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[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

An Alpha A Bit Different

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Pairing; Omega!Bang Chan x Alpha!Male!Reader

Themes; Omegaverse AU • Fluff • Smut • Angst • Enemies to Lovers(not really) •

General Content Warning; expected stereotypical behavior (for omega and alpha alike), mentions of past trauma, reader has a hard time eating, plot slightly based off of "connected", reader is younger (born in the 02) and taller than chan (about 5 inches/12cm), mention of anxiety attack, reader can't look at his own reflection, reader and chan are really insecure, reader has good parents (shockingly), mentions of hyunlix being canon, minsung mutual pining, harrassment.

Word Count; 2.4k

Summary; After an unexpected day, (M/n) finds out a small fraction of why Chan seems so wary about alphas, and having caught sight of that in the crook of his neck didn't help him. Even so, the rest of the day seemed to be going fine, seeing how he and Chan end up having a nice time together.

Chapter 3; The Start Of Something New

!please, reblog and leave feedback to let me know what you think about this fic~!

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Two days have passed and (M/n) is still thinking about Chan, unable to talk to him without feeling like he's unconvincing the omega and making him feel unsafe, so he had been keeping his distance for now. The day seemed like it was gonna like any other, but he always manages to jinx everything.

Somehow, that day at University, a lot of omegas seemed to be getting close to (M/n), maybe a little too close for comfort. More than once he graced his neck with his fingertips, feeling his scent blockers still in place, so he was confused as to why, all of the sudden, there seemed to be a surge of omegas interested in him.

An a certain, squirrel-looking best friend of his, found it funny to tease him about it. Playfully pushing and poking him, like a teenager teasing his friend about his crush.

"Damn, (M/n), you have omegas for days, man~!" He joked, knowing that of course, (M/n) would never do such a thing, watching with a wide, content smile how the (h/c) haired chuckled at his words.

But the smiles and laughs were cut short soon enough.

(M/n) didn't bother checking if the omega that pushed Jisung away was a male or a female, but hearing them calling Jisung a "worthless and useless omega" was enough to make (M/n) push everyone off of him, rushing to his best friend that started having an anxiety attack.

Holding his gently, (M/n) took Jisung further away, walking to a more secluded hallway, helping him sit on the floor and kneeling in front of him, "It's okay, it's okay, hyung, I'm here with you," he gently said, tilting his head down enough to make eye contact with him, "Look at me, Hannie."

Jisung looked at (M/n) who was showing him a reassuring smile, and he tried to smile back while gasping for air.

"Alright, Hannie, I need you to breath with me, okay?" Jisung nodded a few times, attentively looking at (M/n), "Great, take a deep breath," he took a deep breath as a demonstration, his arm lifting up as well, "And let it out," he released his breath while lowering his arm, Jisung imitated him with difficulty, "Okay, a few more times, come on."

(M/n) kept helping Jisung even his breath, and after a handful of times, the male seemed to have calmed a little by now, smiling at him, (M/n) sat by his side, now proceeding to tell him the same old story from his childhood that always made Jisung laugh, and it worked perfectly. In no time, Jisung was feeling better, but you had different classes now and his body was still trembling.

So taking off his sweatshirt, (M/n) helped Jisung put it on, the alpha feeling his heart warm at the sight of Jisung snuggling on it, his scent comforting him like it always did.

Standing up from the floor, (M/n) accompanied Jisung to his class, not really caring that he was running late to his lecture.

_____

This time, during lunch break, he was in the same café as usual, but Changbin was there now as well.

(M/n) had been wondering stuff all day, pretty much since he woke up that morning, even before that, back when he first met Chan. He had been holding back a few times from saying anything, wanting to ask both males that seemed so close to the omega, but he didn't.

Even so, both Changbin and Jisung realized he wanted to say something.

"Just say it," Changbin said taking a sip of his iced americano. (M/n) sighed and proceeded to look down at the table, a half-eaten bagel on a plate, his empty water glass, observing the design on the plate.

"It's about... Chan," he said his name hesitantly, he was unsure whether he should add -ssi to his name or not, they weren't close so calling him 'hyung' may be a stretch, maybe 'sunbae' could fit, even if he already graduated, he went to the same university as him so-

His internal monologue was interrupted when he realized how Changbin and Jisung were looking at each other, unaware of his internal battle and busier silently debating whether (M/n) should know about it. And ultimately, Jisung grabbed his bubble tea, nonchalantly responding.

"Chan hyung and I got played by the same alpha," after processing those words, (M/n) looked at his best friend with wide eyes.

"For real?" Jisung nodded.

"Something happened when Chan confronted him about it, and he doesn't trust alphas anymore," (M/n) gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as he wondered who could be such an asshole to play with the heart of such wonderful people? Even if Chan doesn't seem to like him, Jisung had told him plenty of stories about the omega, and (M/n) only found him impressive and someone to look up to.

"Fucking dickhead," he muttered to himself but both males sitting across from him heard him and they chuckled.

"Well, Felix beat the shit out of him for us," Changbin and Jisung laughed, bickering with one another about how he looked once Felix was done with him.

And (M/n) was left surprised again, "Hyunjin's boyfriend? That Felix?" Changbin nodded, seemingly proud of the angel-looking blond.

"He may not seem like it, but he's an alpha, and, has a black belt in taekwondo," with that information, he told himself to make sure he never makes the male angry or he'll for sure get fucked up by Felix.

Lee Felix really causes whiplash to anyone he meets.

_____

Walking out of campus once the day was over, Changbin and Jisung told (M/n) they had a group project with some classmates and they'll be meeting up in the public library. Without much thought, (M/n) nodded at them, taking the apartment key that Jisung handed him since he still needed to get a copy of it.

He watched as they left him alone to walk back to the apartment by himself.

He was so distracted on his way, that only when he was walking up the stairs he realized that Changbin and Jisung are cursing different years, so why...? Maybe joint classes...? I shouldn't doubt them, he thought to himself.

Sighing, (M/n) opened the front door, his body shivering when he felt Chan's scent. Why do I feel so attracted to his scent? Something about the coffee smell, mixing with mint chocolate and the strange combination it created with the leather makes me fucking-

Refusing to finish that train of thought, (M/n) looked up and he was met with Chan, who was just walked out of his room after taking a shower... completely shirtless, the towel around his neck covering his chest and catching the water droplets that dripped from his hair, and that's when (M/n) realized how muscular he was.

He couldn't help but swallow hard at the sight.

"Where are Binnie and Hannie?" Snapping back to reality, (M/n) opened his mouth to respond and he briefly looked down.

"Uh, they..." Looking up, he saw how Chan raised an eyebrow at him, patiently waiting for him to finish his answer, "They had a group project, or that's what they told me..." His voice got quiet the longer he spoke, Chan's gaze was intense and it made him even more insecure and submissive than he already is.

He wouldn't wanna know how intense his gaze would be if Chan was actually trying to intimidate him, and if he was an alpha? The thought made (M/n) shudder, avoiding staring in Chan's direction, still awkwardly standing by the door.

Of course, Chan felt the tension in the air, and the way (M/n) was seemingly stuck in place. Chan knew he got good at looking intimidating and scaring even more dominant alphas, but something about seeing (M/n) submissive because of him bothered him a bit, so relaxing his body a little, Chan called him.

"(M/n)," the alpha lifted his head to look at him, and (M/n) felt his heart warm when he saw Chan showing him a gentle smile, a pair of charming dimples showing up on either side of his mouth, "Would you like to watch a movie with me while we wait for the boys?"

(M/n) saw the opportunity to get to know Chan better, served in a golden tray, he couldn't help but nod enthusiastically, the bright light in his eyes making Chan chuckle.

"Okay, I'll go get some snacks ready, you can go change if you want," taking his boots off incredibly quickly, (M/n) rushed in the direction to his room.

On his way, he turned his head towards the kitchen, the one he had to walk past to get to the hallway where the rooms were, and he looked at Chan while he grabbed snacks from the top cabinet, his towel sliding just enough to let (M/n) see... a mating bite.

It was almost completely faded, the mark a light pink color almost imperceptible, but the light in the kitchen hit on it in a way that made it quite easy to spot.

The sight of that mark should've made (M/n) feel disappointed that such a beautiful omega was already taken, even so, he couldn't help but feel angry, whether because he was jealous or because he was thinking of that alpha that betrayed both Chan's and Jisung's trust, he didn't know for sure.

He just knew he had the instinctual urge to sink his teeth over that mark that seemed to be making fun of him, as if mocking him for not meeting Chan before.

A low growl resonated in his chest, but he clenched his fists and left for his room without letting Chan ask him if he was okay.

The omega shivered and squirmed in place, lifting his hand to his mating bite, feeling it burn under his touch.

_____

Trying not to slam the door or his room when he walked in, (M/n) ran his hands through his hair, frustrated at these possessive instincts. He had no right no feel possessive over Chan, he wasn't a thing to claim as his, even so, his blood felt like it was boiling inside because of his anger.

