Gosh, you’re so cute, you have no idea.”

You let out a whine, surrendering. This was not how this was supposed to go.

Renjun

You stayed over at the Dreamies’ dorm with the intent of catching up with them since their busy schedule meant you barely saw them - especially your boyfriend. A sleepover and a movie night seemed like a great idea.

The boys already had a table stacked with snacks and drinks.

You made the awful decision of wearing denim shorts, which meant twisting and turning for the first thirty minutes of the first movie Jeno picked until he had to go to the toilet and you paused it.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, seeing your discomfort.

You shook your head, looking over at your boyfriend. “Do you have anything comfortable I could wear?” you asked, a puppy-like look on your face (or at least an attempted one), and he obliged, bringing you a pair of his sweatpants.

Once Jeno exited the toilet, you changed into your boyfriend’s clothes, coming back into the living room. Upon seeing you, Renjun burst into laughter, the already slightly baggy (on him) sweatpants completely drowning out your legs so it looked like you were wearing a trash bag over them.

“Y-You l-look great-”

He managed between laughs, covering his face, his head falling back into the couch cushions as he nearly fell on Jaemin. He was hoping his hand also covered his blush because - although he wasn’t sure what exactly it was - something about you wearing his clothes made him feel fuzzy inside and he hoped to see you in them again - just maybe in different circumstances.

Jeno

Out on the beach with your friends was the best way you could think of to spend the last weekend off before school. You sat on the sand, watching Yeri and Jaemin splash each other with water, their swimming suits soaked. They've been at it for the past fifteen minutes, and it all started because Jaemin drank one espresso too much and threw Yeri into the water.

You sat next to Jeno, both of you watching your friends laugh, and next to him sat Renjun, who typed on his phone like his life depended on it. You and Jeno didn't speak much; you were a bit awkward around each other, you'll admit, but that's only because two months ago, you kissed during a game of spin the bottle, and it was a little more heated than you would like, and now maybe, just maybe, you've developed a crush on the black-haired boy.

It was weird - you've known him for three years, and never looked at him that way. Only after the kiss, you started seeing him as this handsome guy with crescent-shaped eyes when he smiled, and not just a friend who wasn't ugly.

Your two friends finally got out of the water, making their way to their towels and drying themselves off. You shivered, the evening weather finally catching up to you. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you rubbed the skin harshly, hoping to generate some heat, and hoping you'll be making your way back home soon.

Renjun noticed this and shoved Jeno with his elbow, gesturing to you. When Jeno gave him a confused look, he rolled his eyes and started tugging on Jeno's jacket in an attempt to take it off. They had a little fight to the right of you, but you were none the wiser and ignored them until Jeno cleared his throat. You looked in his direction to see him taking off his jacket and draping it across your shoulders before giving you a small smile.

"You looked like you needed it."

You smiled at him. "Thank you." Both of you looked at the sand beneath your feet, heat rising to your cheeks.

To your left, Jaemin and Yeri exchanged a look and simultaneously rolled their eyes. You were both so goddamn oblivious.

Haechan / Donghyuck

You clipped your hair back with the lonely bobby pin in your pocket, pulling the jacket around you tighter to brace yourself for the ruthless winds outside. Exiting the shop with Donghyuck by your side, you picked up your pace to make it home before it became any colder or windier - which it did, a minute into your journey.

The wind made your eyes water and you shrunk yourself, head down, ignoring your boyfriend, who began failing to catch up to you.

Suddenly, you felt something warm wrap around your neck and turned around to find your boyfriend securing his scarf around it, unzipping your jacket to tuck it underneath, then zipping it back up. It left his neck exposed due to the low-cut t-shirt he wore under his leather jacket, and you frowned at the sight of it, opening your mouth to protest before he interrupted you.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. You look like you need it more than me.”

Wrapping his arm around you, thus offering you even more of his body’s warmth, he led you towards his apartment, where he made you hot cocoa and cuddled you until you felt warm again.

You still didn’t take off his scarf, and he never asked for it back.

Jaemin

Maybe you didn't remember much from last night, however, when you woke up with a white, oversized denim jacket hanging from your desk chair, you were reminded of Jaemin - a loud and charming boy from one of your classes - lending you the covering after he walked you home after one too many drinks. In your defence, you bet with your friend that you could handle more shots than her, and won (the vomiting-in-the-garden part doesn't matter).

You got ready and rushed into your lecture hall, sitting somewhere in the middle and eyeing the students to spot the black-haired boy. When you managed to finally do so, he was already talking to one of his best friends, and the professor had started the lecture.

At the end of the lecture, you went up to Jaemin, who again, had busied himself talking to his friend. But when the other boy, Lee Jeno, saw you, he slapped Jaemin across the chest to get his attention.

Finally, Jaemin turned to you, taking a second or two to take in your appearance, his denim jacket hanging loosely on your shoulders. He almost laughed, his smile getting bigger than you've ever seen it. In the background, Jeno was laughing his ass off at Jaemin's reaction.

You cleared your throat. "Sorry, I just saw it on my chair today. It's yours right?" You took the jacket off of you and handed it to him once the boy nodded his head. "Thanks for last night, I don't know how I've survived but you certainly made it easier. Anyway, I'll see you later. You too, Jeno."

The older boy waved his hand at you and walked to Jaemin as the two of them watched you leave. "They looked good, huh?"

Jaemin looked to Jeno and smiled. "Fucking gorgeous."

Chenle

You may or may not have gotten too comfortable during your last few weeks of university, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie every day around your house, only swapping out the bottoms for a pair of jeans when going out. Honestly, you couldn't even remember the last time you put any effort into your appearance.

However, the dreadful day came when you had to meet Chenle's friends. You weren't dating for long, only a couple of weeks at most, so you felt the need to impress both them and your boyfriend. Thankfully, the plan to go to an amusement park were cancelled and swapped out for a movie night, so you felt okay with throwing on a hoodie and calling it a day. Spotting a bright blue coloured one in the corner of your bed, and realising it's Chenle's, you quickly pulled it over your head and rushed out of your house after realising you were late.

You were shaking the whole way to Jisung's house, hoping to calm down by the time you got there. He graciously let you inside and introduced you to two other guys and a girl, and you hoped they would spare you the embarrassment of wiping their hands after touching your sweaty palm.

"I like your hoodie," the girl said.

"Oh, thank you. It's Chenle's, actually," you replied after a beat. "Um, where is he?" You looked around, unable to spot the blond boy.

Suddenly, you heard a high-pitched scream coming from your right, an exclamation of "cute!" yelled your way, right before being tackled to the ground by the man-child in question. He pulled the hood over your head and grinned down at you.

"I'm guessing you like it?"

Jisung

Grabbing a book off Jisung's bedside table, you plopped on his bed with nothing but his thick, blue robe on. Admittedly, it was warm and cosy; definitely something you would have to steal. You skimmed through some of the pages of the history textbook before becoming bored and chucking it next to you.

Standing up from the mattress, you wandered around his room, waiting until he finished his shower.

"Hey, have you seen my-" Jisung came out of the bathroom, holding a towel to his chest, "-robe?"

He sighed, looking at you in his garment as you smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Can I have that back?"

You skidded across the room to stand in front of him, going on your tip-toes and giving him a peck on the lips. "Nope."

Jisung shook his head at your antics before going to change into some clothes.

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[alpacaparkaseok]

Spooked

Requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! Thanks for sending it in, I had so much fun with it! :)

Pairing: best friend!BTS, maybe some secret crushes going on? 👀

Premise: You + all 7 members of BTS visiting a haunted house. What could go wrong?

So, so much.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: they are touring a haunted house, so there’s gonna be some scary story/spooky things going on. hopefully there’s enough fun things/fluff to counter it? 

a/n: this was longer than I expected it to be...but I was having fun with ot7. hopefully nobody minds lol

It wasn't your fault that Hobi had never seen "A Quiet Place". He had mentioned it as you scrolled through the options on his TV while lounging on his couch like an overgrown cat. Everyone else was in the process of scarfing down their dinner, popping popcorn, and laughing over whatever Jimin and Yoongi were bickering about.

Obviously you had to watch it.

Naturally, the conversation had drifted to a bit more spooky topics. You'd come back from grabbing more popcorn surprised to find Jin talking about his friend that wanted to open up a house they'd inherited for ghost tours.

After nudging Jimin out of the way, you took up your usual spot next to Taehyung. They all watch you with amused eyes, knowing full well that Taehyung is the only one that willingly scratches your back on movie nights.

"Really, like is it the kind of haunted house where people dress up and scare you?" Jungkook asked, his interest piqued.

Jin shook his head. "No, not really. It sounds like they just walk you through the house and tell stories and stuff."

You and Jungkook share a look, already thinking the same thing. A glance at Hobi shows him clutching a blanket to his chest, caught between the events of the film and the conversation taking place.

"We should go," you ventured, immediately earning a startled stare from both Jin and Hobi. The others chuckle in response, Namjoon swatting Jungkook's hand half-heartedly as he tries to steal more popcorn from him.

"...noooo," Jin began. "It's not like it's up and running yet, they're just working on getting it ready for the fall-"

Jungkook picks up where you left off. "Perfect! We can be their test group. That way they'll know what they can do for the general public, get an idea of what works and what doesn't."

You jump in again before Jin can protest more. "C'mon! And besides, this may be your only chance just to go for fun! Otherwise you'd have to find a way to go without running into all of those people, and have to contact management about it..."

Jin sighs, looking at Hobi who stares back at him with an expression of defeat. You grin, Taehyung chuckling beside you.

"Fine."

It was all too easy. Standing here now, you can see just why they want to open this up for ghost tours. Of course you won't admit it, but you already have chills running down your spine.

Or maybe that's just because Jung Hoseok is currently breathing down your neck.

"Alright," Jin's friend, Gina stands at the top of the steps, smiling down at you all. "Everybody ready?"

Jungkook and Taehyung, completely riled up, let out whoops and cheers while everyone else grunts in acknowledgement. Hobi clings to the back of your jacket, whimpering like a lost puppy.

This should be fun.

Jungkook doesn't bother to wait for everyone else, heading straight inside after Gina. Taehyung and Jimin are hot on his heels, joking about something back and forth. You follow after them, glancing back at Hobi with an amused grin.

"Oh," he realizes that he's still clinging to you. "Right." Extracting his hand from your jacket, he lets you move forward. He remains close behind you, Jin at his side.

Namjoon and Yoongi bring up the rear, hardly paying attention to anything that's going on as they chat about a business they saw not far from here.

"We'll begin in the front study here," Gina adopts a spooky tone as she stands in the candlelight. Shadows dance along the walls, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Suddenly you wish that Hobi was still holding onto you.

Slowly, so as to not draw the attention (and teasing) of the maknae line, you step back until you're between Namjoon and Yoongi.

The two of them smirk down at you, knowing full well that you're already spooked.

"What are you doing?" Jin whispers back to you, eyes wide while he rubs his arms as though he's cold. "Trying to abandon us to the ghosts?"

You shake your head fervently, hoping that they don't notice the way you're sneaking your hand into the pocket of Yoongi's jacket.

"No, the middle is the safest place," you argue. Yoongi gives a breathy chuckle beside you, his hand finding yours in the warmth of his pocket and giving it a squeeze. Thankfully the house is dark enough that the blush on your cheeks shouldn't be visible.

Absentmindedly you link your other arm through Namjoon's, hardly able to breathe properly when he instinctively moves closer.

What were you even saying?

"A-and now you've got three in front and three in back. You're totally safe."

Hobi and Jin look at each other like they know exactly what you’re up to, but don't push it as they suddenly begin walking again. Gina leads the way toward the dining room, weaving a tale of how the estranged wife of the owner of the house swore she would never leave the property.

"Did she?" Jungkook asks from the front, peeking in closed off rooms along the way. You can't help but marvel at his fearlessness.

Gina's eyes glow with excitement, almost as though she were waiting for someone to ask that. "No. Years later, when the owner sold the house, the new occupants said they found a sealed off room in the basement." You gasp, the sound echoing through the hallway. You miss the look Jimin gives you, too attached to the story.

"What..." you clutch Namjoon's arm, the fabric of his jacket bunching in your hand. "Did they ever open up the room?"

Gina grins. "They did. They hired someone to come and open the sealed door. However, the man they hired only got about halfway before quitting. He was terrified."

Yoongi leans down to whisper in your ear. "Are you trying to cut off my circulation?"

It's only then that you notice you've been squeezing his hand with startling strength. "Whoops." Going to remove your hand from his, he frowns, holding it tighter before you can move.

Well, if this isn't a rollercoaster of emotions.

"Why was he so scared?" Namjoon pipes up beside you, a hint of a smile gracing his features as he reads the expression on your face. Oh, you're so screwed. "Did he find something?"

"It's not so much what he found as what he didn't," Gina replies. "But we'll have to save that for last. For now, the dining room. Come on in, everyone."

Hobi looks back at you, a mixture of horror and overall curiosity on his face. “Oh, she’s good.”

Indeed, Gina definitely seems to have a way with words. You’re just having a hard time understanding them as your heart beats loudly enough to drown out any other noises. Yoongi has taken to tracing circles on the back of your hand, which you think are meant to be soothing. 

It only serves to send your heart rate skyrocketing. You stare at the portrait on the far end of the dining room, practically boring holes into the painting of the young woman. 

Breathe, don’t do anything stupid.

“...alright?”

You blink, finding yourself to be the sudden center of attention. Jungkook grins widely at you. 

“What?”

Jungkook repeats his question. “Are you doing alright?”

