#I wish I could get away with not speaking or being blunt and short and not having to carry conversations | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inherentsun · 11 months

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also on ao3 and wattpad as inherentsun ♡

Osamu Dazai was never the type to love someone. So it's no surprise that once it occurred, it was nothing short of an ugly rusted cage, looking for it's bird.

What better victim for his rough, blunt fingers, than a reserved bookworm with a part-time job that they just happened to take up at the wrong time?

- dazai never left the pm after oda's death

"This is it I 'spose.."

You held your phone, looking up at the small building of the address between you and your employer's texts. The cold air made the anxious breaths you let out visible, your fingertips red.

You never really were one for alcohol, the smell and effects of it only irked you. However, to your dismay, the only short-notice part-time job you could get was a bartender. Hell, it was so short-noticed that you hadn't even gotten interviewed. You had just turned eighteen, and the cash you got from your mother overseas wasn't enough to fund you completely.

So there you were, standing in front of a bar in the run-down part of Yokohama with little to no experience, a freshly employed bartender. Yokohama wasn't particularly safe, and you weren't the strongest either, being a non-combative ability user. But it's not like beggars can't be choosers, can they?

You perched yourself onto a stool chair, texting your boss that you were there, ready to be introduced to your station. Instead, even 30 minutes later you got no text back. Suddenly, a man who looked to be in his twenties towered over you, looking you up and down, as if he were sizing you up. Not in an interested way, more judgmental than that. He handed you a rag, keys, and a bartender's uniform. Confused, you tilted your head, "I'm sorry, are you my boss..?"

He only deadpanned you up until that point, when he finally spoke to you, a tone of annoyance lacing his voice. "No, I'm your co-worker, and I'm clocking out. This is the stuff the boss said you needed." He put his hand out, trying to give you some courtesy by introducing himself, but his degrading stare told you he'd rather be at home than even speaking to you.

"S-sorry, what about training, or showing me around the building? How do I know what to do exactly?" God, the look on this guy's face as you ask more questions that sounded reasonable in your head just makes you wish you could crumple up into a ball on the spot. "What am I, your nanny? Figure it out by yourself, I'm sure you're not completely incompetent." He spat. And with that, he turned away and left through the door.

You furrowed your eyebrows and scowled. Whatever, you'd just 'figure it out' as he said. Once you changed into your uniform, a long-sleeved blouse, paired with a sleek black tie and typical working slacks, which was surprisingly comfortable- you restocked the bar and reopened. 9 PM, great. You assumed your messy co-worker who left you to restock worked 12 PM - 7 PM, which left you with 8 PM - 4 AM. It didn't take long for customers to come in, tired from work, outing with friends, or just people who simply wanted to drink. The job wasn't as hard as your head made it out to be, and you managed. Luckily, a lot of the customers could tell you were new and bared with your less than experienced work.

Hours passed, it was now 2 AM and most of the drunkards had gone home. While the smell of alcohol and the energy of the people who drank it disgusted you, it was tolerable. Now the only people that remained in the bar were groups of friends, or singles sipping on their drink as they thought to themselves.

But after all these hours, no matter how much time passed, no matter how occupied you were-

You could feel one pair of eyes glued onto you, a pair that never faltered their vision off of you.

Aside from the bandages and cold look plastered onto his face, he didn't look creepy. Even so, something about him was off-putting. You decided to keep shoving the thought off, even if the only way he would ask for a refill was by tapping the side of his glass as if you were a housemaid.

You kept looking at him, taking note of his appearance. He had medium-length hair for a guy, thick and dark too. His eyes were a deep auburn and they burned into yours, as he made eye contact once he noticed you looking him up and down. Breaking eye contact, you came to notice he was quite tall, standing at a good 5'11 off of what you could tell. He often played with the ice in his drink, still not tearing his eyes off you as he did it. If only you knew what he was thinking about you, maybe you wouldn't be so careless with how much you looked at him.

You decided to stop paying him any mind, as it would only keep you nervous for the rest of your shift.