He walked to his bathroom, taking a deep breath before reaching for the faucet and opening it, splashing his face and down his neck with cold water, trying to cool down his heated skin.

Taking another deep breath, (M/n) hesitated as he lifted his head to look at himself in the mirror, flinching almost in pain at the look he had in his eyes.

He felt like a predator and he didn't like that.

Opening the cabinet behind the mirror, and grabbed the box with his scent blockers, he was running low on them and he knew he had to buy more soon, preferably the next day. Thankfully, his parents gave him some money when he moved out and they promised to send him money every week.

(M/n) didn't like that, but he had to accept it, he still had to find a job to help his roommates with living expenses, and he didn't like the thought of being a freeloader.

He took off the wet patches on his neck and reached for the hand towel to dry all the water away from his skin, soon covering his scent glands again. He took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom, deciding to change out of his jeans and into a comfy pair of black sweatpants, putting on a hoodie over his shirt, now feeling a little more relaxed than a few minutes ago.

Walking out of his room and into the living room, (M/n) saw Chan sitting on the couch, now wearing a hoodie as well, and a bunch of snacks and drinks on the coffee table, Netflix showing on the tv.

(M/n) sat next to him, and the air was a little awkward, but Chan decided to break it.

"Is there something you wanna watch?" (M/n) glanced at Chan before looking at the tv, maybe his mind was still a little foggy, but he couldn't concentrate on any movie on the screen.

"I'm... fine with anything, really," he answered truthfully.

Chan scrolled for a few seconds, and soon he chose an anime movie he hadn't yet watched, A Silent Voice.

Both of them were silently enjoying the movie, but Chan kept glancing at (M/n), noticing the scent blockers on his neck when he shifted around on the couch, trying to get more comfortable. And before he realized what he was doing, his hand lifted and touched it, making the alpha slightly jump at the sudden touch.

"Why do you use these? If it's not too personal to ask," he muttered in a whisper, his eyes fixated on the translucent patch.

(M/n) took a deep breath, wondering how to tell an omega, the most discriminated secondary gender in society, that he wished he wasn't an alpha, so he decided to be honest.

"People always told me I was different from other alphas, and I thought that was a good thing but... everyone says that I'm a broken alpha and nobody would want something useless like me..." He weakly responded, and Chan felt so identified with him. And referring to himself as something rather than someone brought back painful memories from years ago.

All those times when people judge him for having a bigger, more muscular body than other omegas, like Hyunjin, who was slim and gorgeous, or Jisung, who was just so cuddly and adorable, but him? The only time where he didn't care about what others may say about his physique, was whenever he was at home, knowing no one would judge him for having a may body, painfully remembering how he used to beg to have a more omega-like body. Slimmer, thinner... prettier.

But what was omega-like anyway?

"Well, they're the weirdos for licking possessive, manipulative, dishonest, and egocentric pieces of shit alphas," his serious tone of voice as he spoke made (M/n) laugh, caught off guard by Chan's words.

Chan was sure this was also the first time he's heard (M/n) laugh or seen him smiling. It was nice. He felt warm.

But (M/n) felt how Chan was looking at him with an amused look on his face, "Yeah, that's one way to say the world is fucked up," and now it was Chan's turn to laugh.

Soon, they found themselves enjoying each other's company, the movie now long forgotten as they talked and enjoyed their time together.

_____

Sneakily walking into the apartment a few hours later, Jisung and Changbin found an incredibly adorable sight.

(M/n) was asleep on Chan's shoulder, and the omega had his arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"I told you it was gonna work~!" Jisung whispered excitedly, celebrating with a silly dance his victory. Changbin only rolled his eyes, painfully aware that he just lost fifty bucks over a dumb bet.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

💚💜

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

ITSSOPRETTYITSSOPRETTYITSSOPRETTYITSSOPRETTYITSOSPRETTYITSSOPRETTYITSSOPRETTYITSSOPRETTY

gothams sleepiest detective

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

An Alpha A Bit Different

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Pairing; Omega!Bang Chan x Alpha!Male!Reader

Themes; Omegaverse AU • Fluff • Smut • Angst • Enemies to Lovers(not really) •

Content Warning; expected stereotypical behavior (for omega and alpha alike), mentions of past trauma, reader has a hard time eating, plot slightly based off of "connected", reader is younger (born in the 02) and taller than chan (about 5 inches/12cm), mention of anxiety attack, reader can't look at his own reflection, reader and chan are really insecure, reader has good parents (shockingly), mentions of hyunlix being canon, minsung mutual pining, harrassment.

Word Count; 1.6k

Summary; Moving in didn't give (M/n) the best impression, and he decides to spend the rest of the night in his room, falling asleep. The next morning, he's feeling conflicted when he's told that Chan may have taken care of him, covering his body while he slept. (M/n) was confused, unsure of how he should interpret Chan's behavior toward him, and also, finding it hard to not think about him.

Chapter 2; Our New Roommate, (M/n)

!please, reblog and leave feedback to let me know what you think about this fic~!

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Being dragged pretty much against his will, (M/n)'s brain heard words but didn't process them as he would usually do, he was way too nervous and uncomfortable, "This is gonna be so much fun! We'll have sleepovers every night, we can watch movies together while cuddling, we can have gaming sessions, we'll throw the sickest parties ever-!" Jisung's excited rambling didn't stop until they walked in through the door.

"No parties, Jisung," they heard a sweet voice say, the same voice that (M/n) had been thinking about pretty much every night. Chan's voice.

Looking up from the floor, (M/n) was met with Chan's curious stare but watching him roll his eyes with a deep sigh.

"I'll be in my room," he muttered as he turned around and left the living room. Well, that really stung.

(M/n) was used to being rejected, especially by omegas and other alphas, after a few years he didn't mind it anymore, but somehow, having Chan reject him without saying a single word to him made his alpha shy away, whining in submission. He had no idea why he reacted like that, but the bitter taste of knowing Chan would never like him made him want to leave and go back to his parents' house.

Jisung didn't seem to realize Chan's actions, and if he did, he decided to simply ignore it and he dragged (M/n) further in. He smelled Chan's scent mixing with Jisung's, and Changbin's really subtle scent, and he would've had a hard time in that place if it wasn't because, with Jisung sticking right on his side, his scent felt stronger, covering most of Chan's omega scent, enough for his brain to function properly again.

Almost tripping over his own two feet, (M/n) followed Jisung who soon stopped walking, standing in front of a closed door, "Well, here's your new room!" Jisung announced as he proceeded to open the door to the only vacant room in the apartment, "That's Changbin's room, and this one is mine," he added, gesturing toward the door across from his and to the one next to it.

Walking in, (M/n) gave a glance at the room. The bed was in the furthest corner from the door, neatly made with white sheets and no comforter. A bedside table next to the bed, a door to an ensuite bathroom at the foot of the bed, and on the opposite wall an empty desk and a drawer next to it. The room was plain and it kinda made sense to him since Hyunjin had moved out about a month ago.

"Make yourself at home~!" Was all Jisung said before he left the room, closing the door behind him. (M/n) placed his few bags on top of the bed, getting stuff out to start arranging his things. He decided to start with the bathroom.

_____

Once he was done putting everything in its place, and noticing he only needed half of the drawer to put his clothes in, he took off his boots and lay on the bed, his nose picking up the smell of lavender and making him scrunch his nose at it. He's not much of a fan of lavender-scented things.

And while he looked at the ceiling, his stomach growled. (M/n) frowned and closed his eyes, not really feeling like walking out and facing Chan's disapproving stare, after all, he could go a day -a few actually- without eating. So after plugging in his phone to charge he lay on his side, facing the wall, not bothering to turn off the room light and he closed his eyes, soon falling asleep.

_____

Chan finished cooking dinner, and he walked into the living room, kind of expecting to see his three roommates playing video games on the tv, but only Changbin and Jisung were there, and at that moment, he realized he hasn't seen (M/n) since he came with Jisung earlier in the day.

Standing there with his hands on his hips, he looked over his shoulder, seeing that there was light coming from under the door of (M/n)'s room and he walked over, deciding on maybe just being nice to the alpha, after all, he is Jisung's best friend and he's heard plenty of things from the male.

He knocked on the door hesitantly, and after getting no response, he sighed, "Dinner's ready," still nothing and Chan kinda got worried when he thought something may have happened to (M/n), and in his mind, he excused his worrying as not wanting to have Bin and Hannie angry at him for not checking on their new roommate, "I'm coming in," he muttered loud enough for the male to hear him and still, no response.

Chan opened the door and peeked inside.

He saw (M/n) on his bed, still dressed and he sighed annoyed, thinking that he might've been ignoring him, so he walked closer to him. Standing close enough, Chan was able to smell his scent, his body shivering at being in close proximity to an alpha. Chan hated so much that his body reacted that way simply because he stood close to an alpha, there wasn't a day where he cursed his omega instincts to wanting to be taken care of by the alpha partner he was destined to have.