“Oh.”

Jimin bursts out laughing. “That’s not an answer, jagiya. Need us to protect you from the ghosts?”

Your wide eyes immediately give you away, and even Gina is offering you a look of pity before deciding to continue on with the tour. Before you embarrass yourself even more, you slip out of Yoongi and Namjoon’s grasp, sneaking up behind Jin and Hobi.

“Hello boys,” you drawl, making Hobi nearly jump out of his skin. You earn a laugh from the group, Jin chuckling at his scared friend. Hobi just glares at you. 

“This sucks,” he whispers to you, pulling you up to stand between him and Jin. Immediately they stick to your sides like magnets and you realize that you have indeed done something stupid as Jin’s breath ghosts over the shell of your ear as he goes to whisper something to you.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire, it would seem. Your heart certainly agrees. 

“I’m not scared, you know,” Jin whispers. You take a deep breath, reminded yourself that these idiots are your best friends, not menu items. 

You shoot him an incredulous look. “I doubt that.”

He grins at you, eyes lingering a bit longer than usual. “You’ll see.”

Tearing your eyes away from his and hearing his deep chuckle, you wonder if it’s too late to ask Gina where the nearest exit is. 

Don’t do anything stupid.

“Shall we head up to the attic?” Gina asks. “It’s a small space, we can only go three at a time. However, there are some really interesting old photographs up there that we should look at.”

In the blink of an eye everyone is paired off, and you find yourself face to face with Jimin. He grins at you like the Cheshire Cat, making you wonder if he isn’t the most dangerous thing in this house. 

Jin and Hobi have the glorious opportunity to go up together while Gina leads the way, and several screams accompany their little trip. In the middle of the candlelight in the hallway, you chuckle with the rest of your friends. 

“It’s been interesting so far,” Jungkook muses. “I really want to know what they found in that sealed off basement room.”

Taehyung hums in agreement. “Mmm. Or rather, what they didn’t find.”

“What does that even mean?”

Nobody is given a chance to answer Jungkook’s question as Hobi and Jin come scrambling down the ladder, faces pale even as they laugh. Gina chuckles from above, beckoning the next pair to come up.

Jimin looks at you with an arched brow. “Wanna go next?”

“Sure.” You follow him up the ladder, laughing as Jin recounts how he swore the woman in the photograph blinked. 

The attic is filled with moonlight, and under other circumstances it might be pretty. However, amongst the old heirlooms sits an ominous scrapbook, filled with black and white photos of less-than-happy people. 

Jimin reaches down, grabbing your hand and helping you to your feet as you look around. When he lets go you aren’t sure whether or not to be disappointed. 

You’ve hardly made up your mind when he leads you to where Gina stands beside the scrapbook and slips behind you. A moment later his arms encircle your waist, chin propped up on your shoulder. 

So there’s that. 

Gina points to the first photo, a grim-looking man standing behind a chair where a young woman sits smiling. “This is the estranged wife, before she was estranged, of course. And this is the owner of the house. From what we’ve been able to dig up about his past - no pun intended - he was always deathly serious.”

Jimin hums in acknowledgement, the vibrations going straight into your spine. Unsure of what to do with your arms, you gently place them atop his arms around your middle. 

You swear he smiles for a moment before turning pensive again. “Why did they separate?” You manage to ask, applauding yourself for getting a complete sentence out while Park Jimin hugs you from behind. 

“Rumor has it she cheated on him with his best friend,” Gina whispers, pointing to another photo where the solemn owner stands beside a smiling man. “He was driven mad with jealousy. Terrible, isn’t it?”

Gina gives you a long look, and suddenly you straighten your spine. “I-uh, yeah. Horrible.”

She shows us another photo, explaining something about it while Jimin mumbles out a couple of questions. You hardly process any of it, staring at Gina and wondering if she thinks that you are somehow cheating.

But on who? Jin, maybe? Since that’s her friend?

“Alright, send up the next pair,” Gina croons. Jimin detaches himself from you, suddenly leaving you cold. You turn to follow him, but stop as Gina places a hand on your arm. 

“Yes?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone even. Gina motions for Jimin to keep going, pulling you back to the scrapbook. She tilts her head to one side. 

“Forgive me for maybe overstepping a boundary but...” she motions toward the ladder, where everyone waits below. “Don’t tell me you’re flirting with all of them.”

Your eyes widen, and a breathy laugh comes out. “Me? What? N-no. They’re my best friends, why would I-”

Gina laughs, the sound too loud for the small attic. “Well, they’re flirting with you.” She playfully elbows me. “Speaking from girl to girl...enjoy it. For the rest of us.”

Nearly choking, you frown but nod all the same. “...ok?” When she makes no move to say anything else, you head down the ladder. The boys look up at me with confused looks, Jimin waiting at the bottom to make sure you get down safely. 

“What was that about?” Jin asks, looking a little nervous. “She didn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable, did she?”

You blink at him, wondering for a moment if the boys have always been like this around you. Surely not. It’s just the haunted house bringing out this protective side, right?

Right?

“No, she just wanted to show me something else. She’s actually really nice.” You think.

The other groups go up, and nothing else happens to pique your interest. Gina comes down last of all, giving you a wink before walking down the hallway. 

“I think we’re ready to go down to the basement, everyone!”

Somehow you end up at the front, surrounded on all sides by the maknae line. You crane your neck, looking back to see the older boys all lost in a heated discussion. Hobi catches your eye after a moment, elbowing Namjoon who looks up at you with fake innocence. 

You frown, Gina’s words coming back to you. “They’re flirting with you.”

You must have lost your mind. Was the haunted house really that traumatizing as to make you start coming up with such ridiculous things? How silly of you. 

The feeling of a hand resting on the small of your back has you yelping, jumping to face forward again. Taehyung gives you a sheepish grin. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, gently pushing you forward to stand in front of him. “Are you really that spooked?”

“I...no.” You fail to come up with a complete sentence, but shrug it off. Taehyung smiles brightly at you, gesturing for you to head down the stairs. 

“You seem distracted tonight, are you alright?” 

The way your heart had begun palpitating calms down as you notice the obvious concern on Taehyung’s face. You give him a small smile, allowing yourself to relish the feeling of his fingers splayed against your back as you move down the stairs. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Just distracted by the story.”

Taehyung looks at you for a moment longer, not quite believing you but shrugging it off. He brings both hands to your shoulders as you enter the basement, an obvious chill in the air. 

You fight off a shiver, Taehyung noticing and beginning to rub at your arms in an attempt to warm you up. Gina immediately notices the action, hiding a smile as she pretends to cough. 

“Well,” she says once her ‘coughing fit’ subsides. “We’ve made it to the final leg of the tour. How’s it been so far?”

This time everyone cheers with renewed vigor, although a part of you has a hunch that it’s because Hobi knows he’s nearing the end of this scary experience. The thought makes you grin. 

“Earlier, you guys asked me what was found in the sealed off room. It’s easier to show you, rather than explain.” Gina walks backward, motioning for everyone to follow her. It’s darker down here, only a few candles light the way. Despite being surrounded by people you trust, you can’t fight the fear that sneaks inside of you. 

Rounding a corner, you see a small hallway with a half-open door. Jin curses behind you, clearly feeling just as freaked out as you.

“Remember how the estranged wife said she’d never leave this place?” Gina nods toward the door and dark entryway. “In that room there’s evidence that she may have had an...extended stay here. It’s very small, and the door only opens to a certain point. Almost as though whoever designed it didn’t want to have an easy escape point.”

Chills run down your spine, and even Taehyung’s ministrations pause for a moment as he takes in this new information. 

Jungkook speaks up, ever the curious one. “Wait...her body isn’t still here, right?”

Gina shakes her head. “No, although we think that she may have been buried somewhere on the property. We have yet to find her, though.”

“That...” you shake your head, shuffling from foot to foot. “That sounds so ominous. Like she still walks the property or something.”

The smile Gina sends you is enough to make your blood run cold. “We haven’t ruled anything out.” She gestures toward the door. “Due to fire hazards, we can only have two people at a time in the hallway and in the room. Do I have any volunteers?”

Jungkook’s hand immediately shoots up in the air, and he looks at his hyungs pleadingly. You remain still as a statue, refusing to look up for fear of being called on. 

You swear you can almost hear Taehyung sigh before he speaks. “Well, obviously you have to go.” He nudges you forward, and you whirl on him in absolute horror. 

“What?!” You shout. “How could you betray me like this?! I- no way!”

The boys can’t help but laugh at you, Namjoon clapping Taehyung on the shoulder. Taehyung gives you an apologetic look, shrugging. 

“C’mon, I’ll keep you safe,” Jungkook promises, his big pleading eyes on yours.

You hate how you can never say no to him. 

Gina pats your shoulder as you walk past, laughing lightly. “Have fun,” she croons. “Ok everyone, let’s go into the open area just around the corner-”

“You’re leaving us?!” You shout again, stopping in your tracks. “Noooo, no no. Not happening.”

“Jungkook will take care of you,” Yoongi says over his shoulder. “Or do you not trust him?”

Jungkook pauses, looking at you with those big brown eyes. “You don’t trust me?”

Yoongi chuckles darkly before leaving the hallway, and you know he’s aware of what he did. You’ll have to make him pay for it later. 

Possibly in the form of food.

“No, I do Kook,” you sigh. He extends his hand out to you, waiting patiently. 

You take it a little too quickly.

Gina was right, the door only opens to a certain point, leaving you no choice but to shimmy through. Jungkook inspects the entire area, pointing out what looks to be scratches on the doorframe. You shiver. 

“It’s not real,” he reassures you, keeping his hand in yours as he shimmies into the room. You hesitate for a moment, daring to glance at where your hands are connected before following after him. 

It’s nearly pitch black in the room, hardly allowing for you to see anything. “Can you even see anything?”

Jungkook laughs, squeezing your hand. “Nope. I think we’ll have to wait for our eyes to adjust. You good?”

You squeeze back. “Yeah, I think-”

The door is shut.

The door is shut. 

Suddenly delved into complete darkness, your breath hitches in your throat. “Jungkook,” you whimper. “Jungkook, I’m scared-”

“Shhh,” Jungkook hushes you, pulling you closer until you bump into his chest. “You’re fine. They’re just pulling a prank on us.” 

Without thinking anything other than, I’m too young to die, you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, burrowing your head against his chest as he chuckles. 

“I can’t die, Jungkook,” you mumble into his chest. “I’m too young. I have so much to do. I have a test this week to take, and I’ve studied so hard for it, I have to take it. That’d be so stupid to die before taking that dumb test. And I have to yell at Yoongi or something, I don’t know-”

Jungkook’s giddy laughter pulls you out of your daze, and if you weren’t so scared you would be glaring at him. He laces his fingers behind your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

“You’re so cute,” he whispers into the dark, making every last thought eddy out of your brain. “Have I ever told you that before?”

Finding just enough willpower to move, you shake your head. Jungkook harrumphs above you, the sound almost pulling a giggle from you. Then you remember the situation you’re currently in. 

Jungkook sighs. “Well, you are. That, and a lot of other things. Would you like me to tell you what else I think you are?”

Hands bunching in the fabric of his clothes, you find your voice. “...yes.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Scary smart. It’s horrifying.” A chuckle bubbles up from your chest. “And inclusive. That’s so underrated these days, you know? But you’re always making sure everyone is involved and enjoying themselves.”

You can tell that he’s holding his breath from the way his chest has stopped moving, and you’re about to ask him if he’s alright when he hesitantly runs his fingers through your hair. 

If that wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, he lets out a shaky breath before continuing on. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you those things before.”

You manage a laugh. “I’m sorry that it took us going on a haunted house tour for you to say it.”

Jungkook smiles down at you, your eyes finally adjusted to the dim room. He stares at you for a long moment, and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.

You wonder if you’d let him.

He must see the question in your eyes, but he gives you a knowing look before heading toward the door, making sure your hand is in his. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he says, testing the door and giggling at your sigh of relief when the door is unlocked. 

“Worry about what?” You feign ignorance. Jungkook sees right through your, tugging you along as you head out the door. 

He shrugs, suddenly unable to look you in the eyes as pink no doubt paints his cheeks. “You know...overstepping any boundaries.” He looks down at his feet. “Making a move.”

“Why?” The question comes out before you can stop it, and you inwardly curse yourself. Jungkook smiles softly at your inquiry. 

The sound of everyone chatting makes you almost want to cry with relief. They must be just around the corner, waiting for you to return. 

Jungkook leans over, whispering to you. “Because we have a pact.”

You turn to question him further, eyes wide. He anticipates this, taking long strides until you find yourselves back in the open area with everyone else. 

“We’re back!” Jungkook announces, shooting you a smirk. You can’t help but stare at him, mouth slightly agape. 

A pact?

Gina smiles broadly. “How was the room? Did you find anything interesting?”

You shake your head, trying and failing to stop yourself from overanalyzing every glance the boys give you. “...no. I was too freaked out to even look around after the door closed on us.”

“Yeah, who did that? We didn’t even hear you guys,” Jungkook asks. 

Everyone looks at the two of you before looking at Gina, clearly just as confused. 

Gina, on the other hand, looks absolutely terrified. 

“Ummm...” she begins, rubbing her arms in an effort to warm herself up. “Remember how I said that we haven’t ever found the body of the estranged wife?”

You nod your head but stop, the words sinking in. The hairs on the back of your neck rise up, and you find yourself shuffling over to stand next to Jin, clinging to his arm. 

“Yeah...” Namjoon says, eyes darting around the room.