The rest of the night was mellow, and the people who were there didn’t give you too much trouble. In your spare time, you’d write to yourself about your job in a pocket journal you kept.

It was finally 4 AM, your shift had felt like it would never last, and you could hardly believe you'd be doing this for 5 days a week. Everyone had left by then, including the lump of bandages that wouldn't stop looking your way. You walked out of the establishment after restocking and locked the door. You sighed and spoke to yourself, "Finally... I can rest." As you were opening your car door, you heard something, and your head snapped behind you immediately.

..Yet you saw nothing.

"Must be the paranoia of working in the sketchy part of Yokohama.. I’ll get used to it." You rationalized to yourself, unlocking your door. However you did fail to hear one thing, and that was the sound of the air tag on your car turning on.

It had been about two weeks since you had started your part-time job, and things had gotten better for you. Your cold coworker was slightly nicer to you, the job had gotten easier overall, and that unsettling man from your first day didn't show up too often- though you dreaded when he did. Other than that, your work had gotten nicer, and being employed gave you a sense of purpose.

Today was your day off, so you decided to treat yourself. It had been a while since you had done so anyway, and you felt good about yourself for once! First, you decided to head to the bakery, to pick up a croissant for yourself. You were well acquainted with the woman who owned the shop, and you had a nice chat with her before you went on your way.

Once you had gotten your treat, you headed to the library where you sat and wrote for a while. Journaling was your personal therapy, a way to keep tabs on your emotions. Being honest with yourself about your emotions is what kept you running, because even with the uncertain path your life was on, at least you knew yourself.

It was around 7 PM when you had finally up and left, the only people in the bookstore with you being older people reading, or those working on the computers. Tired and fatigued, you closed your journal and left for home. As you finally returned home, an ache-y but familiar feeling sunk in, and your chest felt heavy.

Something felt off the entire day- no, the entire month.

You had been trying to ignore it but you felt as if you were being watched, your clothes were disappearing when you knew you hadn't misplaced them, and you swore you could hear noises outside your room at night. Yet when you went to check, there wasn't a trace of anyone being there.

Truth be told, if you wanted to be completely transparent with yourself, you hadn't been treating yourself for this very reason. Whenever you went out, a looming feeling of weariness came over you, much stronger than the normal amount of anxiety a person gets.

You decided to get some sleep, to ease your nerves. Just to ignore the lump in your throat that formed whenever you felt like this.

The next day was miserable, you had an anxious feeling surrounding you at all times, and it didn't help that you worked at night. Before your shift you spent your time nervously pacing around the house, you couldn’t even read or write with how sweaty your palms were and the constant chatter of thoughts running through your mind.

Once you clocked in, it didn’t get any better either. The alcohol's smell going into your nose as you poured it or as a customer asked you for a nth glass filled your nose, and you felt even more queasy than you did before. It didn’t help that tonight’s groups were especially rowdy, and it seemed as if they took a sort of sadistic pleasure in pestering you. You were able to push through though, and when you were home you felt a bit of relief.

That relief was short-lived though when you checked your phone to see an unknown number text you. Your breath was short, your palm covered your mouth, your vision getting blurry. "Oh my god..." Your hunch was spot on, your stalker had sent you a photo of you cooking.

That wasn't all though.

There were photos of you eating, changing, showering, sleeping, writing, working. You felt sick, they knew where you worked, how to get into your house, what you did throughout the day...

That was your last straw, you threw on some pants and bolted to the police station, hot tears running down your face. When you arrived, you could barely form a coherent sentence. "P-pl-pleah.. h..help m-me I- they kn- live... I can't-" you were cut off by the officer that was unfortunate enough to catch you in your panicked state, as you tried your best to explain the situation.

"Hey, hey, let's calm down okay? I'm here to help, so you can just give me the information you have, and I promised we'd help you." He put his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, trying his best to reassure you. “Just walk me through it step by step. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded, still distraught. But you felt better, knowing he was there reassuring you. “I- my clothes have been disappearing, and recently I felt like I was being watched.” You continued, the thought of those pictures gave you a nauseous feeling.