He didn't use to hate his secondary gender, but a lot of stuff happened to him when he was still a teenager, struggling to relieve the sexual urges he felt with every heat he went through.

Shaking his shoulders as his head got clouded by bad memories, he took one more step and leaned his body enough to see that (M/n) had fallen asleep. Something about seeing the male curled up in his himself made Chan's beat faster, the urge to keep (M/n) comfortable and warm took over him, so gritting his teeth and ignoring how his heart seemed to be beating in his ears, Chan walked to the drawer and took out a duvet from the bottom drawer.

Walking back to the bed, he gently covered (M/n)'s body with it, and his hand sweetly moved his hair out of his face, seeing him snuggling further into the duvet, a small smile on his lips as the frown disappeared from his face. Chan had to bite his tongue to get himself to move instead of getting in bed with the alpha, wanting to feel his warmth on his body. Letting out a deep sigh, he turned around, heading to the door and turning the light off before closing the door behind him.

When he walked back into the living room, Jisung looked at him over the back of the couch, "And (M/n)?" Something about Jisung knowing where he was made Chan's face feel warm, and he headed to the kitchen to avoid any kind of teasing from his younger roommates.

"He's asleep," he stopped at the door to the kitchen and looked at both males, still sitting on the couch, looking at them with unreadable expressions on their faces, "Dinner's ready, come on or it'll get cold."

That night, Chan definitely spend a while wondering why he did that for (M/n), and he knew it wasn't just to be nice, after all, (M/n) is an alpha... but he felt like that didn't really matter in this situation. Conflicted with himself and his actions, Chan stayed awake all night, working on a new song that could -maybe- help him express his feelings and insecurities a little bit better.

_____

The next morning, thanks to his internal clock, (M/n) woke up early. Although he most likely woke up because he was practically starving at this point, even so, he knew he wouldn't be able to digest anything until later in the day so he'll have to spend his day with an empty, rumbling stomach until he could eat something and not feel sick.

And in the internal debate about food, he realized something, not only did he fall asleep without changing into more comfortable clothes... he was also covered with a duvet. His first guess was that Jisung did it and pretty much convinced, he stood up, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed to his bathroom for a quick shower, taking the scent blockers that were already falling off on their own and their effect was probably gone by now.

He dressed in his usual style. Black. From head to toe, not a single hint of color on his clothes, only if it wasn't because of the design in his t-shirt. He put on a sweatshirt over and tightly tied his Dr.Martens before walking out with his phone in hand.

Hesitantly walking into the kitchen, (M/n) started looking for something he could eat later on the campus, but he saw a few containers labeled as Chan's, so he closed the fridge and decided on just drinking (hot choco/coffee/tea).

Holding the steaming mug in his hand, he leaned against the counter and saw how a sleepy Jisung walked in, rubbing his eyes and yawning, "Did you put a duvet on me last night?"

Jisung blinked a few times and (M/n) waited until his brain processed the question.

"Nope, but Chan went to your room last night and told Bin and me that you were asleep, maybe he did it," well, Jisung had no idea the conflict (M/n) felt at his words. Despite really disliking his presence, Chan did that for him?

Maybe it didn't mean anything for the omega, but damn, did it make (M/n) flustered knowing that he did that even if there was no need to.

(M/n) stood there, drinking from his mug occasionally while Jisung stuffed his cheeks with some food he got from the fridge, soon being accompanied by Changbin, and after washing everything and putting it all back in its place, they left together for university.

The alpha trailed behind them, wondering why he was still thinking about Chan and asking himself how he could get the omega to like him, even if only as a friend...

Well, for now.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

omg hi a fellow not lady who loves bang chan as much as i do!! i love your fics sm theyre the only male/gn reader stuff i can find for him, especially for the smut

speaking of... id like to send in a request

chan x male reader smut where chan has a huge praise kink:) maybe theyre already bfs and theyre in the studio then reader casually compliments him, notices how much it affects chan, and things escalate

First ever request yay~!

I get you dude, I've been living with reading afab/fem reader for Chan but is not the same 🙃 so, to all male readers starving for some Bangchan content, I am here to serve you!

|Bang Chan x Top!Male!Reader|

•Lime•

Warning; praise, semi-public (you're in his studio), thigh riding, cum eating, established relationship, bottom!chan, top!reader, nicknames (puppy, good boy, baby)

Word Count; 1.5k

This wasn't meant to happen. It was just a casual, passing compliment, the usual thing (M/n) did, and yet somehow, this time he realized just how much Chan actually liked getting praised.

Accompanying Chan in his studio wasn't rare, the male actually liked having (M/n) around whenever he was working on music, sometimes another's person view on a song could really help him, especially if he got stuck, ran out of ideas, or just lacked the inspiration. And that's exactly what (M/n) was doing now.

He was attentively listening to the new track Chan was working on, and it was safe to say he was vibing with it, even if there was something in the beat that didn't quite fit just yet, most likely because the track was still unfinished and fresh, but it was good and Chan realized that when he saw the wide smile on (M/n)'s face.

Taking the headphones off once Chan paused the track, (M/n) gently patted Chan's curly hair, "You did so well, baby, it already is such a good song," it was an innocent praise that didn't mean to mean something else, but Chan felt how his face started to heat up, his ears burning red soon enough.

He blinked a few times and looked down at his hands, playing with the sleeves of his oversized hoodie.

"Thank you, (M/n)," his voice was weak, just loud enough for the male to hear him.

(M/n) thought his reaction was a little odd, so experimentally, he moved his hand to scratch the curls on the back of his head, seeing how his body shivered at his touch, a small, muffled moan releasing from his throat, loud enough for (M/n) to hear him, and he decided why not tease a bit about it.

"My little puppy likes it when he gets praised, doesn't he?" Leaning closer to Chan's neck, (M/n) saw instinctively how he tilted his head, giving him free access to his beautifully unmarked skin, "Good boy," he whispered in his ear, soon pressing his lips on his neck, leaving kisses that lingered on his heated skin a bit too much.

Chan whined, squirming on his chair and pressing his thighs together for a moment, "I'm... a good boy?" He asked breathlessly, obviously wanting- needing the praise from (M/n).

And smirking when he noticed the subtle neediness in his voice, (M/n) made Chan look at him straight in the eye, his warm brown eyes unfocused, a dazed, desire-filled look in them.

"You're my good boy, Channie," whether it was because of his words or his voice, (M/n) heard loud and clear the needy whimper Chan released, and gently holding his face in his hand, he closed the distance between their lips, kissing him with fervor and passion, their love not needing to be spoken for them to know.

Lowering his hands to hold onto Chan's chair armrests, he spun him around, breaking their kiss and smiling when Chan whined, wanting to connect their lips again.

Sweetly pushing his curls back, (M/n) held Chan's hand in his, making him stand up and walk toward him, patting his lap in a silent invitation for him to straddle his hips. Slowly, Chan placed one knee on the couch, next to (M/n)'s thigh, and the male smiled at him, reaching his hands to hold onto his hips, slowly guiding him on top of him.

Chan rested his forearms on (M/n)'s shoulders, his fingers playing with strands of his hair. (M/n) tilted his head slightly, his hands still holding onto Chan's hips, his eyes trailing down just enough to stare at his plump lips, of course, Chan wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted so it didn't take him long to lean down and press his lips on (M/n)'s.

Unable to hold back his smirk, (M/n)'s hand moved slowly until they were resting on Chan's ass, subtly squeezing his cheeks and making the male on his lap whine. "(M/n)~" Chan moved his hips, grinding against (M/n)'s clothed cock, letting out a soft gasp when he felt the male's erection pressing between his legs, "I want you..."

Licking his lip, (M/n) pressed Chan's body closer to his, inching closer to his neck, "There's nothing to prep you here, puppy, I don't wanna hurt you," squirming on his lap, Chan trailed his hands down to (M/n)'s chest and further down to the waistband of his sweatpants, his fingers tracing the outline of his hard cock.

"I'll be fine, I just need you, (M/n), please..." He whispered breathlessly and (M/n) really had to bite his tongue to hold himself back, thinking of something that could distract Chan for a while.

"How about you ride my thigh instead, baby? Then I'll give it to you for as long as you want once we get to my apartment," he moved away from Chan's neck enough to look at him in the eyes, "What do you say, puppy? Are you gonna be a good boy and obey?"

Feeling shivers running down his spine, Chan nodded and shifted his weight until one of his knees was in between (M/n)'s legs, keeping a subtle pressure on his cock.

Smiling at the curly-haired male, (M/n) slowly started guiding Chan's hips on his thigh, paying close attention to the small sounds he released, short gasps and breathless moans coming out right next to his ear once he buried his face back on Chan's neck, leaving kisses on his skin.