Gina sighs. “Alright, everyone, single file line. Head out as quickly and quietly as possible.”

You don’t need to be told twice.

masterlist

this has been turned into a series!

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oooh so spooky ;) 

[football-writing]

Ben Chilwell - insufferable

Prompt: "I'd rather argue with you, than kiss someone else." "You can't deny what's between us. We're perfect for each other."

Summary: Ben and Y/N are neighbours. They also seem to argue just about all the time.

Warnings: a little neighbour enemies to lovers something, a LOT of sexual innuendos, some curse words

"Ben, move." Her voice was stern, as annoyed with him as ever as he blocked the way to her door.

"C'mon, Y/N. I just wanna talk."

"You kept me up all night practising that goddamned piano with your stupid windows open. No, I will not talk to you. Now, move." She was getting agitated with him, foot tapping on the pavement as she wished for him to hurry up.

"You listen to me playing piano? How sweet. It's almost like I'm serenading you, isn't it?" He knew exactly what he was doing. How to rile her up and push her buttons. It's not something he had meant to happen - he'd obviously rather get along with his neighbour. But the way she puffed her cheeks, the intensity with which she looked at him as she got more and more annoyed made his belly erupt with butterflies.

"Get fucked, Ben." Was her only reply as she pushed his chest to get to her door, Ben gladly taking a step aside with his arms up in surrender and a shit-eating grin on his face. God how she wished she could wipe it off of him.

"Sure. You free tonight?"

She'd opened the door then, stepped inside and smacked it straight in the poor boy's face.

He wondered if the sexual comment was perhaps taking it a bit too far - knowing she didn't mean it like that at all. He wondered if he should knock on her door to apologise, too. But just then, her frontdoor opened again.

"And by the way, the piano sounds absolutely horrendous." Smack. She immediately closed the door again.

He let out a boisterous laugh, then. Her antics were just so cute.

"Can't get better if you don't practice." He yelled through the closed door.

"Leave me alone, Ben. I'll call the cops for stalking." Her muffled voice sounded right back, but he could tell even then that she was saying it with a smile.

"Alright, alright. Party at my place tonight. Join if you wanna." He called out before finally leaving her be.

She'd contemplated going, she really had. She wasn't that interested in spending the night at Ben's house, particularly because if his friends were anywhere similar to him, she'd be in for a hell of a night. But then again, she didn't have much else to do, and she could use a good distraction.

So there she was, knocking on his door on what she considered an appropriate time to arrive after the party had started. Perhaps she had peaked out the window to know when his friends arrived, coming half an hour later just to make him sweat as to whether or not she'd take him up on his offer.

"Ah, the queen herself made it." Ben said as soon as he opened the door, taking notice of the outfit she'd picked out. It was casual, but god, did it look good on her. He licked his lips before moving aside to let her in.

"Welcome to my humble abode, darling." He said as he trailed after her through his hall.

"Don't stare at my ass, Ben." She didn't even have to look back to know why he wanted her to walk in first.

"Too late."

She only chuckled as she walked into his living room. People were scattered around, some guys playing Fifa on his tv, others chatting amongst themselves and dancing to the beat of some random pop song. She wasn't entirely sure where to go, or who to speak to, as seemingly everyone was preoccupied with whatever they were doing.

Ben noticed, and placed his hand firmly on her lower back. She twisted her face to look at him, an uncertain look in her eyes, though she didn't swat his hand away.

He nodded for her to move towards the kitchen, his hand staying pressed against the small of her back to guide her.

The kitchen was a little quieter, and she rubbed her sweaty hands against her thighs as Ben got her a drink.

"I knew you wouldn't pass up an opportunity to spend time with me." He mentioned cockily as he handed her a red cup. Though the gesture was sweet, the words accompanying them made her want to roll her eyes. Were all footballers this annoying?

"Actually, just here for the free drinks." She replied as she lifted her cup.

Silence fell between them as she took small sips of her drink. She wasn't quite sure what she expected, but for him to keep standing next to her definitely wasn't it. Eyeing the people in the livingroom didn't lessen her confusion. He'd invited some girls over, dressed in tight dresses to show of their perfect figures. Why had he invited her? To stop from complaining about the noise?

"Are you not going to chat up those girls?" She questioned as she nodded her head in their general direction, not making any eyecontact with the boy next to her.

"Why, you got some sort of voyeurism kink?"

"Hm. Could probably give you some pointers. You don't look like you're very good at flirting." She replied nonchalantly, though her eyebrows raised at his bold remark.

"They're actually my friends' girlfriends." He explained truthfully. It was the first time she looked up at him during their little bickering. He was focused on drawing patterns with his finger on the counter behind them, which meant she could truly observe him.

He's not unattractive at all. His long hair messily falling over his forehead, his strong jawline still visible under his neatly kept beard. She wondered what his body looked like underneath his clothes. He'd always looked quite fit to her, something she'd attributed to his strict workout routine as a footballer. Still, his arms were muscular too, biceps twisting and veins twirling underneath his skin as he kept drawing invisible shapes on the counter surface. She just wanted to reach out and caress his biceps, the unholy thoughts filling her mind as she kept eyeing him from beside him. If he wasn't such an ass, maybe she would've wanted to pursue something with him. Maybe.

"You admiring the art, babe?" He questioned as if on cue, stilling his movements to look at her with a curious smile on his stupidly pretty face.

"God, you're so fucking full of yourself." She spat back as she rolled her eyes in annoyance, turning her focus away from him. He started to lean closer to her side, his arm snaking around her as his scruff teasingly rubbed against her cheek.

"You love it, really." He whispered lowly in her ear. The drop in his voice made her shiver, clenching her legs together. She cursed herself for letting him have this kind of effect on her, and so she composed herself as she took a tentative step away from him.

"I don't. But I'd love if you went to bother those girls instead. Maybe I can have some fun watching you flirt." She held her fingers up, moving them to indicate quotation marks at the last word as she threw him a fake smile.

"I'd rather argue with you, than kiss someone else." He replied matter-of-factly.

"Really, now?" She perked.

"Yeah." His voice sounder hoarse and rough, no effort in concealing the feelings currently coarsing through him. He raised his bottle of beer to take a sip, licking his lips before wrapping them around the bottle. She had a perfect view from beside him, seeing his adam's apple bop as he swallowed, the light perfectly illuminating his plump and moist lips that turned into a smirk as soon as he set the bottle down again. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Unfortunately for him, she could play that game, too.

So she took a daring step closer to him, resting her hand on his bicep that was definitely more defined than she previously imagined. She stood on her toes, reaching to whisper in his ear, her lips 'accidentally' grazing over his earlobe.

"Your little teasing makes me think youd rather kiss me too." She whispered seductively.

He didn't even reply, just grabbed her face to pull her into a kiss. He wouldn't have even thought of doing that half an hour ago, but now that she was teasing him, too, he figured it's what she wanted as well. Which is why he was so shocked when she pushed at his chest, her brows furrowed as her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Gross, Ben, have some decency." She scolded him. Truth is, she was much too aware of the other people in the room, not sure what they would make of their little predicament. Besides, if he started kissing her now, she wasn't so sure she could contain herself any longer. What's this boy done to you?

"C'mon, you can't deny what's between us. We're perfect for each other." He tried to reason with her, reaching out for her hands that she quickly moved out of reach from him. Was he really this oblivious, or was she just playing with him?

"I can actually." She smiled triumphantly at him as she pushed herself away from the counter. "And I don't believe in perfect."

"Y/N." He warned.

"Benjamin." She daringly spoke back, biting her bottom lip as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. So, playing, then.

"You're insufferable."

"So are you." She said as she walked away from him, back to the hallway and opening his frontdoor, he was calling out after her, wondering if he really fucked up for her to be leaving now. She turned on her heel just as she stepped outside, looking right back at him with fiery eyes. He leaned against the doorway to look at her. He wasn't sure he trusted his legs to hold him up when she was looking at him like that.

"I don't kiss before the first date." He smiled at that. If he wasn't intrigued by her quick comebacks and arguing, he sure was now. She was playing his game, and she was winning, too. Though he tried his hardest not to show her.

"So go on a date with me." He deadpanned as he nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Actually, I don't date footballers."

"Fuck you." He let out a laugh, then. One that vibrated throughout his chest.

"Maybe if you ask nicely." She added as she beamed at him, throwing him a wink. He tried to think of something to say, anything. But he was left a stammering mess, eyes wide at her explicit remark as she spun around and started walking the short distance back to hers. She had just swiftly shut him up, something not many people had the gift of doing. He was glad she didn't spare him another glance, because he was sure the angelic laugh that would erupt from her lips would cause his crimson cheeks to burn even harder. Damn him and his stupid games.

Damn her and her ability to see right through them.

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Simply Perfect (Foggy Nelson x Reader)

Summary: Foggy is teasing you about liking Matt when little does he know, Matt is not the one you are interested in.

Word Count: 1,206

You threw the dossier at the back of Matts head, just in time as he turned to catch it, “How do you do that?” you laughed hysterically. He smiled his wide, charming grin and shrugged, “It’s a gift”

You rolled your eyes as he turned his back to pull his coat on, ready to go out into the cold New York afternoon, “I heard that” he remarked over his shoulder.

Your jaw dropped, “Like fuck you did!” You looked over your shoulder at Foggy sitting behind the reception desk, “What is he?!”

“A fantastical figment of nature that one” Foggy laughed, Matt shook his head with a smile. His fingers played with the edge of the dossier where he’d placed it on the table, counting the pages and making sure it was ready for his court appearance. You and Foggy were meeting him at the courthouse in an hour, making sure Matt had time to prep your witness in a calm environment, alone.

“Alright, alright I’m going” he said, picking up the dossier and tucking it under his arm.

His hand looped around your bicep, and he pulled himself to your side, “Walk me down the stairs?” he said, all innocent and pouty.

You laughed incredulously, “Now we both know you’re more than capable. Get gone!” you dug your elbow in his side jovially and he flinched.

Matt waved in Foggys general direction and headed out, pulling the door closed behind him. You were still shaking your head in disbelief as he moved out of sight.

Foggy sighed loudly, a little smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He got up from his chair and moved around towards you.

“Whaaat?” you asked, spinning to face him and perching on the edge of the desk.

He laughed, “I just think you and Matt need to get it over with”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you shrugged in confusion. Foggy picked up the roll of tape that was hanging off a ruler in the pen pot on the corner of the desk. Then you watched as he made a crude gesture of putting his finger in and out of the roll.

You gasped and screwed up your face, “Foggy! Ew no!”

“Oh come oooon” he laughed, “Matt gets all the girls”

“Well not this one!” you protested, “I’m not interested in him”

Foggy looked shocked, “You’re not?”

“NO! He’s annoying!” you rolled your eyes again, “He’s… a little pretentious sometimes and it’s fucking irritating. Plus he thinks he’s hot shit too and that’s also vastly irritating”

Your heart beat heavily in your chest, the truth of the matter was the guy you were interested was still in this room. It was a secret you held close to your chest for the most part, not wanting to make things awkward or weird around the office or in Josie’s after work. Plus, would Foggy even like you back? You’d seen his last girlfriend; beautiful, perfectly bottle-blonde and wildly successful. In your eyes you couldn’t match up to that.

Foggy chuckled and stood in front of you, arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow raised, “Huh, I see! But I thought I overheard you talking to Karen about this guy you liked?”

“NOSEY! And you presumed I meant Matt?” you laughed, standing up also whilst waving your hands in exasperation.

He shrugged, “Lets be honest, it usually means Matt when beautiful women are involved”

You stopped dead in your movements and stared at him, hoping that your cheeks weren’t turning too pink, “Well first of all… t-thank you, but also, you’re right. Just not in this case”

“So, there’s no guy?”

You smiled, playing with the hem of your shirt and chewing on your bottom lip awkwardly, “Oh there’s a guy.”

Foggy looked a little crestfallen and you knew you had him, “Oh?” he replied.

“Mmhmm” you nodded biting back your smile, now or never you thought to yourself.   “He’s cute and funny, he’s got great hair! He’s wickedly smart and the kindest, most comforting person I’ve ever met” you paused to watch his face, “He responds scarily well under pressure, it’s very impressive and just a little bit sexy, and he’s a damn good lawyer too!”

You could see the cogs turning in his head, poker face not his strong suit in this moment. His face lit up at your words, just a little bit, before his expression fell again, “Are you sure you’re not talking about Matt?”

“Foggy!” you protested making him laugh. You loved making him laugh, he was just so handsome when he smiled. It was a simple enough thing that made your chest tighten as your heart fluttered.

“Ok, Ok” he gestured to calm you down, making you giggle, “I getcha. I’m flattered.” He paused, “You do mean me, right?”

Hanging your head to laugh you tried to get out your words, “Yes! I mean you Foggy”

“Oh good!”

There was a silence that suddenly hung in the air as you just stood and looked at each other, playful smiles twitching at the corners of your mouths. You watched the way his breathing changed the more you looked at him.

Then he did something you didn’t expect, he held out his hand to you. After a split second you slipped your hand into his and he gently tugged you closer to him.

“I actually think you’re a better lawyer than Matt anyways” you said lowly.

“You do?”

“Yeah! Sometimes I think Matt just wants to catch the bad guys, you know? It’s like a… glory run for him. But you?” You walked up to him slowly, following his lead, before stroking your hand gently up his chest, “You just want to help people. And I think that’s wonderful”

“I think you’re wonderful” he whispered, looking down at you wide-eyed.