“Just twenty minutes ago I was sent these..” You turned your phone toward him, and a terrified look washed over his face. You could tell he was scared, too.

It felt as if he was choosing to be careful how he worded things, taking a pause before he spoke. “I’ll be on this immediately. Do you have a safe place to stay for now?” You looked down and scratched your chin. “Only my home..”

He only frowned, but then it looked like he thought of something. He took out a notepad and a pen and handed it to you before scribbling something down. “Here, this is my number. I’m genuinely concerned, but as we have no evidence right now the best I can do is offer you emotional help.” He grasped your hands to his. “If you ever need help, please text me.”

His soft expression gave you a warm feeling, it was nice to have someone there for you.

”O-okay. I can do that..” You said, holding his hand tighter, returning the gesture. He only softly smiled at you, before writing down what you had told him before, and taking physical copies of the photos that were sent to you as evidence.

He walked you to the exit of the station and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Before you leave, do you need anything?” You shook your head, “I’m okay. Thank you for helping me, please tell me anything you find out.”

He sent you off, and you felt slightly better. You drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in a while, it was easy.

The next day you woke up, hair disheveled, eyes droopy, and your shirt slanting off your shoulder. This was the first night you were able to actually sleep decently since you got your own place. But you had one person on your mind when you woke up, which was the sweet policeman you had spoken to. Since last night, you had already set your mind on asking the guy to share an afternoon with you, a coffee date if you will. After all, you didn't even know the guy's name, and he did make you feel sane, even if for only a bit.

You grabbed your phone and sent him a lengthy text that you kept retyping in your head, like an anxious high school girl texting her crush. It read,

'hi, it's me, the girl from last night. i was wondering if you wanted to get a coffee or something. just to get to know you, i appreciate how you handled the situation, even with my panicked state and my slurred speech. i have work at eight today, so if you wanna meet up before then i'd love to :)'

You clicked send, and almost immediately you got a text back.

'sounds great, i'll see you at (location) at 4 PM then? and btw, what's your name? i'm tanizaki junichiro.'

You smiled giddily at the response time and texted back accordingly.

'good to hear, and my name is (y/n). ill see you at 4!!'

He hearted your message, and you smiled at the gesture. You promptly got up from your bed to brush your teeth, do your hair, and pick out your outfit for the occasion of course. However, you weren't as careless as you usually were when it came to picking out what you'd be wearing for the day. You mostly just went with what was comfortable, but today you wore a knee-length dress and paired it with some mary-janes and a loose sweater.

You headed to the coffee shop after about 2 hours of playing around with your appearance and arrived right on time. Your eyes scanned the shop for Tanizaki to see him waving at you, a smile spread across his face. "Hey, I ordered you a coffee!" You sat down in the chair in front of him and took ahold of the latte he had ordered you. "Thanks, I really appreciate that! Here, take this." You fished 6 bucks out of your pocket, but he was quick to decline, pushing your hand away. "No, I insist! It's on me." You shrugged and pocketed your money. "If you say so, but the next one's on me." He only rolled his eyes at you, not taking you seriously.

Talking to Tanizaki felt natural to you, not in a romantic way, it just felt nice to have someone there to listen to you. You hadn't had a friend in a while, and although you weren't even looking for one actively, it felt nice to have a relationship of any sort. Hours turned to minutes, and minutes to seconds over your ‘date’ with Tanizaki.

”I’m really glad I met you, Tanizaki.” Your remark made a red hue spread across his face and he twiddled with his fingers a bit. “I am too…” He broke eye contact with you but quickly realized how distraught he looked due to your compliment. “T-that I met you that is!” He said, quick to correct his flustered look.

You only chuckled in response, and you two continued talking to each other over the next few hours.

“I had a great time with you today Tanizaki, but it’s seven so I’ll have to walk to work now.” His eyes lit up, and he grasped your hands to his. “I can drive you! You shouldn’t have to walk.” His abrupt and overly-forward movement made you move your head back a bit, and raise your eyebrows. He noticed this, and let go of your hands.