The feeling of (M/n)'s warm breath made Chan grip the fabric of his long-sleeved shirt, letting out a needy whine as he grinded his hips faster, harder, his cock twitching inside his clothes, drops of pre-cum wetting his underwear and staining through his pants.

"That's my good boy, look at you, riding my thigh and letting out such pretty moans, baby," (M/n) pressed a trail of kisses up his neck and cheek until he reached Chan's lip, pushing his tongue inside when Chan slightly opened his mouth, whimpering when he pulled back, "I wanna see you cum, puppy, can you cum for me?" Releasing a desperate whine, Chan shook his head, trying to get more stimulation on his cock, but it wasn't enough.

He needed more than just grinding, he needed to get fucked on this damn couch. Right now.

"I can't-" he mumbled, pulling harder on (M/n)'s clothes, "I can't cum... (M/n), please I wanna cum," his eyes were filled with tears, his hand clumsily reaching for (M/n)'s cock, attempting to pull it out and just take it in, not caring about the pain he'll be feeling the next morning, "I need to feel you... inside me, please~ it hurts..."

Taking a deep breath, (M/n) contemplated obeying Chan's pleas, but someone could walk in on them at any moment and they couldn't be too loud, they will get caught, for sure.

So instead, (M/n) moved his hand and pulled Chan's pants and underwear enough to slide his hand in, teasing his leaking tip with his fingers, spreading his pre-cum over his shaft. Chan leaned over (M/n)'s shoulder, grinding his hips back and forth to thrust his cock into (M/n)'s hand, biting hard on his bottom lip to hold back a louder moan that was threatening to come out.

(M/n) jerked Chan off for a few seconds, slightly squeezing at its base before rubbing his tip, coating his hand with his pre-cum.

Chan wrapped his arms around (M/n)'s middle, muffled cries of pleasure filling the quiet room, "I'm gonna..."

"Is okay, baby, cum on my hand," a few more jerks of his hand had Chan closing his eyes tightly, his cum spilling out and staining (M/n)'s hands, some dripping down his length, "Such a good boy, so obedient, my precious Channie," (M/n) whispered next to his ear, pressing a kiss on his hair.

Taking his hand out, (M/n) stared at how Chan's cum slowly dripped down his hand, and he couldn't resist.

He moved his hand closer to his face and started licking the cum off of it, a slightly sweet taste to it, barely perceptive. At the sight, Chan couldn't hold back the high-pitched whine he released, feeling how only one orgasm wasn't enough to satisfy him.

"Can we... go now?" He asked in a whisper, and (M/n) smirked at him, kissing him and letting Chan taste himself in his mouth, making him whimper as he found the action way too hot.

"Since my puppy was a good boy, he'll get a reward," he held Chan tight against his body, letting him feel his hard cock, throbbing inside the confinement of his clothes, "Hopefully, you remember your safe word, right?" Without saying a word, Chan nodded, standing up with wobbly legs and fixing his pants, "Good, now make sure you get everything done and we can go."

Never has Chan saved a file and gathered his things as quickly as he did just then.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

A slight break from my norm. An early Christmas present WIP for @duxinteritio (go check out her bowxluigi fic and other original writings)

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

Fun fact! For the bad guys meeting in Wreck it Ralf, Nintendo gave Disney very specific instructions on how Bowser would hold his cup. They made sure that during his silent cameo, he would be portrayed just right, down to how he holds a teacup. Meaning this:

had to be approved by Nintendo before being shown to the public. Just thought I’d mention that.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

rbing this so i can save for later when i have time to read

corrupt me, own me

☆.   ﹟SUMMARY – In the entirety of his years as Dick Grayson, previous Robin, he never would’ve figured he would be here.

☆.   ﹟PAIRING – Bottom!Dick Grayson x Top!Male Reader

☆.   ﹟WARNINGS – pwp, language, oral (r receiving), anal, pet names, cum eating, Dick being Dick, Dick’s fat ass, reader has a fat dick (so real), dacryphilia (?), Dick going from being all cocky to being slutty & subby, slight fluff at the end, I wrote this at 3 am so kinda messy & lowk lacks energy

☆.   ﹟WORD COUNT – 2K

Dick doesn’t have the foggiest idea about how he wound up here, stuck under your body, eyes locking with yours and sadly, the position solidifies him. He needs to cut the strain, break free however your grasp on him is tight, eyes glaring into his with a never before glimmer. It was a long, messy kiss that truly struck lightning down onto him, kissing back with similar energy as his hand at last breaks free, holding the rear of your neck tenderly. Neither of you end the kiss, Dick savoring the taste of you, gripping onto your lower arms.

He effectively sneaks off your shirt, lips connected to your neck, sucking on it delicately as you play with his suit. “Why is this suit so fucking tight?”

“How else would it display my ass?” He jokes, and a laugh gets away from your lips, catching his and he gets out of the suit with your assistance, mushing lips until his swell. He keeps up with your pace steadily, your hands tangling in his hair, stroking the soft strands of his dull hair, the flavor of outright lust dissolving on your tongue. He lets a moan slip past, head hitting the soft cushion of the couch, breathing heavy.

You bother his sensitive nipples, rolling one in between your index and thumb, watching how quick it hardens, suctioning it in your mouth. He moans, holding you near him, lips against your ear, heavy breath against the shell. Your tongue washes over his nipple, licking agonizing slow, teasing him. Your lips drop to kiss down his toned stomach, leaving a couple of hickeys on the way down. “It’s not fair how I’m the only one stripping bare. You’re half naked.” Dick protests, and you sit up. “Help me then, Grayson.”

He grumbles at the name call, sitting up to unfasten your jeans, battling with the belt however ultimately he gets it off, your dick springing out. He has a cocky joke in the back of his head, however words can’t form as he simply gazes with magnificence. His lips fold over your fat head, eyes watering up quickly, lips extending to try and fit it inside. He gags on his spit, tears threatening to fall past and in the long run they do when he gets a couple inches down his throat, his tongue whirling around.

You groan at the sensation, his tongue working magic. You grasp his hair, gazing at his sorrowful face, driving his head further down and he holds your thighs with a powerful strength, tears staining your thighs. He needs to surface for oxygen, lips fiercely red and enlarged, meeting your dick again to bring more into his mouth. He bobs his head in a pleasant, consistent speed, stroking it. Slobber stacks up toward the edge of his mouth, trickling.

His back curves as his lips cup around your balls, stroking your cock and he can feel it pulsate in his grasp. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Keep doing that, pretty boy.” He’s used to the nickname, but hearing it from you makes his heart flutter, entirely settled to show he can make you cum. He can make you cum so mind-blowingly hard. Dick choking around your impeccable size as you deepthroat him, fucking his throat as his nails dig into your skin, whining around your cock as you fist his hair, forcing him to look up and drool runs down his chin, Dick whimpering while hot tears stream down his pretty face. He was such a slut.

Your stomach tightens, fucking into his mouth to draw nearer to your climax, and Dick allows you to use his mouth as though he’s some toy. He pushes through, the rear of his throat slamming into your cock. He hates how unimaginably hard he is, disregarding his own pleasure just to flaunt how great of a sex toy he can be with regards to you. Your cum splatters down his throat, slipping out easily and Dick swallows, cleaning his mouth with the rear of his hand. Its so amazingly thick and theres heaps of it, yet he pushes it down his throat.

“Shit…that was a thick load.” He remarks, temple sweat-soaked, hair strands adhering to his brow and the picture is so beautiful to you. He’s a flawlessly carved man. You don’t answer, flipping him over before spreading his legs to gaze at his opening and its throbbing, for all intents and purposes calling out for you. His cheeks feel so fat and full in your hands, so soft and you need to regain focus prior to entering him consistently, kissing his spine to occupy him from the excruciating penetration.

Curses spill from his swollen lips, nails sinking into the sofa, a burning sensation encompassing his opening before it perishes into pleasure, opening fixing around your dick as you push in, holding his hips protectively, stretching him spot on. He moans, the tip of your cock bruising his prostrate, ruthlessly hitting it until he’s shouting out, looming over the edge attempting to focus. It’s all too good. He can barely take it. Your name slips past his lips, his body trembling. “Fuck…do it harder..”

You thrust into him harder, pressing his head into the arm of the couch, the sounds of skin on skin reverberating off the walls, getting progressively stronger alongside moans. Dick strokes his own cock yet you grip his arms back, needing him to endure all of this. Dick cries, toes curling as his bottom lip trembles, tears gushing past his face. You bruise his insides, kisses being spread all around his skin. Your hips never stopping as you thrust into him, hitting his prostrate, drawing nearer to your climax. “C-cum inside…please for the love of god…do it…” Dick chokes out, feeling you pulsate inside him, your hand tenderly scouring his stomach. You press your head into the rear of his, your pushes getting messy as your climax hits you abruptly, painting his walls a pleasant white tone. And when you pull out, the cum spouts out of his opening, trickling perpetually. Dick shakes, the warm fluid astonishing him. “Good job..” You praise, turning him over to kiss his lips gently.