You pushed yourself up onto your toes, steadying yourself with your palms flat against his chest. You were inviting him without pressure, he could give you what you really wanted or he could link his arms around your waist and pull you into a hug.

Thankfully he smiled before ducking his head, you outstretched your neck a little more and sighed when your lips connected. You hummed happily, letting his hands grip at your hips and melting into his frame. The kiss was perfect, slow, cautious and exciting.

“Well, this is a good day” Foggy whispered into the kiss, making you quietly snort with laughter.

“You’re not wrong sir, you are not wrong” you replied, pulling him into a hug. You nuzzled your face into his neck and felt his arms tighten around you. He smelled musky and sweet, the nice cologne his mother got him for his birthday. You noticed how he always wore it to court, probably a promise he made her knowing the sweetness of the Nelson family as you did.

You realised in that moment just how much you fit together; the way his hands were perfect to grip your hips or the way your face fit into the crux of his shoulder, how your arms perfectly looped under his to grip him tight to you or the way you moulded into body.

Simply perfect all round, that was your Foggy Nelson.

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, noncon, profanity, abuse, anger issues, anxiety, arson, bullying, child neglect, child abuse, drugs, addiction, anorexia, guilt, pills, unprotected sex, stalking, trauma

TIP-JAR

PART ONE 

IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM - PART TWO

IN THE TRAILER

She ran away from him in the hallway.

He’d warned her of what would happen if she did.

Knowing it was a matter of when as the next day he was left waiting, grazing the halls of where she’d left him with a kicked ball-sack on the dirty school-floors, all lovesick and frenzied with fire ants raging over his skin and a manic promise that one way or the other he’d get her. Lying in suspenseful spiteful wait to tell everyone what type of slut the little spitball in class 3c General Studies really was.

But, timing was everything, and as the day went by without him spotting her he realized the opportunity to ruin her reputation in school wasn’t going to rear its head.

She was home… 

Sick.

Or, that’s what she’d told the school. One quick question at the reception told him so.

She was home. 

Home in that run-down trailer-park sorry-excuse for a home she despised, the one she cried about so often, the one with neighbours who didn’t give two shits worth a damn about who she was or that her mother was a crackhead-whore in no position to take care of her. 

She was there instead of at school begging him to stop, begging for him to give her a second chance, begging him to kiss her, like she was supposed to do.

Standing outside her trailer, he wondered if whether her mom was home or not. He wondered if either one of her neighbours would care if they saw him break in, if it even was considered breaking in.

He spotted her mother slouched on a beach-chair beside some other trailer with a needle still stuck to her arm, ugly destroyed skin sizzling in the summer-heat, mouldy flip-flops sticking to her feet. 

He cringed at the sight of it, but knew then that his pursuit would go on unprovoked, which at the very least brought him some sense of relief.

She’d gotten in through scholarship as she in no form or way could afford a school like UA. That much was clear, unlike how unclear the crystal-meth shards decorating the plastic salon-table placed on the outside of their van was. 

She transferred half-way through the first year, all on the account of pure hard work.

He could respect that. 

He did respect that. Given she was quirkless and all. It was the reason she’d caught his eye.

It all went sideways when she rejected his invitation to Homecoming.

He’d already gone miles away out of his comfort-zone, out of his element, talked himself into asking her out, only for her to turn him down.

Him.

Best student in Hero-course 1A at the time.

Rejected.

He knew it was petty of him to bully her because of it, but… she didn’t only make a fool out of him, she broke his fucking heart.

He could have listened to Kiri, and tried to forget about her through some other extra, but... he wanted her. He’d decided. She was his. And a quirkless trailer-rat like her was in no position to just say no.

In some sick sense he believed she deserved better. Him being better. But, he would like for her to ask for his help, instead of him just giving it to her. He would like to see her grovel, beg, just a little bit, or a lot. He wanted to see her regret her decision. He wanted to see her sorry. He wanted to see her want him as much as he wanted her. And he wanted it to be her who initiated it.

But… he could see that wasn’t happening. He could see that his unorthodox methods of courting her through continuously trying to bend her until she broke only consisted of her rewinding or snapping back like a rubber-band.

She was distracted, too busy being broken by what life had given her, too busy with juggling different shifts, bills, schoolwork, to be thinking about him and how he pushed her around a bit at school.

He eyed the cracked paint of the faded trailer with much the look of a snob on his face. Fingers brushing over the door-handle, testing how much noise it would make if he were to pick the lock, coming to a complete loss. 

He could barely believe it… the door was unlocked, and when he stepped inside he was even more distraught to see there was no existing lock there to be locked in the first place. 

Meanwhile her mother was too busy slowly dying to better protect her daughter from depraved humans who could come and do just about anything they wanted with her.

Meaning… just look at him.

Soft snores brought him back to where he was once he closed the door behind him. Making the short way to the source of the groggy sounds, feeling his stomach flutter at the thought of how wrong it was of him to be there, sneaking about like some love-obsessed sick stalker, getting turned on by hearing his prey sleep.

What the fuck was wrong with him? 

And why didn’t he care enough to stop?

He stood at the foot of her bed, hands in the pockets of his trousers, head tilted to the side to view her sleeping frame.

Sleeping on top of the covers, not under.

He doubted it was because of the heat, the same way he doubted the mattress beneath was clean.

She was curled onto her side, knees bent and tucked up. Cute with that teddy-bear she used as a pillow, silly and stupid but cute because of it, especially in her uniform despite having left the tie and blazer off.

She was wearing her uniform.

Meaning... she’d either gone to bed with her clothes on and slept through the entire day, or she had planned on going to school this morning, but weaseled her way out like the weakly coward she was.

Well, in that case… what he was about to do would serve her right then...

Ought to teach her lesson.

He lifted his hand out of his pocket, producing a finger to poke her ankle softly, before stroking up a path alongside her socks, all four other digits joining in the stride before the fabric came to an end and his callous fingertips glided onto the doughy flesh of her leg, over the dome of her knee and onto her even softer thigh, coming to the edge of her skirt.

He always liked her in that skirt. 

That’s where his mind was at as he started lifting to see what underwear she was wearing, yet never getting that far as something sharp dug into each side of his wrist.

Her nails weren’t of course any close to lethal, yet managed to surprise him as she whipped around to meet him, digging the talons into his roughened skin.

She might not have prioritized figuring out who it was that was currently touching her in her bed, but she had assessed the situation enough to know that someone was in fact in her house and touching her, something of which is not a good omen when you live where she lived, nor in any other situation for that matter.

He tried subduing the splash of struggles that followed her awakening by climbing and crawling some further up on the bed in order to control what myriad of flailing limbs came at him. 

Soon, hands that had primly started clawing at him were safely locked in his much larger hands.

“Oi, relax! It’s just me!”

As if it being him would have any other effect than of rising her already racing heartbeats. Yet, even as her lungs heaved for as much air as her tight chest would allow her, he managed to capture her focus, her hands pinned to each side of her head whereas her feet were stopped amidst their kicking, crushed beneath the weight of the much stronger, much more encompassing mass and weight of Katsuki’s legs.

He hunched over her, back arching with his face a mere half-foot away from her own, the only thing supporting his upper-body being his arms, which were stretched out and grasping at her wrists, pushing them into her pillow.

Her eyes were large with craze-ridden fear as they locked with his recognizable carmine ones. 

“Bakugo?” 

Shocked and scared, with the creeping feeling of anticipation waving over her again, now all for different reasons then when she first understood there was an intruder in her caravan. 

Somehow, it being Bakugo gave her an even starker unsettling eerie feeling than if it had been a total stranger. Maybe because oblivion is bliss and knowing what is to come makes the inevitable that much more inescapable. 

Still, she demanded he tell her, even though she thought she might already know the answer. 

“What are you doing? Why are you here!?”

“You weren’t at school.” He stated, spoken as though it preforming as explanation enough, though serving as far from it to the girl beneath him, the confusion shown in the way she scrunched her brows together.

He noticed, contemplating whether or not he should make his reasons known, but deciding against it and for playing with her for just a little while longer.

“I thought, since you managed to wiggle your way out of your punishment at school, I’d bring the punishment to you.” 

He searched her features for any cracks in her composure, but though she looked beyond uncomfortable, she made no moves to push him off.

Her eyes squinted instead, narrowing at him. 

“I’m not scared of you, Bakugo. I know you’re not gonna hurt me.” 

Her body started twisting under him. The action far from vigorous, mainly meant to show her discomfort as she knew she wouldn’t go anywhere unless Katsuki decided she could.

And though the intention to her wiggling was not to evoke his arousal, it most certainly managed to do just that.

He inhaled sharply and she felt her body freeze up, seize at the feel of his hips making a shift to slot himself against her, grinding down onto her flattened and unmoving body.

“Hurt you?” 

He let out a low rumble of a laugh, like building thunder. 

“Who said anything about hurting you?”

Her breath strained as his eyes scrunched closed upon her jerking, his own teeth sinking into his bottom-lip to maintain the hiss on his tongue at the pull in his pants, his head descending to nuzzle against her chest, spiky hair poking at her chin. 

Mouth breathing hot breaths onto her ear, causing her to whimper.

“Thought you just said you weren't scared?”

She swallowed thickly, improperly giving his rhetorical question an answer, feeling her wrists go numb under his hold and her blood running cold.

“Bakugo…?” 

He didn’t answer and she felt herself go even more rigid at the absence of his voice.

It wasn’t often Katsuki didn’t speak back to her when she willingly spoke to him. In fact, it was never. But now, he was quiet, too quiet, making the frightening rugged sound of his heavy breathing overwhelm her ears, dulling her senses in the process before everything being sent into hyperdrive upon the feeling of his hand leaving her one wrist to cup her breast outside her shirt, giving the mound a careful and slow yet full squeeze.

She yelped at the sudden attack, her body jumping up against him, making yet another teasingly harsh contact with his clothed cock.

This time he hissed, both upon her delicious little struggles but also because her newly freed hand had actively made the decision to pull his hair as a desperate means of making him move.

It worked to some extent, at least in freeing her other hand which opened for the opportunity to drag herself out from beneath him. 

Yet, the action was stopped in a series of rather clumsy fighting, where Bakugo managed to retract the upper-hand once again, pinning both her wrists with one hand whilst tugging loose his tie with the other. 

He’d slotted himself between her legs now, her skirt spreading and hiking up her thighs as she struggled to stop him from tying her wrists together and fasting them to the handicap-bar mounted on the side of the bed, yet failing.

Her body free for him to touch now, to tamper and play with, and she felt her heart catch in her throat, small pleas coming erupting from the place because of it, but he didn’t seem to hear her, and if he did, he was electing to ignore the pitiful sounds.

His hands traveled down her sides, thumbs rubbing over the scratchy material, the fabric of her shirt stiff as a result of using dollar-store laundry detergent.

White shirt; made up of thin fabric to make the fight against the Tokyo-heat easier, yet resulting in it being so temptingly easy to make see-through with just a little spill of water. Water Katsuki was always so eager to pour, either with light teasing spritzes from his water-bottle or in carrying her over his shoulder into the showers and holding her there as the water rained down upon her, drenching both her and himself, then offering ever so mockingly if she would like to borrow a shirt, because unlike her he had a dorm-room with fresh and dry clothes, whereas she only had that one uniform and all other clothes made up of more holes than actual textile.

He chuckled at the memories as his fingers moved up-front and centre to tamper with the buttons.

“I bet you just hate this uniform, don’t yah?” His voice, although maintaining the snicker, was soft. Not loud and abrasive and rushed, but as though he was enjoying himself, thoroughly at that, drinking in the moment.

His movements too, were slow; careful.

Large warm hands stroking down the bare skin of her stomach, feeling the tremors as he did so, with eyes glued to those perfect mounds found beneath what looked like a well-worn sports-bra, making him wonder what she’d look like if he were to dress her up in expensive red lace. She’d be mouthwatering to look at either way, and breasts are just as soft whichever way they’re dressed… it’s not like the bra is staying on for too long anyway.

He swallowed thickly to stop his mouth from dripping.

He tucked her shirt out from her skirt, taking a moment to grip her midriff and squeeze to try and ease her struggling. 

It only resulted in her thrashing even more, whirlwinds of panicked get-off-me’s and fuck-you’s and stop’s spilling from her mouth in rapids, but the plead seemed to repel off Bakugo’s ears like water off a ducks back where the desperation only aided in satiating his sick sadism, in the same fashion tears fell from her eyes aided in making his stomach churn or flutter with something he could only describe as bliss, her arms trying to the best of their efforts at tugging at her bonds, to no avail except for making the skin found their chaffed and sore.

He spent a few seconds deciding whether he wanted the skirt on or off as he felt up the fabric between his fingers, more memories flushing his mind with such sweet and potent nostalgia of him lifting up the short excuse for coverage in the school-halls every day to sneak a peak at her underwear, or those times he would bend her over classroom-desks and push his bulge where it would fit so snuggly against her ass.

“Kinda feels like this skirt gets shorter and shorter for each year...” He mused, stroking up the skin of her thighs, lifting the fabric in the process, revealing a pair of black cotton boxers which, despite being lackluster, forced a groan to rumble from his chest.

The fuck-you’s had turned to please’s and the change made a smirk curl onto his lips as he put his lips to the inside of her thigh before pulling away to look down at her, all spread open and quivering for him. 

Breasts all perfect, squished together in the comfort of her bra, hair splayed on top of the pillow, her nose turning all red and adorable with her eyes brimming with both panic and tears.

Her skin felt so soft and untouched beneath his fingertips as he stroked up and down her thighs, pulling them towards him, as far as the bonds on her wrists would allow, slightly struggling with how much the panic had taken a hold of her, her legs kicking and flailing.

But he liked it that way. 

Messy and desperate.

“Don’t be difficult, Quirkless, you’re not getting out of this.” He spoke so calmly, so collected and controlled and determined. As though he wasn’t doing anything wrong, as though this was his right. “This is the only thing you’re any good for anyways.”

He leveled with her clothed little sex, slung her legs over his shoulders, watched as she squirmed upon his breath, heard her whimper and plead with his name as he stuck his tongue into the fabric, her legs doing a little involuntary kick while her thighs where firmly secured in his hands.

“Worthless quirkless little pussy on legs.”

She sobbed as his fingers latched around the ribbon of her underwear, pulling, tearing the fabric, with no need to pull it down her legs, just a need to pull them off.

A content and knowing smile made its way onto his lips, yet she was unable to see it in her position, something of which she was thankful for, or… as thankful as one can be when being defiled by a friend. 

Not that Bakugo was much of a friend anymore, but he had been, at some point before he'd offered more than one concerning opinion about quirkless people and their place in the world.

Of her place in the world.

He didn’t share her nostalgia though, not when the future was smiling at him with the face of her shaven warm pussy right in front of him.

“Did you get yourself all nice and ready for me? Huh? Knew I was coming?” He teased as she shook her head sporadically, unable to form any type of words in her overwhelming embarrassment and fear and panic.

He grinned smugly, despite knowing it was due to her spot on the swimming-team she kept herself clean and hairless, also knowing that the only reason she took swimming-lessons was because she and her mom couldn’t afford the hot-water bill, making her take showers at school instead, and that a spot on the swimming-team gave her a free-ticket to using those showers anytime she wanted.

How many times had he snuck in there to watch her soap up her body?

How many times had he palmed his erection to the sight of her?

How much he’d wanted to waltz in and take her against the cold tiles, make steam roll off the walls, hearing her voice echo his name... 

Now he had the real deal though, no more time for fantasies.

She was smart, she was resourceful, but not enough to put a lock on her door.

She was lucky if one thought about it.

Lucky it wasn’t just any random guy who walked in and took her like Bakugo was going to take her.

Lucky it wasn’t just anyone’s tongue jutting out to lick up her spread folds.

Lucky it was Bakugo who was hugging her thighs close to him, using them as soft warm pillows as he nuzzled between them to lick and suck and bite at the little bundle of nerves found right there in front of him.

Lucky it was Bakugo that had her squirming and quaking and whimpering and crying. 

Because, taking everything into consideration, she was safe with him.

Safer than she would or even could be with anyone else for that matter.

Who else could really protect her like he could, like he will, like he has?

She should be grateful he still wants her after she rejected him, humiliated him like she did. She was sure going to pay for it tonight. But first, he could at least treat her to what she had been missing, especially when thinking of how much he was going to take from her before the day let up.

It almost made him feel bad.

Almost, being the keyword, because without it he wouldn’t have thought it funny how many noises she could make without alerting anyone from outside, how no one cared whether she blubbered out common sniveling protests and screams of his name, begging him to stop, or those equally loud yet scarce moans that sprung from her despite her not wanting them to, each time he sucked too hard or too harshly on her clit, teeth rubbing over the sensitive skin found there. Her hips dancing a panicked series of shimming from side to side, controlled in his grasp and only aiding in his tongue finding new places to lick and suck at as he laid abusive worship onto the temple between them. Nose bumping and dipping and rubbing onto places too tender as his mouth moved lower.

Her knees jolting as he kept them spread open, claws digging into the grabbable flesh each time she would pound the ball of her heel into his back, the movement always falling still upon the building simmering threat of explosions in his palms, pain much sharper than that of his nails.

She wanting nothing more but to wrench away, especially upon feeling the shameful treacherous dripping of herself down onto the bedsheets, disgusted with her body, humiliated beyond repair, with the tongue of Katsuki lapping up what mess he had made out of her, teeth from a grin gracing in feather-light motions, yet still managing to shoot electricity up her core. 

All she could do was pant and sob through moans and trying her best to force out more protests even though she knew it was to no use, until she felt him pull away, leaving her cold in loss of contact with heat. 

She doubted his removal was because she’d begged it from him.

Her doubts being answered as she heard the crisp clatter of a belt-buckle opening.

Her eyes were swimming, gifting her with more panic as she wasn’t even able to see what he was doing, yet knowing, again wishing she didn’t, wishing she was rather deaf as well as blind, wishing all her senses to simply give away, all so that she didn’t have to witness what she was surely soon going to have to be the victim of.

She heard the clothes dropping to the floor, looked up at him through bleary blurry eyes, still recognising the sandy nuance of his skin fully on display before her. 

His large hands found her knees again, prying them open. His hips fitting between her thighs.  

“Ba- ba- Baku- go,  plea- please, don’t- don’t… stop.” She choked on her tears, on her fear, on her panic, on the feeling of the cold breeze making her exposed sex shiver and beg for something warm to fill it up, on her disgust.

“Don’t stop?” He snickered, pinching her clit between his fingers, making her arch with a whine before trying to wrench away, yet stopped by his hands steadying on her knees, spreading her open for him.

His cock-head delved between her folds, and he had to catch a pathetic whimper from escaping his throat, settling for biting his lip instead and ridiculing the reason as to why he was feeling so weak in the first place. Growling at the little girl beneath him, all tied up and defenceless and hopeless and pathetic, but still able to make him feel so small.

“I knew you were just a stupid slut.”

It helped hearing her scream for him. 

It helped hearing her choke on her own gasps as he filled her tight little space up with the warm length of his cock. 

It helped feeling her squeeze and seize around the girth of him, hugging him close and tight, filling and stretching her out so nicely.

She had resorted to hectic crying, no words, no protests, just sobbing, hiccupping, coughing up her own cries. 

And, although he imagined himself growling and groaning he fell short of those guttural rusty sounds and fell prey to whimpering like a lovesick puppy humping a plushie-toy instead. 

His hands holding onto her hips as though letting go meant death as he rolled his hips into her, feeling her warm velvety walls welcome him home.

It felt so good he nearly barreled over, his face buried in her chest, hand coming up to enclose over her mouth as so to stop the cries and hear those soft muffled moans she made instead.

Small stifled broken wet mews spurred into his palm, as he kissed a trail up the valley of her chest and onto her neck, whispering with his breath shaky.

“If it makes you feel any better… this is my first time too.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe because he was suddenly regretting his decision of being a monster, or maybe because the fright of being vulnerable disappeared at the feeling of conquering what made him afraid.

“I spread a rumour in second that I fucked Ururaka just to see your reaction.” He let out a breathy laugh, the open smile on his face indicated his nostalgia, as though it were a fond memory. “But you didn’t care at all did you?”

He snapped his hips forward, hitting something painful making her scream beneath his hand, opening it to hear her sob out in whimpers.

“Did you?!” It was accusatory and loud and right next to her ears, as he bared his teeth.

She was sure she was bleeding, feeling as though he was tearing her up, splitting her open, every harsh thrust felt deep within her abdomen, churning her guts.

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor- sorry!” She spluttered out, more thick gulps of tears streaking her cheeks with red.

“You know what I think?” 

He leaned in closer, his nose poking into her cheek, lips brushing her ear, hands now having moved to cup her knees, pushing them up into the bedsheets beside her shoulders, hiking her up to meet his sharp thrusts. 

“I think you wanted this…”

She shook her head as his grin gleamed from seeing her discomfort.

“Leaving your door unlocked like that, you were begging for this to happen.” He laughed, biting her earlobe, heavy balls clapping against her ass.

She sniveled. “You- you know we can’t afford-” She started, but was cut off by her own broken moan as Bakugo yet again made another sharp movement, sending an earth-shattering smack to fill the crammed space of her RV, and then again cut off by Bakugo’s own response.

“Yeah? But you could still afford that dress you wore to Homecoming couldn’t you?” He sounded crazed, upset and angry and obsessed with making her regret it. “When you went with that fucking extra instead of me?” 

His forehead pushed against hers, eyes a feral red and large with rage, watching in sadistic glee as she scrunched her eyes together in pain, trying to block his voice out from her head. 

“Yeah, I bet you’re sorry now.” He growled, again taking a break from his series of shallow thrusts to push deep into her, making her whine in wet agony. “That was the worst mistake of your life and you’re gonna make it up to me tonight.”

He pushed himself up, looking down at the crying mess he was buried inside, licking his lips.

She couldn’t stop apologising, as he fucked into her, her hands going numb under the bondage of his tie around her wrists. 

“I’m sorr- sorry-” She croaked, face burning from her tears.

“Yeah? You better be.”

He gathered her ankles in his hands, holding them up, one hand coming to roll her sock down her leg.

“You’re gonna be.”

His hand caressed her small bare-foot tightly, thumb digging into her sole, his mind drifting to how cute and tiny it was, smaller than his hand, and strangely soft for someone who chooses to walk everywhere to save money.

“I’m sorry-” She blubbered. “I’m- I’m sorry...” 

She struggled for breath between her apologies and cries, forgetting how to inhale as Bakugo’s cock crammed into her, stripping her lungs of their air.

He kissed the pad of her foot, before leaning down again, hands once more cupping her knees and pushing them against the mattress.

“Good.”

She quaked beneath his stare, his sharp teeth too close as she cringed at the wet creamy sloshing sound of his cock pounding into her.

She had to look away, wanting to twist to hide her face in her pillow and cry until he was done.

But he wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me when I fuck you.”

Gathering her face between his fingers, he scrunched her lips together as his own face closed in, his teeth coming to bite down on the vulnerable pout.

“You’re nothing without me, you understand that?”

One of his hands seized around her throat, adding slight pressure to accommodate his words.

“Good for nothing.” He spit. “Except for being my little slut, right?”

His claws scratched her throat, making her mewl and suck at her bitten bruised lip, tasting the metal.

“Come on, slut, I asked you a fucking question!”

Again, he angled his cock to jut into her painfully, making her gasp in strained pain at the stretch, followed by a sob.

“I’m just a slut-” She sniffled, eyes spiralling when looking into his unforgiving scarlet ones.

He smiled again, kissing her cheek.

“Who’s?”

The kiss became a lick, as he dragged his tongue up her tear-slicked cheek.

“Who’s slut?”

He felt her tremble and stiffen under his tongue, her eye’s squeezing shut.

“Your slut.” She answered, but it proved not to be good enough as another sharp painful thrust hit her core. “Bakugo’s slut.” 

She knew it was wrong the second she said it as a growl rumbled against her neck, his teeth gracing, scraping against her tender flesh. 

“Katsuki’s slut!” 

The words all broken and wet and beautiful coming from her bloated and reddened lips.

He placed a chaste kiss to her jaw, nibbling his way up to her mouth, whispering upon them. “Yeah, that’s right, you’re nothing without me.”

He kissed roughly, growling for her to kiss back, hand still tightly locked around her neck, begging for her to refuse him only for him to squeeze the life out of her.

His tongue pushed into her mouth as he slobbered and drooled above her, mouth sucking on her lips, trailing down her jaw and down her throat, nibbling and biting and lapping at her skin like some hound drooling over steak.

His hand left her throat to grasp her clothed breasts as he hit a particular spot, calling an unintentional bucking of her hips into him, making him groan in pleasure, his own thrusts gaining speed, hitting that same spot he now knew would make her unravel.

“You’re so lucky to get my cock.”

He worked himself into a taller position again, dragging himself off her chest to admire what artwork he’d made of her collar and chest.

“Say you love it.”

She shook her head, a petty begging-look on her face. 

It was a weak protest, almost enough to make him let it go, yet still outweighed by his need to make her pay.

His hips suddenly thrusting into her deeply, sharply, in all the ways he’d found out hurt.

She cried out. “No, no, Bakugo, please!” Panicked sobbing, her chest arching in pain, her legs coming to kick him off, yet were stopped as he pushed her knees into her chest. Jutting into her brutally.

“Say you love it and I’ll go slower.”

He saw her knuckles whiten at how hard she was balling her fists, tugging at her bonds desperately.

“I’ll fuck you good.” He promised, finding himself grow excited upon the thought. “Nice and slow like lovers do.” He had to snicker, even as she sobbed and hiccupped up screams that caught in her throat at his sharp thrusts, her eyes screwed tightly shut, allowing no tears to drop yet leaving them swimming in stinging salt.

His head dropped again to her temple, lips nibbling lightly on her cheek bone, his heavy breaths sounding louder than what snapping noise was made between his hips and the softness of her ass.

“Come on…” He drawled an impatient growl into her ear, a rumble that strung another whimper out from her.

More sobs followed, broken in their execution. “I love it… I love it.”

She hadn’t screamed it the way he wanted, but hearing it hang loosely onto her cries, all trembling and weak, was somehow better than what he thought he’d wanted anyway.

He slowed down, enough to lessen the sound of flesh slapping flesh and for the squishy noise of him filling her up again and again to replace it.

“What do you love?”

He made his way to rip open the seams of her shirt on her shoulder, not caring in the moment that she didn’t have a spare uniform to replace it. The shirt gone before she could even answer his question.

“You’re cock, I love you’re cock.” She sobbed, as her bra met with the same fate her shirt had, leaving her in just her little black skirt and one sock remaining, her tits springing loose, bouncing on both her cries and Bakugo’s movements.

“Fuck, good, such an obedient little pet.”