He cups your face, cum trickling down his legs. “I fucking love you..” He says, his hole gripping you once more. “I love you too..” You answer in a quiet tone, tongue kissing him as he clings onto you pathetically, moaning into your mouth. You fuck him faster this time, wanting to feel him grip you so fucking tight. Your hand grips his mistreated cock, same speed as your hips and he whimpers, hitting your chest for prodding him so detestably. He tosses his head back, feeling his cock pulse terribly while in your grasp, pre-cum faltering out.

You smirk at the mess you created, his neck on full display and you suck on his adam’s apple, gripping his leg with the other hand to push further inside. He takes everything. He feels only his dick being mishandled and his opening being utilized like a ragdoll, gibberish piling on gibberish. His sweat glimmers in the light, giving him a sparkle impact. He’s dependent on your touch. Cherishing how gentle and rough it can be from time to time, contacting his skin carefully, rubbing his shins. His skin is so soft to touch, massaging his strained muscles while banging into him, kissing his neck then, at that point, following to his collarbones. He’s in love.

Dick knows he’s close. He can feel it.

And when your thumb slides over the slit, he shakes verbally, sputtering out baby batter and you watch it tumble down your fingers like a waterfall, stuffing your hand in his mouth and he tastes himself, gazing at you with doe ones. The taste resembles battery acid with a somewhat sweet flavor yet Dick keeps on licking off his mess, allowing your fingers to slide out his mouth. “Good boy.” You kiss him, it’s sweet and helps him remember his happy place, cutting off his moans with sounds of messy kissing, cupping his face. You don’t know how long you’ve been inside of Dick, his tight ass and sweet groans diverting you, hickeys spread all around his fabricated body. You don’t quit fucking him. You can’t. He’s excessively sweet. You really want to corrupt him however long you can, and Dick wants you to do so. He really wants this. He craves this. He’s thought about this and you gladly give him his fantasy.

You want him in so many ways. So many more ways than just this. You feel your stomach tighten, cursing into his chest. You fall back, allowing Dick to get on top and he bounces, grinding his hips. He realizes what he’s doing and your hands on his hips simply turns him on more. You thrust up, assisting a little bit and he laughs, enjoying the helpful hand. His ass interface with your thighs, driving all over like a rollercoaster. He was quick with his moves, clenching on you so tight. He rides you like a bull, hand on your chest and its all too good.

He’s hot and sweaty, breathing heavy with grunts emerging from his mouth, his stomach feeling full. He needs this one final filling. One final filling and he’s transforming into clay. But like the fucked up bastard you are, you thrust up into him with sharp hips, watching how he loses control easily. Dick whines as his hips thrust back against you, leaning into your chest as you painfully slow stroke him, wrapping your hand around his violent, pulsating red tip that had been sputtering up pre-cum. As you refuse to give him what he wants, he paws at your chest, causing tears to well up once more.

As you began to gently place a hand on his waist and assist him in slowly rolling his hips while kissing his neck, Dick let out choked whimpers as his body heat only increased. While your lips began to hover over his delicate nipples and you began to tug his nipple in between your teeth and let your tongue wash over it, he lets out a low call of your name with trembling thighs. Dick strokes at his now-abandoned cock with his tip reddening at the thought of you fucking him senseless. Dick gasps in surprise when you smack his ass, a handprint forming on his cheek, and he can only take so much with his orgasm just around the corner. His stomach tightens, and hot tears stream down his cheeks once more. He was a fucking whore–He knew it.

“Cmon, pretty boy. Bounce on my cock like the whore you are. Don’t you want to make me proud?” Dick grumbles as you cup his face, forcing him to lean down so you can kiss again, and he begins to bounce on your cock like a perfect slut while stroking his own, moaning louder as he gets closer to his orgasm. He drives one knee into the couch and opens his mouth to speak, but all you get are whimpers and whines. When his orgasm finally hits, he grunts, cum trickling down his hand. You smile, Dick bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking off his mess. He wasn’t ashamed while doing it.

He felt pride.

Dick exclaims in surprise as you pick him up, hands under his thighs and holding him up as you fuck him while standing up, moving over to the nearest wall and slamming brutal thrusts into him. He bounces even harder on your cock, lips locked in a harsh and nasty make out session, tongue wrapping around yours as you fuck him into oblivion. His ass grips your girth tightly, his hole closing in on you, and you let out a small moan, orgasm close at hand and ready to fuck him full of cum. He can’t stop himself from touching every part of your body while growling out your name, nodding furiously as you hit that one spot that has him seeing white spots, words muddled into pure gibberish as you press your forehead into his shoulder.

You slam into him harder and harder until your thrusts become erratic, your cum spurting into his fucked hole one final time and Dick trembles, his feet finally touching the ground and he trips into your hold, gently caressing his arms. He couldn’t feel anything other than you holding him and then cleaning him up, wrapping a blanket around his body. His body sunk into the mattress, too exhausted to think clearly. The only thing that mattered was that he was present with you.

Dick Grayson was coming back for more, that’s for sure.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

this was incredible. its a shame it's gonna be for another character bcs i personally loved it with aizawa, but the idea and writing is great all the same!!

drowning

bodyguard!aizawa x prince!reader (nsfw)

warnings: ooc aizawa, flirting, sexual tension, lots of worldbuilding, tipsy flirting, sparring/fighting, gay panic, and handjobs

word count: 4.2k

a/n: the first part i wrote for the prince!reader au but it's too ooc for aizawa so im gonna scrap it and save the idea for a different character.

The night was perfect. There was a light breeze, the sky was clear to show off the stars, and the guards were exceptionally drunk. That made your attempt significantly easier. It was a few years dated, but the route remained the same. Out your room, to the library, through a secret passage dedicated to emergency exits, down a spiral staircase and taking a right instead of a left, then maneuvering through an old cellar. 

It’d been about two years since you’d taken the route, and it was the first time you were doing it alone, but you managed after a few mishaps. But the guards in your section had always been lax. Who was going to come after the fourth prince? You weren’t worth anything more than the political negotiations you’d been born for. So they drank. It was leftover liquor from a party two nights prior, and normally, you were expected to report the guards' careless behavior–but tonight, it worked in your favor. So you had zero qualms with their miniature celebration. 

You wanted out. It was never a serious problem–you understood what you’d been born for, and you’d been fine with that reality for years. Being the youngest sibling meant your duties were always put aside. It was always about your brothers marrying or the eldest focusing on becoming king. Your goal had simply been to learn, learn, and more learning and to stay alive. You were a political tool, and it was all well and grand when your parents had forgotten that you were one. Until your brothers were all married and the focus had shifted particularly hard to you. 

“We’re beginning negotiations with a neighboring kingdom. If they go well, you shall be wed to their daughter, Princess Nemuri.” 

Your father sat so powerfully on the throne. It’d been made for him, and he wielded the power with a firm, merciless grip. The last time he’d called you into the throne room was before the party where he’d told all of his children, “behave.” Before that, it hadn’t been two words for weeks. 

It was safe to say panic had started to set in. 

By all means, your bedroom wasn’t small. It was the smallest when compared to your brothers, but it was half the size of some homes in the outskirts of the kingdom. It really wasn’t small. But it felt like it when you sat in bed, hair damp from bathing, unable to take your mind off the sudden, unavoidable direction your life was heading. 

So you conjured up the far-off memory with your brothers, weighed your options, and took the one that got you out of the castle for even a few moments. You’d be absolutely reamed if you were caught, but you felt like your throat was going to close if you stayed in there any longer. And the night sky looked so much better outside the castle's walls. 

Stopping to stare at the stars was a poor idea, but you let yourself have it. You were far enough from the castle that no guards would find you. And dressed in the worst clothes you had in your closet, you shouldn’t be recognized. A white long-sleeved shirt stained green in spots from sparring, black trousers, and an old mask from a masquerade ball thrown a few years prior. Most of the decorative pieces had fallen off, leaving it a basic black mask that covered the upper half of your face. But it was already a big if that anyone would even bother to recognize the youngest prince. 

It wasn’t like you were unpopular, but the focus was usually solidly on your older brothers and their recent engagements. Or the rumors circling your eldest brother and how he’ll make an exceptional king when he eventually takes the throne. 

For once, your youngest status worked in your favor. 

That did nothing to quell your nerves as you stared at your glass of dark liquor, sat alone in the corner of a pub, listening to the slurred conversations around you. You stole glances at those filling the small space. Drunks mid-drinking game, tipsy fighters shooting their shot with those passing around liquor, travelers taking up at the inn across the street for the night and looking for some fun. The crowd was a significantly more diverse group of townsfolk than any you got to see in the castle. And you found you much preferred the drunk blacksmith ranting about import prices over the drunk politician rambling about his people losing faith in him. 