His head fell into the newly presented bare flesh with a moan, heavy panting as he slobbered up the valley between her breasts, palming the soft mounds before twisting the nipples between his fingertips, pulling at them, playing with them, his mouth sucking and biting, teasing the tender sensitivity.

His hands quitting their torment in favor of holding onto each their knee to keep her spread open for him as he rolled deeply into her spot.

“Feels so fucking-” He groaned, not bothering to finish the thought, before another impulse struck him.

His position in having his face buried in her neck and his body laid tight and snug on top of hers moved, making her feel the wisp of a chill coat her as their warm sweat-slicked bodies parted, feeling almost as though they were glued together as he pulled away, cock still being kept warm inside the comfort of her walls.

His hands came up to fickle with the knot that kept her hands locked above her head, his fingers sloppily tugging to loosen the tie, before gripping her hips tightly in a fashion meant to make sure she understood that despite being loose she was far from actually free.

Lifting her up of the spot she’d sunk into on the mattress and on to straddling his torso, his feet hitting the ground with a dunk with her propped up on his thighs, every little movement of his adjusting making his cock poke and message into other new dangerous places, places too tight to be attacked in whichever reckless unthoughtful way Bakugo saw fit.

Fingers running, or rather digging into her skin and making way to rake up her sides, grabbing and clinging to her midriff to pull her close, with his thighs beginning to impatiently move in a boyish manor to satiate the need for friction his member craved.

One arm wrapped around her waist, the other hand made to grab her chin, allowing him to look over her, again tempted to bite into those lushes red lips, all bloated and made for his teeth to gnaw on. Yet, his mouth made way to her neck instead, licking up her throat, sucking on the thin skin, wanting to make his mark flourish in red explosions all over her.

“Be a good quirkless slut and bounce on my cock, make yourself useful for once.”

His knees jolted upwards making her hop, followed by his cock sinking deeper into her.

Her hands held uncertainly mid-air made to grip his shoulders at the further intrusion, biting back another cry, however unable to keep the sobbing sigh from rupturing her throat.

However, she wasn’t given long to recover as his hand came down to plant a red-hot slap on her ass, making her jump on her own.

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

She started moving, unsure of what or which way to do it, finding the rhythm of rocking her hips forward after a while, earning a disgusting sigh of satisfaction from the blonde holding a bruising grip on her.

“That’s right...”

His arm moving to hold a death-grip on her waist, thumb digging into the underside of her ribs, poking each time she lolled forward and at the same time threatened her to stop.

His other hand came to grip her face again, stiff lips crashing against teary lips. Sucking her face as though stealing her life-source, only breaking between breaths to announce cocky cruel comments and instructions.

“Stay right there, slut.” A thrust from his hips accompanied the nickname, making her wince and lurch forward into him. “Aww that’s cute.”

Both his hands went under her skirt to grab at her ass, lifting her up only to sleeve himself inside her once again.

“Does that feel good? Huh? Right there?”

Another slap and she rested even harder against his chest, trying to find comfort in the pitch black her screwed-shut eyes left her in, yet the overwhelming scent of caramel wasn’t easily ignored, and neither was how perfectly his cock sunk into her.

His hands fingered the fabric of her skirt as he bumped into her from beneath. Tugging on the textile until ripping it off, the action earning her gasp as she was now wearing nothing but her one sock, the skirt having provided as some false sense of coverage.

“Is the slut enjoying herself?” He mocked, a salacious grin constantly spreading on his face between moans and grunts.

She shook her head, the urge to fight herself to freedom awakening yet again as her hands moved to push at his chest. 

“No… stop.”

But her back was supported, or rather steadied, with Bakugo’s large palm, little sparking ignitions gaining control of her struggles quickly, the fight leaving her body with a whimper of defeat, just as quickly as it had arrived.

Another sharp thrust ripped a strangled moan from her and he grinned. 

“Liar.” He snickered. “You’re gonna cum on my cock like a good little slut 'cause that's the only thing you know how not to fuck up, only thing your whore mom ever taught you.”

Forcing her hips to roll faster, the slick coated their thighs as her tits bounced for him.

“Does she share this bed with both you and her crackhead fuck-friends?” 

He couldn’t defend his need to make her cringe in his arms, why he wanted to see her ashamed, why he wanted her crying into him. 

“Such a freak. Are you gonna cum on the same sheets your mom sleeps on?”

Sharp fingers dug into her cheeks again, all because he wanted to be entertained by the show of her breaking.

He pulled her hips closer, fighting to hit that spot that had her mewling earlier, wanting to hear her mewl again, wanting to prove his point.

Once he found it she fell flush against him, melting in his hands, soft-spoken moans falling like drool down her chin.

“Like that, right there?” His words fell hot on her lips as his thumb pushed into her mouth and down onto her tongue, holding her chin in place. 

Her eyes crossed then upon his cock nudging in just the right way against her cervix, as well as her brows drawing up into a pretty eruption. 

“Fuck, that’s hot.” He groaned, clutching tighter onto her hip, rocking her forward to meet his thrusts. “Are you gonna cum on my cock, huh?”

With his thumb still dipped into her mouth, she tried her best to retort. 

“No…” 

It couldn’t be referred to as defiance as it was too pitiful to be called that.

“Yes, you are.”

He sucked on her collarbone, making his way up by kissing a trail of slobbering kisses and bites to her ear. 

With his hips still angled just right, his thumb left her mouth to grip her other hip. 

He could feel her tight little pussy start to convulse around his shaft, small flutters that squeezed him tightly, milking him.

She hated that she wanted to spill over so badly. The surging swimming boiling buzz constantly teased by Katsuki’s plush cockhead pushing and poking and jabbing at her cervix again and again.

She felt it coming, the snapping, breaking, splitting, the building coming close to bursting, yet she was reminded of who she was with in her reach for bliss and found herself regretting chasing it.

“No, no, not with him, not with him, not-”

It was too late as she tried holding it back, tried grasping it as hard as she was clamping down on his cock, as hard as she was digging her nails into his shoulders.

The movements of his hips slowed down. 

“There you go. Feel good, slut?” He mocked as her body spasmed, skin freezing over under his touch, feeling disgusted, skin-crawlingly disgusted with herself and how she was unable to control the continuous spasms that seemed to ricochet through her spontaneously. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you out.”

His speed picked up again, humping into her, making her ride through her orgasm, feeling the almost painful ticklish pressure build again upon each time he bottomed-out ruthlessly inside the comfort of her wet walls.

“No, Bakugo stop, stop!” Her pleads weren’t met.

“Is it too much?” He laughed, gathering a fistful of hair at the nape of her neck in order to make her look up at him, making her wince as he spit his words into her face. “Mommy didn't do too good a job at raising her slut, I see. Can't even handle cumming without crying." He jeered, mock pouting at her with his forehead pressed into hers, blood-soaked orbs forcing eye-contact from her wide tear-stained ones as she whimpered. "Aw, is my cock too much for the little whore?”

“Yes, stop!” She couldn't care less if she was answering some cruel nickname , the painful pressure assaulted inside her was something too vehement she needed to make relent, but yet again was her plead answered with a lack of mercy in an eerie whisper and nothing more.

“I’m not finished yet.”

All she could do was beg for him to finish… so that’s what she did. 

“Please...”

He gathered her face in his hand again, fingers squishing into her cheeks hurtfully as he made to sneer into her face. 

“Please what? Please fuck your whore cunt harder? Please make you cum again?”

Even as he snickered and mocked, his cock twitched at the sight of her. 

Eyes all puffy and swimming in her own tears, eyebrows knitted together, begging for mercy. 

Completely and literally held in the palm of his hand, yet her gaze still managing to make him feel fuzzy with the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

“Oh fuck, say you love me.”

Cold dread made up most of her body, what else was the rising crippling shameful feeling of something sweet knotting up somewhere in her lower abdomen again, this time harder than before as her already abused high was continuously pocked by Katsuki’s swollen cockhead kissing her cervix harshly again and again and again, driving her insane. And all of it made his demand impossible to answer, impossible to even comprehend.

Yet, she was in no position to refuse with her face held up between his fingertips and his crimson eyes boring holes straight into her terror-wide heart.

“Say you love me or I’ll cum inside you.” His voice lacking all she considered still human. Not a hint of remorse or guilt or shame or pity.

She gulped on her breaths, yet managed to voice the words. “I love you, Katsuki.”

Her eyes now unable to look away from him. Even as he picked up the painful pace, stabbing at her core, in places she had no former knowledge of, places the length of her fingers could never even as much as dream of reaching.

“Fuck.” A boyish virginal whimper laced the moan that escaped him at her words, satisfaction easing the raging and crazed look on his face. “I love you too.”

His toes curled painfully, cold and numb against the floorboards.

“I love you.”

Hands warm and sliding against dewy and doughy flesh.

"I love you."

Something pulling, straining, building to burst was chasing release, sending spasms to shoot through his shaft.

"I love you."

He knew what was coming. He knew it would be better than ever.

“We’ll get you a pill later, ‘kay?”

The guilt was washed over with the promise of painting her walls.

“It’s fine.” He tried reassuring as he felt her revolt in his arms, all her strength fighting to get off him, yet was no match against the force of his hands holding onto her, and his need to explode inside.

She resulted to begging instead. “No, no, Katsuki stop, don’t, please!”

Feeling her hope being crushed in his palm, picturing his laughing face as she turned her vision to black, his feral smile like supersonic light, dangerous and deadly and made to rip throats out.

And then it was done, she felt the last thrust like the last blow through her gut.

Cream filling her up, smearing between their thighs, Katsuki’s head resting on her shoulder with his hands holding onto her hips, fingers marking their presence into her back yet softening their grip with each of his panting breaths landing on her breasts.

Her blood ran cold through stiff veins, as though she were dead. Her skin crawling, as though rotting with mites. 

Sickness. 

Sickness in her lungs, in her throat, building, climbing up her pipes.

She slung herself off in a hurry, and with Katsuki coming down from whatever sick high he was riding, he wasn’t alert enough to catch her, which was probably a good thing because after her staggering her way to the bathroom, feeling his cum and her wetness leak out of her and drip along the inside of her thighs, she only barely made it in time to open the toilet compartment, get to her knees in the small space and haul her guts out into the small stained bowl.

Feeling like her mother, each time she came home all sweaty, mascara smeared with tears on her face like a garbage racoon, sticking her fingers down her throat and gagging until she collapsed on the floor, face laid in her own puke.

She heard Katsuki’s heavy footsteps, one and two before his hand met with her neck. Collecting her hair in a ponytail in his grip with the other hand encompassing her naked back.

She was afraid he was going to pull her up, expecting her scalp to soon scream in protest at the feel of her hairs being ripped up from their roots. 

Yet, as she awaited the torture… all she felt was the slow stroking of carefully placed paths running up her spine and then down to the small of her back in a manor either meant to be comforting or patronizing, with her hair being kept away from her face as she retched on repeat.

It was mostly just water and acid, and Katsuki made a mental note to make her eat later as he helped her up with his hands under her arms, supporting her when seeing how her shivering rendered her knees too weak to stand on her own, lifting her up on a tiny counter which would have been impossible for him if he were to try and sit on it, yet seemed the perfect size for her.

The ruff base of his thumb brushed the spit from the corner of her mouth, her large eyes meeting his own as he leaned in, soft weak hands only barely pushing against his chest in an act to stop him, but his lips pushed onto her anyway.

Parting with a string of silver connecting them, and he couldn’t help but fall prey to how beautiful she was even in her broken ugliness, how prettily her eyes fluttered with sticky eyelashes clutching together as though hugging for comfort, stray wisps of hair dancing in front of her face. Her wet breaths, sobbing breaths, hiccupping breaths, trembling past those soft pillow-y and blossomed lips, plump and full and bitable, or huffed through her nose, sniveling and sniffing and so very unfairly precious.

His thumb stroked over those lips, watching them quiver. 

He took time admiring her, feeling her cold fingertips vibrate against his chest, wondering if she could feel how hard his heart was hammering inside his ribcage with how much she was shaking. Wondering if she knew just how much he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted this, how despite him ignoring her cries, that she understood how this wasn’t in vain, how he wasn’t just doing this because he could, that he was doing this because he needed to, that he wasn’t doing this because he hated her but because he loved her, loved her too much to let her simply slip from between his fingers again.

His fingers latched onto the band of her sock, pulling it down and off at her toes, finally leaving her completely bare.

“Let’s get you in the shower.”

He moved to pick her up, uncaring of her newly sparked urge to fight him.

“No, Katsuki…”

She tried pushing, she tried making him stop despite everything being slippery and sticky and gross. The want to cry herself to sleep knowing and finding some comfort in the fact that Katsuki was done with her and long gone outweighed the want to get clean.

“The water’s cold, you won’t like it.” She argued in a weak attempt to sway him from the idea, yet knowing full well that he didn’t care.

“Come on…” He drawled as he caught her bothersome fists by the wrists in his massive hands. “We’ll take a shower and then we’ll go get your pill…” 

He fought to find eye-contact. 

“We both know you don’t have the money for it anyway…”

Typical of him to mention her situation. Typical of him to use it against her. And though it was typical, though it was predictable, it still made her heart clench, her soul twist, her spirit crumble.

He swore he saw something start to break in her eyes, wanting to deliver the final blow to snuff out whatever fight she still had left. 

He leaned in more, his nose brushing against hers.

“You need me.”

Her struggles stopped at that, Katsuki wrapping her legs around his back to support her as he carried her to the shower. Her cheek resting on his shoulder, completely deflated.

It wasn’t at all as in the movies. Sweet couples who help wash each other’s hair, warm bodies gliding against one another, soft perfect handprints printed on the dewy glass.

She hadn’t been lying, the water was freezing as the showerhead spritzed the water down on them with a force close to that of aching.

They didn’t both fit in the crammed space either, Katsuki was sure that even him alone wouldn’t fit in the tight space, where he was left to have one foot on the floorboards outside the door, water rushing into the hallway, running down his leg, but he didn't care.

His frame blocked the door completely, allowing her no shape or form of exit as he made her stand there, under the showerhead, hair slicking to her neck and nipples perking into hardness under the freeze, goosebumps strutted and coated her flesh from head to toe, her cheeks and lips blossomed with a purple hue, her eyes closed, head dipped in discomfort or shame or embarrassment or sorrow or a bit of everything and even more.

Her body trembled beneath his warm hands, as they cupped her breasts, palming them and playing and pinching with her back hunching in a weak effort to get her discomfort across, despite knowing how he didn’t care, with the fact having been proven time and time again.

His warm calloused fingertips brushed down her abdomen, eyes stark and loud as they looked at her body, thinking of how unblemished and beautiful her skin was as opposed to him, no roughness or ugly greenish bruises, just milky smooth and rosy suppleness and all his.

His hand traveled further, causing her small ones to reach out and grip around his wrist, both hands giving their best effort at trying to stop him. Though his other hand was quick to wrap around her throat and extract a sweet gasp with the movement.

Her hands removed their pressure yet remained on him as he brushed featherlight touches over the sensitiveness of her sex, fingertips dipping into her folds, slithering in the slick velvet of his cum mixed with her wetness.

A sob ricocheted through her as her toes curled, fingers bending and nailing into his wrist. Still, he continued. Fingers pushing inside, pumped knuckle-deep inside the puffy spongey walls, reaching deep before scissoring, making her knees bend, yet kept from falling by the hand around her neck keeping her up like a noose as he curled the two digits.

Her eyes avoided his, looking down at his limp cock who somehow seemed just as intimidating as before, like a sleeping beast ready to wake at any second. 

Yet, as much as he played with her sex, his own remained still.

He picked her up again as he saw more of her skin going purple, not really wanting her to get sick, just refreshed.

Water flooded on the soft-with-mould floorboards in the tight hallway as her feet dragged against the walls when he yet again carried her to the bed. And as much as she wanted to fight as he placed her dripping body down onto the sheets, she couldn’t find the energy. Tears, however, still managed to drip down her face, unhurriedly gliding down her cheeks, warm in stark contrast amidst the freezing shower-water.

“Do you wanna hear something really fucked up?”

It was rhetorical, but he wouldn’t have gotten an answer either way.

“I used to be jealous of your crack-whore mother…”

Her face cringed, confused yet still not desiring to know what he meant.

“Fuck, I’m still jealous when you come to school and I see that there's somebody else who makes you cry harder than me.”

She had to swallow in order not to gulp.

“You’re sick.”

Those were the wrong words, for as quickly as they entered the air, he was once again on top of her, squeezing the breath from out of her lungs.

“I’m sick?” He questioned, fingers plunging inside her, a forced moan ripped from her throat. “You’re the one cumming and creaming and squirting all over my cock while crying.” He bit out while starting to pump into her cruelly, finding it easier now as she was already wet from before. “Telling me you love it, telling me you love me.” He laughed as he sneered. “Who would’ve known what a slut you are. So desperate you let your own bully fuck you like this. You fucking whore.” 

His pushed his thumb into her clit cruelly, a sadistic smile on his face as she struggled.

“Stop, shut up, shut up!” Her palms made to push at his hard chest, yet was weakened as she felt the burning sweetness start to pool were his fingers poked.

“You don’t like that nickname? No? Aww, that’s fine.” He hissed, then scoffed. “It’s not true anyway...” He muttered beneath his breath, trying to find what sweet spot his fingers could reach as so to have her unravel beneath him again, wanting to lick the sin from her expression, wanting to bathe in his victory of making her his. “How did it feel to have my cock balls deep inside your precious little virgin innocent cunt, huh? Better yet, how does it feel to know how I am your first? First to kiss you, first to fuck you, first to make you cum.”

“Fuck you.”

Any remnants of strength was now spent on those last words, as the rest was spared to support her oncoming orgasm, the one she could feel clawing, sucking all senses up as though preparing for an implosion.

“That’s right…” He whispered. “Fuck me. Your first and your last.”

His ominous tone had her guts churning, which in some sick sense only added to the pooling dam that was about to snap inside her, but she kept her eyes wide, further digging into what his words meant, wondering if this would be her last day on earth, wondering if Bakugo would be the last person she'd ever see, ever feel, ever touch.

“You look like I’m gonna kill you.” He observed as he curled his fingers once again, making her hips buckle into his hand, which in turn made him grin. “Nah, I’m not gonna hurt you…”

His head dipped so that he could nibble at her neck, lick up the tender flesh with his fingers pumping in and out of her, coated in slick, collecting and drenching in his palm.

“I’m just gonna make sure no one ever touches what’s mine again…”

She couldn’t explain why the growl in his voice had her abdomen doing flips.

“Including that fuckface slut you call a mother.”

His fingers scissored, her back arching as she moaned.

“You’ll be lucky I even let you graduate.”

She couldn’t quite catch what he was saying anymore, just the lilt in his tone which had her falling apart beneath him, the walls of her pussy fluttering in pleasure.

“People go missing all the time.”

Her toes curled and she braced herself.

“That way I can have you all for myself.”

His warm lips pressed against her neck, his growls reverberating on her skin.

“All mine.”

His fingers poked at something that was about to burst and as she wanted to climb further up on the bed to escape it, she also wanted him to follow.

“Where you belong.”

And there it was, body melting into the mattress, all shame obsolete in those seconds.

Unable to see him lick her orgasm off his fingers as her eyes had crossed and traveled way too far into the back of her skull.

Unable to prepare for his kiss as her mouth hung open, soft feeble moans cut loose into the air, captured by Bakugo’s mouth.

She didn’t catch the second he stopped kissing her, nor did she catch the moment he got off the bed.

She must have fallen asleep for a short while because when she opened her eyes again Bakugo was dressed, rummaging through cabinets containing worn out clothes and things like it, seeming displeased with most of what he found.

She looked to her side, where placed on the bed was a towel, fresh underwear and a bra.

She motioned for the towel first, feeling the shameful wet stickiness between her thighs, hurriedly wiping it clean before putting on her garments, looking up to see Bakugo staring at her, having found something suitable to dress her in.

“Put this on.” 

She didn’t bother looking at what he’d so graciously offered her of her own clothes.

Her eyes narrowed at him instead. 

“I don’t want your help.” She sneered, looking away, crossing her arms over her chest as so to hide herself from his piercing gaze.

His fingertips were quick in clutching her cheeks, raking them into her skin as he turned her head back to look at him.

“Too bad, you need it.”

The fabric was cast at her lap unceremoniously, the soft silky feel cold against her bare thighs.

“Put it on.” The growl was followed by him removing his hand with a push.

She huffed before looking down at the presented article, wondering what Bakugo wanted to dress her up in, her lips forming a disgusted snarl.

“It’s my mother’s.”

The yellow summer-dress, flowy and frilly in texture, something she’d never wear, something Bakugo knew well she would never wear.

“It’d go to waste on her.”

This made her look up, curiosity or maybe even a form of flattery evident in the curl between her brows.

The sudden eye-contact catching Bakugo off guard as he’d shared the uncharacteristically tender opinion of the girl out loud.

He scoffed, crimson eyes darkening in an attempt to hide the building flustered panic, masking it with a growl instead. 

“Put it on, I won’t ask again.”

She fingered the fabric for a while longer before treading it on over her head, letting the skirt dress her thighs with a featherlight fall.

Looking like a spring-daydream, not at all as though she’d just lived through a nightmare.

With her drying hair falling in messy curled tousles down her shoulders, Bakugo reached out a hand to fasten the small wispy strands coming to tickle her forehead behind her ear, grabbing her wrists in favor of her hand when he pulled her up.

“Let’s go. I can’t stand this shithole.”

Wondering if he should have said that he couldn’t stand her in that shithole instead.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

[verascrow]

Worm?! lol. Hiii, I’m new here. Could I please request some head canons for sniper mask (from high rise invasion) with a (preferably) male s/o? (As long as you’re comfortable with it.) I haven’t found any for males sadly. Hope you have a good day! Thanks sm.

Tenkuu Shinpan/High-Rise Invasion: Sniper Mask Boyfriend Scenario

high-rise invasion/tenkuu shinpan masterlist

‼ Sniper Mask Relationship Headcanons with a Male S/o ‼

Featuring: Sniper Mask, Yuri Honjo, Mayuko Nise, Kuon Shinzaki

Warnings: gun mention, violence mention, cursing, blood mention

a/n - i wanted to add a lot of detail since you said there weren't any male readers, so i apologize that it took so long. i also have another sniper mask scenario that should come out soon! enjoy!

content below the cut!

coming to the high rise world was VERY unexpected for you

one second you're about to take a nap, right at the brink of sleep

the BOOM

you're on top of a building!

oh yeah, and there are murderers in masks right on your tail

not the afternoon you wanted, but it was the afternoon you got

you had been running from several masks, three of them right on your tail

you had been backed up near the edge of a building, the three of them circling yours you sat against the ground

when one of them slumped to the ground, dead

at first, you were confused, did he pass out maybe?

but then you saw blood and the other two dropping to the ground

no, yeah, they were all dead

you looked around for who could have done it

only to be met with another mask, a rifle at his side

you would have thought you were going to die if it weren't for the 3 girls by his side

why were 3 high school girls with one of the same kind of people that had tried to murder you?????

"Oh my god! Are you okay, sir?" A dark-haired girl ran forward and knelt down in front of you. You backed away from her, fear still coursing through you.

Your eyes landed on the masked man a few feet behind them, pointing a shaky finger towards him. "You! Why aren't you hurting us?" He stood up straight as all attention went to him, stuttering as the girl in front of you offered you a small smile.

"He won't hurt you, he'll only kill other masks, I promise!" You we're still skeptical of the group but decided it would be better than being stuck out here all alone. Silently, you took the girl's hand, letting her introduce you to the others.

When you were set in front of the masked man, he awkwardly gave his hand out for you to shake. "And this is Sniper Mask! He's scary, but-but, nice? Yeah, nice!" Yuri said, obviously unsure of her own words.

He extended his hand out for you to shake, and though you couldn't tell it, he was nervous beyond belief. He had just saved an extremely attractive guy and now he was no more than 2 feet in front of him!

"H-hey." Well, he fucked that up. You sighed, letting your shoulders slump as you took his hand, shaking it firmly. "Y/n, thanks for saving me Mr. Sniper Mask." You offered him a smile, to which his face instantly flushed, responding with nothing but a nod.

and that's where it began

at first, it was quiet between you and mr. mask

he didn't seem to make any moves to talk to you

hell, he didn't even seem to like being in the same room as you!

at least, that's from your perspective

from the other team, however...

"Kuon I-I don't. The command must of-" "Mr. Mask! You like Y/n! It's not the command, you do!" Kuon had been pestering Yuka for the past 30 minutes about her new idea. Obviously, it was nothing near the truth. It had to be the command malfunctioning.

"Admit it Mr. Mask! You're always looking at him and are fidgety whenever he's nearby!" Yuka sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as a blush crawled up onto his face. "Kuon it's not that I can assure you, I don't-" "If you won't admit it, I'm going to tell him!"

With that, Kuon dashed out of the room to find you. It took Yuka a few seconds to realize what the girl meant before he came barreling down the hall after her. "Kuon! Wait-"

Kuon didn't end up actually telling you that Sniper Mask liked you per se

but she didddd say that he wanted to talk with you more

and when he came up to the two of you, he apologized profusely for Kuon's behavior and dragged her off

but, the ordeal did help him to realize that no, this wasn't the mask's doing

he did actually like you

and little did he know that the feeling was mutual!

oh good gods you fell for him quick

you didn't even know why you liked him, but dear gods you did

you were terrified to confess to him

he barely ever shows emotion, so what are the chances he would show them to you?

well, it took him a while to confess to you, and only after you got injured by a mask did he spill

you had gone out with Mayuko to go find some supplies when a mask holding a machete came running at you two

it had cut your arm pretty bad, but you would live

Mayuko helped you wrap it up with some gauze she had found

when the two of you got back, the others (excluding Sniper Mask at the time) were all over you

you assured them that you could patch up your own wound, so you made your way back to your own room

expecting to be alone, you were surprised when Sniper Mask stopped you right outside your room's door

You held your injured arm close to your stomach, groaning as a sharp pain went through it. Your room was just around the corner, and once you were inside you could patch it up and go to sleep. At least, that's what the plan was originally.

What you didn't expect was the silent being of Sniper Mask to be laying against the door, his head shooting up as he heard footsteps. He turned his head towards you, eyes shifting from yours to your arm, and back to you.

"What happened." He said, but it came out in a much deeper tone than you had anticipated. A small blush found its way onto your face, your words catching in your throat as he leaned off of the door, making his way closer to you.

He was only a foot away, your breath hitched as his hand came towards you. He paused for a second, looking back at you, before grabbing your uninsured hand in his gloved one. Despite the fabric, his hands still radiated heat.

"I'm fine." You stated, but it didn't seem to do anything as he dragged you down the hall and up a flight of stairs. You were going to ask where he was taking you, when he grabbed one of the door handles, twisting it open and leading you inside.