Both places had the same, though. The flirts. That was the only attention you really got from partygoers or other visitors. With your brothers married or set to be, all those interested set their sights on you. It wasn’t exactly fun navigating gatherings, trying to fulfill your expected polite duties, while people whose names you couldn’t remember but whose status was clearly defined by the fine jewels they wore tried to bed you. They believed if they could bed you, they could have you. Make you their husband. 

You’d never been swayed by the prospects. But most had been women of noble birth who you’d seen grow up. You were far more likely to be into their accompanying military strategist or the new handmaiden than them. But you never told them that. You never told anyone that. It was easier to just smile, play nice prince, and then continue the night. 

It was isolating. 

And when the woman came over to top off your drink, called you a handsome mystery that she’d love to unravel later, you just smiled and thanked her for the refill. Then you made the pointed move to the bar, where she wasn’t, and shook your head. Getting lost in your head was getting easier the more the thoughts crept up. You were going to be married off without any thought, thrown to the wolves of whatever kingdom they wanted to align with, not caring about you. 

“You look lost in thought.” 

You perked up. There was a man a few seats down at the bar. A little older than you, it looked, with long black hair, a rugged exterior, and unshaved stubble. He had the sleeves of his black shirt pushed up, exposing muscular forearms. There were a few silver rings around his fingers that glittered in the low lighting of the pub. 

“I am.” You swallowed another sip. The man’s eyes were dark and sharp. They screamed danger that you recognized in other fighters you’d sparred with. 

“I guess one tends to gravitate towards pubs when they find themselves like that.” 

“They do.” You had no reason to continue the conversation. You hadn’t even left the castle in hopes of having one. It was supposed to be: enjoy the fresh air, the sights, the sounds, the liquor, and then get home before anyone noticed you were gone. But there was something about the stranger that kept you talking. Maybe you just wanted to hear more of his deep voice. “Is that why you’re here?” 

His hardened expression softened, and the small smile that took over was heart-melting. It was like something in you had been brought back to life as he smiled down at his half-empty glass and then at you. It was all playful amusement. 

“No. I’m in town for a job.” He picked up his glass, and you got a good look at his hand. Rough, scarred, with long fingers that your piano teacher had scolded you for not having. “But I have the evening free, so I am taking advantage of it.” 

“Smart.” You cleared your throat and took a second to really look at him. His shirt was loose, and he was leaner than most, but he had a soldier’s body. You’d practiced with a handful who shared similar body types. They were the sneaky ones–unpredictable on the field because they could be smooth and quick, unlike those who could simply shoulder-check them to the ground. “If you’re a fighting man, the field out past the Red Post has spectacular displays. Tournaments, too. For seasoned and unseasoned fighters.”

The stranger cocked a dark brow. 

“Really?” 

“Yes,” you said, trying to clock whether you’d guessed correctly. “They are well worth the spectacle. Even if there’s a bit of spilled beer…and blood. The matches are truly a rush.”

It’d been a few months, but that’d been one of the few things you’d been allowed to leave the castle for. First you watched, but when the argument was made that you could impress the townsfolk by winning matches and showing off your swordsmanship, you were allowed to participate. At least you were occasionally. A few times a year, that was it. 

“You’ve participated?” He rested his chin in his hand, his expression back to an unreadable look of amusement.  

“A few times.” Outsider or not, you didn’t want to risk spilling too much information. 

“Should I find any free time during my visit, I’ll have to find my way there. Unfortunately, tonight seems to be as far as my free time extends.” 

“And you’re spending it drinking in a pub?” 

That was fairly rich of you to say and you recognized the irony, but kept it firmly to yourself. The stranger didn’t need to know you were experiencing a very, very similar dilemma. So, instead, when the stranger took the lap sip of his drink, you paid for the refill. There was a sense of something else beneath his surface that you couldn’t quite reach–more than what was typically between strangers. He reminded you a bit of yourself, except he had no reason to pretend to be someone else. You did. 

“The mask,” he said after another small sip. “An interesting choice.”

“Easier.” You watched the bartender refill your glass. “Let’s me be someone else when I need to get away from my thoughts for a bit.”

You were trying your damnedest to keep a cool exterior, but you were panicking beneath the surface. If the stranger pried, you’d either have to come up with a lie—that of which you were not good at doing—or you’d have to leave. And you didn’t want to leave. You were enjoying his company way too much. Even if it was nothing more than an off-hand conversation with a stranger. 

“So you’re trying to escape.” 

The words hit deeper than the stranger had intended. You shrugged, trying your best to cover it up. 

“Only momentarily. Is a person not allowed to pop up for air when they feel like they’re drowning?” 

“And yet you swallow more liquid to fight off the feeling.” There was the faintest glint in his black eyes, and it sparked excitement in you. “I’d say that’s counterproductive.” 

He had the recognizable flicker of a dare in his gaze. You had no doubt of it when he looked at you. What he was daring you to do was unclear, but his eyes screamed it at you. Maybe it was to take a risk or to simply accept your fate. No changing it now that it’d been sealed. And you should’ve. It would’ve been easy to simply agree, thank him for the conversation, and leave. But that dare was there, and it was tantalizing. It drew you in like…like a damn riptide, and you truly risked drowning. 

So you spoke, taking the dare he’d thrown directly into your chest. 

“What would you suggest then, stranger? What would you say I should do to clear my mind?” 

“Fight.”

Had you not been four drinks in, you would’ve had the sanity to at least recognize that you shouldn’t go off alone with a stranger in the dead of night when nobody knew where you were. Let alone with the underlying thought of sparring. You did, however, have the consciousness to forgo any sharp weapons. Or weapons at all. 

There was a little field beyond the pub. You had to walk a short distance to it, but nothing you minded. It let you look at the stars again. The stranger said nothing when you walked with your head back, eyes turned to the sky. They truly did look better when you weren’t on the castle grounds. Your eyes fell to the field, the houses, the stranger. Everything did.

The field was empty, waiting to be reseeded. You weren’t aware of the owners, but so long as you didn’t damage anything, you’d be in the clear. And with no weapons involved and no growing crops, you were safely sure of that bet. 

When you stopped with enough space around you, the stranger tied his hair up and held up his hands. He only swayed slightly from his drinks, and when you grinned and attacked, you nearly fell when he parried your attack with ease. So you tried again, and again. He wasn’t easy to land any hits on—and he seemed to have no plans of letting you. 

You counted about six rounds, none with any winners, and both of you parted and panted. He still stood straight as he huffed, a few loose strands of black hair framing and sticking to his face. You, on the other hand, cracked your neck and rolled your shoulders, pushing your sleeves up as sweat damped them. The stranger was right—it was a lot better to fight than to drink. 

The seventh round was a little different. Where you expected another draw, you were met with something else. The alcohol was mixing with too many things. Like exhaustion and the reality that you needed to return to the castle soon should you wish to avoid being caught. It made you sloppy. 

So when his foot swept yours, you didn’t dodge. The world spun more than it typically did when you were knocked flat on your back, and in your disorientation, you felt the stranger grab your collar. There was a heavy weight against you—from your abdomen to your wrists. The loose strands of hair tickled your cheeks as you blinked a few times, staring up into his eyes. 

“You’re a good fighter.” You tried to keep your voice even, but it came out in an uneven breath. “Whoever trained you taught you well.”

“Perhaps you would’ve won if you took the mask off.” His hand slid from a wrist he had pinned beside your head. The tips of his fingers skimmed the underside of the mask, and in a panic, you sat up, shoving him back slightly, tasking his wrist in your hand. 

“Mask stays on.” It was the only thing that you could think to say. 

Dirt dug into your elbows as you stared at him. In the moonlight, it was hard to see his expression clearly.

His fingers tightened on your collar and he lowered himself, cheek to cheek, mouth beside your ear. “What are you hiding from?”

“And why do you want me to take the mask off so badly?” It was a knee-jerk reaction. One to avoid answering his question. You weren’t hiding, at least you didn’t feel like you were. It was an escape. Just an escape. Playing pretend. You didn’t have to be the prince for a few hours, and you could just…have some fun in town before returning to the life expected of you. 

“Curiosity,” he answered. You could feel his breath against your neck.

“I’m afraid your curiosity is going to have to remain.” In the town, the bell tower rang. Twice for two after midnight. You needed to be back before the half mark. You turned your head and cursed. “I can’t stay.” 

“Curfew?” 

“Sort of.” 

But neither of you moved. You could feel the stranger breathing—still rapid as if you’d remained fighting. His hand had loosened on your shirt, but he still held you close. His thighs were like trunks beside yours. You didn’t need to touch them to know—his kicks were powerful. Just as his punches were, even if you’d managed to block most of them. 

“Do you have time to spare for another round?” There was an unusual tone to his voice and just as you’d been doing the whole night, you were letting the little voice in your chest lead you, not the one in your head. 

“I do.” 