There was nothing particularly special about his room, besides the rifle on his bed, of course. He let go of your hand the second the two of you were in the room, pausing a second after, before going to get a first aid kid.

You sat down on his bed, leaving the rifle alone. Unconsciously, your hands intertwined themselves together, trying to recreate the warmth he did just a few seconds ago. When he came back over, he was quick to take off your makeshift bandages and wipe the wound down.

You hissed in pain, grabbing one of his hands in the process and squeezing it to try and relive it. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze of its own, quickly sanitizing it and dressing it with fresh bandages.

When he was done, you tried to let his hand go, but he squeezed it harder. You heard him let out a sigh, his face turning upwards as he looked at you. You couldn't see his eyes, but he was lost in yours.

Without thinking, he inched the bottom of his mask upwards with his free hand, just enough to reveal his mouth. Your heartbeat picked up, eyes widening as they flickered down to his lips.

In a second the lips you were staring at were pressed against your own. His lips were warm, the taste of coffee lingering from them. When he pulled away, you did nothing but look at him with adoration.

You cupped his face with one of your hands, your smile growing as he leans into the touch. "Y'know," he started, bringing his hand up to hold yours. "I've been meaning to ask you to become my boyfriend for a while."

"Is that so?" You asked him, earning a hum and a shrug in response. "Now seemed like a good time to ask." You chuckled softly at him, watching a smile form on his lips. "My answer is yes then, Sniper Mask."

it was hard to keep your relationship a secret from the girls

Kuon was glued to Yuma's side almost 24/7, so she caught on first

then it was a domino effect

the three of them were extremely happy for you two

they do tease you both from time to time though

Kuon is especially happy about the relationship

sure, she has a crush on Yuka, but she's happy to see the two of you together

he's very wary about it all at first

his group has been attacked before, and not to mention other masks that could hurt you

yes, he's a strong badass who could protect you no matter what

but it doesn't make him worry any less!

any time foreign masks come near, you better bet your ass they're gonna have a bullet hole (or two) in them

he loves to show off that you're his and vice versa

refers to you as "his boyfriend" a lot

also likes to say "i'm his boyfriend"

absolutely swoons if you call him "yours"

peppers your face with kisses any time he can

just giving you lots of kisses in general

likes to have you by his side most times

he always needs to make sure you're safe

you basically have your own bodyguard

usually sleeps with you on his chest and his arms wrapped around you

then again, he won't turn down being the little spoon~

genuinely fucking loves you and wants to make you know every second he can

[quicksilverrwrites]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: peter maximoff x reader 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: you can’t sleep and neither can peter, but at least you both know exactly how to comfort one another. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2.4k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+, fluff, peter and reader are early to mid twenties, british reader 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: y/n is known by the mutant name “scribe” and is charles xavier’s niece.

It’s eleven-thirty, and you can’t sleep.

Your thoughts shift to your lessons in the morning; to how tired you’re going to be; to that iced coffee you’d had while getting your assignment done after class; about how that drink was definitely a bad idea considering how you’re lying awake now. It had tasted good then, and it had given you the energy you needed to fire out five thousand words in the span of a few hours… but now you regret it.

Sighing, you roll over. Your eyes glaze over the objects on the nightstand beside your bed. Your alarm clock, rectangular in size and wooden in material, glares at you. Eleven thirty six. Eleven thirty seven. The time seems to spiral, and you realise that you might as well do something with yourself if you’re awake.

You eye the books stacked on top of the alarm clock; you’d been reading one before and it had bored you half to death, so you can’t bring yourself to pick up any again. What else? What else?

Your gaze settles upon the picture frame on the dresser next to your nightstand, and you let out a sigh as you settle upon the silver-haired speedster within it. You’re next to him, a mere blur since he’d sneakily taken the camera from your hand and taken a picture with an expression that radiates cheekiness, but you’d liked the picture enough to keep it.

You’ve got a few more picture frames scattered around your room—photos of you with Scott, Jean, Jubilee and Kurt. Even some of Charles. You might not be close, but he is your uncle, after all. He’s still family.

And yet it’s Peter you keep your eyes on. It’s Peter's mischievous aura which calls to you across the room.

What would he be doing right now? He’s probably playing video games or practicing on one of his guitars. You’d been surprised to see him play well; you’d been surprised to see that he actually had the attention span it takes to successfully learn an instrument. You would know: your mother used to nag you about practicing the piano to perfection. Practice makes perfect, she’d always said, and yet she’d always left out how much energy it took to practice in the first place.

Is it too late to reach out to him? The two of you have a specific way of speaking to one another across distances by now, although even the thought of doing such a thing due to the time seems rude. Your mother had always told you that it was your duty to be polite, and your father had by example. You think you picked it up from him rather than her, but—

Don’t think of him right now. Don’t think of what happened. Don’t.

As if in an effort to push the memory of that night from your head, you move. You pull the drawer attached to your nightstand open to reveal a mess of junk inside, but what you need—and what you spy—is a pen and paper. You pull it from the drawer and slam the nightstand drawer shut quietly, and after, you get to work writing:

Are you up? Can I come over?

Your fingers buzz with azure energy as you feel your mutation working in your favour. A tiny portal of blue opens before you, one you could make larger if you wished but one which you keep small for now. It’s no larger than a letterbox would be, and the faint sound of music from the other side tells you that Peter is very much awake.

You slip the note through the portal, and then you leave it open as you wait.

When you receive no response for a solid fifteen seconds but can hear movement on the other side, you wonder if this was a mistake after all. It’s too late, you scold yourself, mentally preparing for rejection. Oh, god, this is going to be awkward. What if he—

An empty Twinkie box falls at your feet.

You blink at it, momentarily confused, and then you pick it up. You glance about the dessert’s display as you begin to turn the box over in your hands. Nothing on the front, but on the back—

Scrawled in pink glitter pen—probably his sister’s—, the box reads on the back: Yeah. Come through.

You grin lazily as you set the box down on your bed and extend the portal with your fingers like you’re prying open a heavy door. The orange light from Peter’s basement slips through and becomes one with the light of your dorm, which is yellow and warm with your room’s wooden accented walls and flooring. And as you slip through the portal and your bare feet touch the soft tartan carpet of his room, you let the portal shut with a soft shum behind you—

But Peter Maximoff does not look his best. In fact, he looks downright miserable.

His eyes are red as if he’s been crying, his hair is messy—messier than usual, at least—and he’s wearing a band tee and some tartan pajama bottoms that look intended for comfort rather than style. You were about to say hey, but you stop in your tracks. You tilt your head as you look at him.

Peter is still. It’s strange, especially since he’s usually so eccentric. He blurts out, “What?”

You frown, momentarily stuck for what to say. “Nothing,” you respond, but it doesn’t seem right.

Peter stares at you. You stare at him. You’re both quite similar, so it strikes you then that you both know that you’re each not telling each other something.

“You okay?” You ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

Peter shrugs nonchalantly. It’s a rigid movement. “Yeah,” he says, far too confidently to be true. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You narrow your eyes on him. His tone of voice has all but solidified your suspicions. “Okay, first of all,” you say, crossing the small space of the room between you and the sofa, “you use a very distinctive tone when you lie.” You settle down on the sofa as you cross your legs under you. “Second, your eyes are really red. Have you been—?”

“No.”

Crying, you were about to ask, but he cut you off. You narrow your eyes again.

Peter sighs and averts his gaze, running a hand through his hair. “Tonight’s just… not a good night.”

You press your lips together as sympathy wells in your eyes. “Why not?”

“Can’t sleep.”

“That makes two of us."

Peter inhales deeply, and before you know it, he’s sitting on the sofa next to you. You’re used to how fast he moves by now. Something warms your heart in the way he sits with his body angled towards you. Like he’s opening himself up to you.

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He asks.

You glance at the other end of the sofa and then back to him. You’re reminded of how he took the sofa to sleep on that night after you guys got caught in the rain. “Here?”

Peter’s brows rise. “Is my basement not fancy enough for you?”

You know he’s joking even despite the lack of humour in his tone, and you let out a small huff of laughter as you flash him a lazy smile. You sit back on the sofa, reaching out your hand to intertwine it with his. Things between you are still blooming after your first date, but you both feel comfortable enough to do this. Peter’s fingers wrap around yours as he starts drawing patterns on the back of your hand with his free one.

“I just mean,” you murmur, just loud enough to be heard over the backdrop of quiet music, “won’t your mom mind?”

“She didn’t mind when you stayed over last time.”

Your lips quirk upwards in gentle amusement. “That time you slept on the couch. This time I was thinking, I mean, if you want to, then maybe—”

“Oh,” Peter murmurs. His head lifts upwards in a sort of understanding motion. “Yeah, I mean… ah, I can deal with whatever safe sex talk she wants to give me in the morning.”

Your cheeks flush red. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant maybe we could…” Oh, god, embarrassment— “cuddle.”

Peter grins. “Cuddle, huh?” He pauses, until— “Okay,” he murmurs, reaching an arm around the back of the couch to wrap around you. “I guess I could be down for cuddling.”

You snicker softly as you lean into his touch, your head resting against his shoulder. “Do you want to tell me why you looked so upset when I arrived?”

Peter tenses. “It wasn’t because of you, if that’s what you were thinking.”

“Mm,” you murmur, “I think I’m confident enough in our relationship to know that your reaction when seeing me is generally excitement rather than the dread that accompanies sad under eyes and red markings around them.”

He pauses for a few seconds before he lets out a long breath of defeat. “That obvious, huh?”

“Mm,” you murmur, looking up at him. “A little.”

His lips twist to the side as he lowers his gaze. “I was thinking about my dad.”

It’s your turn to pause now, looking up at him in a way you didn’t before. You assess every detail of his body again: the way his shoulders slump, the way his head hangs low, the way his hair falls in the way of his view and his eyes are heavy with something you haven’t seen in him before. He’s usually so full of life.

Is this what he’s hiding deep down?

“Tell me about it,” you say softly.

Peter grimaces. “It’s a long story, and the stupid thing is it’s mostly my fault.”

Frowning, you sit up and face him. “I don’t believe that.”

Peter lets out a humourless laugh that might be bitter if he showed a hint of anger, but he doesn’t. “It’s true. The only time I’ve ever been too slow and it’s in finding the most…”

He trails off, pulling his arm away from around you so that they both now rest in his lap. He continues, “It’s a mess.”

“Start from the beginning."

So he explains, if not vaguely: about trying to find his father, about finding a house empty and police arriving on the scene. Peter had fled at the sight of them, and—

“His name’s Magneto,” he admits. “Erik Lehnsherr. You’ve probably… seen him on TV or something."

Suddenly, it all adds up. You weren’t at school to see what happened with Apocalypse, but you’ve heard about it from your friend group. Peter doesn’t talk about it very much, and now you know why; had he been part of that whole adventure because of his father? He hadn’t been involved with Xavier’s School before, that much you know.

You suck in a breath. Okay, Y/N, push the fact that his dad’s a known terrorist aside— “Does he know?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nah. I had the chance to tell him and I didn’t. I screwed it up. And now I’m right back where I was before all of it, because I have no clue where he is and no way of telling him the truth. I couldn’t even do it for Wanda.”

“Hey,” you murmur, your fingers moving to cup his cheeks. “Fight or flight, right? It’s normal. To see him right in front of you—to have to muster up the courage to tell him? Knowing what a change that would be for you? Peter, that’s normal.”

Peter’s eyes well with softness as he listens to you, gazes upon you, and you think you’ve never seen him look so vulnerable as he lowers his head to your shoulder. He takes in a shaky breath; wraps his arms around you; pulls you into his lap—

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your shirt. It’s not his shirt this time; you’re wearing a pyjama set that consists of blue silk shorts and a top. “Not sure I believe you, but thanks, Y/N.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you believe me?”

Peter takes a deep breath. “Aside from mind control? Not sure.”

You press your lips together and begin to stroke his hair. “To be honest,” you murmur, “I’m not sure I’d believe you if you tried to tell me something similar about my father, either.”

Peter lets out a choked laugh. “Maybe that’s why we work together.”

Your lips curve upwards, still stroking his hair. His face is still buried in your shoulder. “Maybe,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head.

Peter shifts so that he’s leaning against the back of the sofa and you’re in his lap again. You turn so that you’re straddling his waist, but your fingers find his jaw to cup the skin there. Your thumb brushes soothingly against his skin.

“You mean a lot to me,” Peter murmurs, staring up at you. It’s almost as if the music in the room has stopped; it’s almost as if the two of you are the only souls left in existence. His brows are slightly raised and there is awe in his voice as he says, “I don’t really believe you’re real half the time.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Definitely real, Peter. Definitely here.”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone riddled with amusement, “and here of all places. You could be anywhere. You’re like, perfect and—”

“Ssh,” you murmur, pressing a finger to his lips. “I don’t want to be anywhere but here with you.”

Peter tilts his head up towards you, a silent request for consent, and you kiss him in answer.

He wraps his arms around your waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongue slipping out to meet his own. He makes a low, guttural noise between pleasure and content at the feeling of it, and your free hand clutches at his shirt as your other hand remains at his jaw.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, whether it's on the sofa or in his bed, but in those moments together there’s nothing carnal about it. Your touches are soft and comforting rather than lustful and yearning, and as much as you’ve thought about him that way before, you know that now’s not the time.

Tonight, you both need this. Tonight, your sole purpose is to be there for one another.

“And for the record,” Peter murmurs between kisses, his words random and uncalculated, “I think your tragic backstory’s way worse than mine.”