You’d kissed people before. It’d always been behind closed doors, away from prying eyes. And it’d always been with people you knew and trusted. Your childhood best friend before they moved—she was your first. Then one of the men from the guards. You sparred together before he left to work under one of your brothers. You’d slept with a woman too, back when you were left to yourself most of the time, all the focus still on your siblings. It gave you free rein to sneak off with one of the handmaidens of your brother’s betrothed. You’d spent months dancing around the attraction and it crescendoed into a tryst in a side-room with muffled moans and sweaty bodies. 

But that was it. 

So when he kissed you, it was like your body was subzero yet submerged in flames. He tasted like the whiskey he’d been drinking, and he wasted no effort in letting you get drunk on it. You managed to keep up through the muddying thoughts as his mouth pressed against yours, soft and addicting, his stubble scratching your chin. But your elbows could only hold for so long and you dropped to your back. 

He was a lot of muscle. You could feel it against you as his chest pressed to yours. His hands went to two separate places. One to the ground to support himself as he kissed you hungrier, like he knew how short the time limit really was. The other skated down your shirt, slowing so he could feel every inch of you like you wanted to feel of him. His fingers skillfully undid the button of your pants. 

He broke the kiss when you gasped. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you were losing yourself. Fearing what he might say, stealing a look at the way his eyes flickered with an understanding and his mouth started to part, you reacted. Perhaps a bit overzealously, but you were on a time limit. 

You mimicked his actions, bringing him back in for a kiss, skating your hands down his chest. You let yourself feel every thread of muscle he had in his abdomen, sighing when he flexed them under your touch. And with a shaky hand, you reached for his trousers, popping the first, second, then third button. And while the stranger had kept his hand to himself, you let the alcohol do its job and it intermingled with your bravery. 

He was just as hot and hard as the rest of him. Soft, too. 

It was like he was melting under your touch, every little pump and purposeful swipe of your thumb. His head fell to the crook of your neck, body trembling as his thighs twitched beside yours. Every indication that you were doing the right thing. It made your confidence soar. It also made you dangerously nervous about him touching you. If he did and he went too fast…it’d be humiliating. 

You weren’t left to dwell on the fear. Just as he began to suck gently at the soft skin of your neck, his hand pressed itself against you, running the length of your erection through your pants. Over and over, the same slow palming. Precise, perfected movements that, even through the barrier, almost made you lose rhythm with your hand. 

You swore you felt him smile against you. 

He kept that up until you’d matched him—shivering, panting, sweaty from more than the sparring. You’d never done this before, not this far, not with a stranger. You had to hold your breath when he finally undid the next few buttons of your pants, taking his time wrapping his fist around your cock and agonizingly slowly moving it. Even with the handmaiden, it’d been so rushed, there’d been no time for foreplay, so this? It was intoxicatingly new. And the stranger was relishing in every sweet second you gave him of gasps, moans, and sounds that mimicked his own. 

You came first. When he started to get close, his method changed. His grip got a little tighter, he went a little faster, and he whispered little praises in your ear that you hadn’t realized were going to affect you as much as they had. That’s it, just like that and keep going were first, but when he shifted and directed his focus to you, they changed. Don’t hold back, I want to hear how pretty you sound cumming and go on, that’s it, cum for me. 

And you did, spilling over the edge hard and fast. You had no name to moan, so you opted to grit your teeth and groan, pressing your head back into the dirt and closing your eyes. Your heels dug into the ground as you tried not to stop the fist you had on him. You weren’t about to neglect him because you were riding your high. 

When you gave him the same treatment he had you, he was following you over the edge rather quickly. His body tensed as he came in your hand, forehead pressed against your cheek, struggling to catch his breath. 

“Would it be too much to ask for a name?” He asked, sitting back. The moonlight caught him and he looked damn good. “I’ll offer you mine in return, should you wish to know it.”

“I can’t.” Truth be told, you really wanted to know his name. You wondered if his name was as handsome as him. And even if he was a stranger just passing through, and this was just a night that’d drift off into your memories, you couldn’t take the risk. You were already taking one by continuing to sit there across from him when you had no idea of the time. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I can’t stay.” 

You rushed to right yourself, swaying on your numb legs as you stood. You wanted to kiss him again, to go to his room and see where the night took you. To know his damn name. But you were a prince, expected to marry some princess, sold off as soon as negotiations were settled. You weren’t even allowed this rendezvous in the field—asking for more was pressing luck you didn’t have. 

“Go,” he said softly, nodding in the direction of the pub. “I hope whatever it is you’re escaping from settles soon.”

You stopped on the path, stealing a glance back. 

“Thanks. I hope whatever business you have in the town is a prosperous one.” 

You sprinted back to the castle. Back through the cellar, up the staircase, through the library, back to your room. The guards were still drunk and uncaring about their duties, your room was how you’d left it, and your clock said you were five minutes early. Cutting it too close. Anytime after that, you risked those who snuck from rooms and back into their own, pretending they hadn’t spent hours in another’s bed, seeing you return. And that’d be cause for gossip you had no intention of trying to navigate. 

But you were safe. Even if the stranger had left a series of love marks along your neck. 

You’d have to wear a high collar the next day—and you did. You rode the high of the night through breakfast, schooling, training, and lunch. Albeit made your mind wander into dangerous territories as you replayed the evening. Over and over and over again until you almost had to retire to your room to relieve yourself of the heat that flooded your body. But you weren’t given the chance. Your perfectly fine day was ruined by the summons to the throne room. 

Meeting your parents never ended well for you. At least, not for your sanity. 

Guided inside, your heart dropped in a way you never experienced. While your parents were dressed perfectly in their typical king and queen attire, they spoke to a tall young woman with hair darker than the night’s sky and a smile that could kill. Her dark purple dress stood out against the golds and reds of the throne room, but that wasn’t where your eyes had stayed. They fell to the two men beside her. One with hair bright blond down to the center of his back, dressed in silver and back, a large book in one hand. The other with long black hair, stubble on his jaw, and sharp dark eyes. A sword was sheathed at his hip. 

“Ah, son. We’d like to formally introduce you to Princess Nemuri and her associates.” He pointed to the blond first, then the man who you hadn’t taken your eyes off of. “Her family’s escort, Hizashi Yamada, and her head bodyguard, Shota Aizawa.”

You forced a smile and squashed your nerves, turning your attention to the woman as soon as Shota’s eyes fell to you. If there was any recognition in his features, you didn't give yourself the chance to look. It was near impossible to keep your voice steady, but you had absolutely no other option. The last thing you needed anyone knowing was that you’d snuck out of the castle and fooled around with the princess’ bodyguard. 

And you certainly didn’t need him to recognize you either. 

“It’s nice to meet you all. You look lovely, Princess Nemuri.” 

Yet as you bowed your head, you stole a glance at Shota who studied you a little longer than you liked. The slight quirk of his brow made your heart nearly burst from your chest. 

You were unequivocally and royally fucked.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

rbing to listen to later<3333

My full playlist masterlist!

Note: Some of these playlists do contain 18+ content and mentions of sexual acts, and some characters who are broadly speaking unhealthy, manipulative, and/or violent.

D.A.M.N. characters:

Freelancer

Redefining circumstances [Gavin x freelancer]

D.A.M.N. we fell in love [Gavin x freelancer x Lasko x Damien]

Deep breathes [Lasko]

Raise hell [Damien]

Be something more [Huxley]

Wolf pack:

At my side [David x angel]

I got you [Asher x babe]

Hey, sweetheart [Milo x sweetheart]

Vampire clan:

Sparks fly [Vincent x lovely]

It comes easy [Sam x darlin]

Misc:

I still love you [Avior x starlight]

Safety [Geordi x cutie]

You deserve me [Vega influenced Ivan x baby]

A thousand miles [Non-influenced Ivan/Flyboi x baby]

Tempation [Vega]

Over the line [Marcus x love]

Never be alone [Regulus x listener]

Street racing au:

blowing gavin in the backseat

street racing with damien

smoking with huxley after a race

fucking lasko over his desk

making out in kody’s backseat

riding motorcycles with david

teasing asher at a race

giving milo roadhead

bondage in the backseat [Vega-influenced Ivan x baby 1.0]

cat and mouse [Vega x warden]

cool it, cowboy [Sam x darlin]

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rbing to save to listen to later<3

Redacted Playlists Part 2

Part 1 

I made a bunch of playlists of what I think each of the redacted music tastes are. These are public so you can like them and listen to them as much as you please. 

Disclaimer: These are my opinion

Vincent: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/64sqhbWICbotsG9LLjbQcA?si=aT_xJDGTT7as8ok6c6cE5g

Lovely: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/345SvcoVismi4sjSO7ZqET?si=l0K-3HHhTCm2pEV-t0luIA

Freelancer: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1HuO7gEJnpp0Gt3xZjM4N9?si=3LUvfu7QRoyy5kd3xnq9Ng

Gavin: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5qtsZ44qMBjOf4SwCI1Tyr?si=Bm0YA7tQTZ6x2a3y0spbMg

Lasko: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2IgdwVUM0x6by0VMXmfaat?si=alvmur5YR-GI5hv8FxKw-g

Damian: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/51ljZL3tCVx1RD1vSxc8AL?si=waKw9ee9Ri2W9R8UAaUOuQ

Geordi: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2s343TarGDWyHaqNNTuA9v?si=1DjsrLA7QmG3eHsNlKA9Wg

Cutie: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/09ClKhleK0FJd1A3TiOekp?si=xpuHCWotSf6ORTE-xP6BxA

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

see now this is content

i love the idea of sub huxley so goddamn much (no pun intended)

the red ropes (1)

Sub Huxley (Poly!DAMN) smut

Part 1

t.w/c.w - mild dumbification, slightly sadistic lasko + damien, praise kink, slight exhibtionism, bondage, established BDSM dynamic, use of honourifics (sir, king + master), ruined orgasms, edging, very very mild overstimulation

The tight red ropes were slightly constrictive around Huxley’s chest as he walked. Not that he didn't like it. Huxley had often fantasised about doing something like this… doing something that could so easily get him caught.

Earlier that morning, the Freelancer had wrapped him up so prettily, making him their perfect little playtoy. They’d promised to keep him tied up like a beautiful gift until they could get home and take him apart.

It was safe to say, Huxley’s pants were a little tighter than normal. 

The silky red ropes had been designed for long periods of use and were extremely comfortable. It helped keep the Earth’s mind slow and steady. His anxiety was under control as the ropes kept every bad thought at bay. He didn’t need to think about anything but his school work and the love that he felt from being so securely wrapped up. 

His phone buzzed, their contact name flashing across the screen.

‘the short one <3’ He, in fact, had not chosen the nickname. That was Damien’s handiwork. He was very proud of the fact that he was a whole ½ inch taller than his counterpart.

“Hey, how are you feeling honey?” Their soft voice floated through his phone into his ear. He shivered at the low timber of their voice. “G-good.” He stuttered, the words felt thick in his throat. “They feel good and I'm keeping half an eye on them. I’ll send you progress pics throughout the day to let you know.” He responded quietly, mind floating slightly as they breathed in his ear.

“Good boy.” They breathed so softly. He let out a whimper, a quiet but distinct noise. His cheeks flushed as he quickly looked around to see if anyone had heard. “Floating in the clouds a bit, baby?” Freelancer laughed lightly, thoroughly enjoying the noises they could pull from him. 

It made them proud.

“Okay, I have to go to my first class. Are you gonna be okay?” They whispered gently, he could picture them running their fingers over his cheeks as they spoke. He closed his eyes and subconsciously leaned into the imaginary touches.

“Mhm.” he hummed, mind slowly coming back into himself. “Hux, I want you to call me anytime you need or want okay? This is gonna be a lot and I'm here for you every step of the way.” They promised, speaking their words slowly and clearly so that the message stuck in his brain.

“Thank you.” He swallowed thickly, his mind absorbing their words easily. It was always easy when it was them. 

“Okay, I really have to go. Bye honey, stay safe and feel free to call me or take them off at any time.” They reiterated, sending a kissy noise through the screen. He laughed and said goodbye before hanging up again.

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

the part with the flower crowns😭😭 this was so sweet i cant😭😭😭😭

You Woo Me | Geralt of Rivia

Paring: Geralt x Gender neutral reader

Summary: 5 times you charm Geralt and the one time he actually acts on his gut instincts. 

Warning: mild gore at the beginning but overall fluff

Word Count: 3133

A/N: I totally thought I deleted this but it was just in a different folder :) 

Keep reading

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

I desperately crave a friendship like the teen titans have in Gabriel Picolo’s art

[hyperfixation-reblog-sideblog]

this was adorable and i literally made this blog for the sake of rbing it bcs it doesnt fit the fandoms on my main blog<3

Taken Man

Fandom: Haikyuu Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Male!Reader Summary: Kageyama found himself in a predicament, he doesn't know how to say he's a taken man. Word Count: 1,046

"Whatcha doing?"

You peered over your boyfriend's shoulder to see that he has been added to a groupchat, which was normal, but your eyes widen when you saw the groupchat name. You snorted behind him as Kageyama hides his phone and covers his face in embarrassment.

"You really do have a fan club," You commented loudly, with a jokey tone to your voice as you hear your boyfriend groan.

"Shut up!" Kageyama spoke loudly before throwing a pillow at you, you laugh loudly as you watch your boyfriend faceplant his face into a different pillow.

You managed to swipe his phone from his hand, hastily putting his code in before scrolling through the groupchat. You noticed that it was people that Kageyama told you about, all of the members were volleyball players from his school or a school he had played against.

"Oh, Tobio, please tell me you're not friends with Oikawa-san," You sighed in disappointment, though it was more in a joking matter rather than actual disappointment, as you noticed he still had not moved from his position, "Tobio, honey, you're going to suffocate."

"I don't know why they all like me!" Kageyama spoke muffled, before lifting his head, "They're all weirdly simping over me, it's really uncomfortable."

"Well, have you told them that?"

"No?"

You softly smile at your dimwitted boyfriend before shaking your head in amusement. You plop yourself next to him before passing his phone to him, he takes it back begrudgingly, sighing himself before scrolling through the groupchat.

"Even, Tsukishima is simping over me!" He groans, falling back onto his back, arm spread, "And he hates me! I'm not even that special!"

"You're special to me, Tob."

"Well, yeah! You're the only one who can think that; no one else, that spot is reserved for you!" Tobio continues to moan as you can't help but grin at him, "I don't know how to tell them, I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."

"But, they're hurting yours."

You rationalised as you swivel round to look at him properly, instead of looking over your shoulder. You lean over to play with his hair, as he lets out a relaxed sigh, before shuffling so you can reach him easily.

"Well, they're hurting your feelings."

"I'm not hurt, I find it funny," You replied back as Kageyama gives you a scowl before you rolled your eyes, "I'm kidding."

"I'm being serious, (Y/n), it'll build up and then you're gonna get hurt in the process, and I don't want that to happen. I care too much for that to happen."

As much as Kageyama appreciate that his friends, teammates and other players admire him in ways he thinks they shouldn't, he just wriggles with displeasure. He wants to make a name for himself, and show others that he's a great volleyball player, not some cute boy that everyone thinks he is. He knows he's so much more than whatever label they want to give him.

Plus, whilst the compliments are nice, he hates the word hot and sexy coming from anyone other than you. He already has his own fan club at school, where most girls stare at him and try to follow him everywhere. He didn't need another with the thing he consider a safe place for him.

"Well, do anyone of these people follow your Instagram?" You wondered out loud.

"Why would that matter?"

"We're not exactly private, Tobio, we post each other as much as we can because well, we can, and if no one follows you then they don't know that you're a taken man and stop the flirting."

"Oh."

"You're really dense, you know," you joked as you throw his phone, landing on his chest.

"How do I send my Instagram?"

"Oh, Tobio," You give him grabby hands as he gives you his phone and let you work your magic before he is handed back his phone.

Suddenly, Kageyama watches how his phone light up with notifications of many people following him on his Instagram. He looks onto the app, watching the influx of followers and likes of posts. He smiles to himself as he goes onto his profile.

You were right, you two weren't exactly private in your relationship.

Most of his posts were candid pictures of you and him together, sure there were the odd pictures of himself, some with his friends, some with his sister. But, primarily it was you all over his profile. Plus, he likes looking at his profile, you taught him how to be aesthetic. And he only posts his favourite pictures of you and him.

One of his favourite pictures of the two of you was a picture taken by his sister, it was technically a recreation picture. You two were napping with each other on the floor with blankets covering your legs, but it was Kageyama pressed against your back with his arm draped over your waist.

When you swipe the post to see the next picture, it was a picture of him and you when you were little, basically in the same position. He can't help but love and cherish the picture. It makes him fall in love with you all over again.

Oikawa boi, is that (L/n)-chan?

Iwazumi lmaoooo love that for you Tobio-kun

Kageyama smiled in satisfaction as the groupchat blows up with how Oikawa and Iwazumi knows of you. He shows you his phone as the two of you watch how the group chat descends into chaos. He had to hold his finger on the screen as the chat was going way too quick to read.

You and he giggle at how everyone was shocked that he had a boyfriend and that they were all suddenly gushing over each post and how both of you were so cute together.

"See, honey, they took it well."

"I'm glad," Kageyama nodded, his shoulders finally relaxing as he happily types something back into the groupchat, then promptly throws his phone away and tackles you into a cuddle, "You know, they're right?"

"How so?"

"You're really hot and we are a very cute couple."

"Shut up!!" You exclaimed, hiding your face as you were flustered and grinning at him, "You're such a sap!"

"A very happy taken sap, (Y/n)!"