“Ah.. sorry, but my offer still stands.” He gave you a small smile and you thought for a bit. You didn’t see why not, it’d be much better than the 30-minute walk you’d have to take. “Okay, sure!” You nodded at him, and he gave you a thumbs up. “Alright, let’s go.”

On the way to work, you chatted as he drove. Albeit.. your naïveté took the best of you as you failed to pick up the intentions behind his questions.

“So, (y/n).. are you dating anyone right now?” You shook your head, and put your hand to your chin. “No.. and I don’t think I have since middle school actually.” The realization hits you like a truck. Wow, you really hadn’t dated anyone for a while.

”Ah is that so..” He paused before continuing.

”Interested in anyone?” You perked up at the question. No, you weren’t really. You hadn’t been talking to anyone even as friends as of late.

“I don’t think so, I haven’t had the opportunity to talk to anyone.” You shrugged.

The rest of the drive was quiet, not because it felt awkward, but because it looked as if Tanizaki had something on his mind that he wasn’t telling you. Not wanting to interrupt his train of thought, you stayed silent.

You two had finally pulled up to your workplace, and you unbuckled your seatbelt before making eye contact and beaming at him. “Thank you a lot for the ride, Tanizaki!” You were about to turn away till he grabbed your hand.

”(y/n)…” He looked at your lips, and suddenly cold sweat had washed over your body. You stumbled over your words and tilted your head. “Tanizaki…?”

He abruptly pulled your face to his, slamming his lips into yours. “Mhfmm!” You turned your head to the side, as he kept trying to pry hungry for more, his fingers digging into your cheeks so hard you'd swear it'd leave a bruise. You stumbled out of the car quickly after flinging the door open, a distraught look painting your face. “(y/n).. I- I thought you- I’m so-“

You were quick to cut him off in your ruffled state of mind.

”I- Tanizaki I think you got the wrong idea, I’m sorry.” And before he could answer, you had already bolted inside of the building.

The only thing that was on your mind that shift was your little ‘encounter’ with Tanizaki. Just what was he thinking? Why would he do that? Did you give him the wrong idea? Was that your fault? I mean, you had barely known him for a day.

Maybe you were too harsh, you thought. “I’ll send him a text after work, maybe I can try to reconcile over brunch..” You murmured to yourself. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

Something strange that you noticed was that the eerie bunch of bandages that had shown up four days in a row wasn’t here today, which was good for your nerves, although his existence alone gave you an unsettling feeling whenever you knew you had work that day.

It finally hit 4 AM, and you changed out of your work uniform and clocked out. “I’ll send him a text, hopefully he responds in a timely matter..”

‘hey tanizaki, i know i left things off on a bad foot. i’m sorry, i was just taken off guard from your advance. i wouldn't want this to ruin our friendship so if u wanna talk it over a meal i’d really appreciate that. again, so so sorry.’

Hopefully, that’d suffice as a good enough apology for him to at least talk it out with you. After all, he was the one you reported your stalker to. Wouldn’t help to have tension between you two, if you wanted your problem worked on cleanly.

It had been a two days since you had seen Tanizaki, two days you had texted. He hadn’t replied, or even read your message, which surprised you, as you thought you’d at least get your message read if not a rejection to fix things.

This was practically all you could think about from the moment you woke up, to the moment you clocked out of your shift. What snapped you away from your disarrayed thoughts was abruptly interrupted when you felt a tight squeeze on your shoulder. Oh god, was it your stalker? Were you getting kidnapped? All you could do was plead for your life, anyway. You could feel them towering over you, breathing down on your neck and their grip was nothing short of rough, at least rough enough to contuse your skin.

"Someone didn't feel their best today." An irreverent tone laced this person's voice, yet they didn't sound threatening at all. If anything, it was more friendly. Their hand removed itself from your shoulder, and you turned around, your eyes being met with the bandaged man who gazed at you, yet again at work. Your eyes widened, and you stepped back a bit. Wow, now that he was in front of you it was much more apparent how much taller he was, his figure looming over you and the very discernible difference in strength between you two becoming more and more visible as you really realized how much strength had been removed once his hand was removed off of your shoulder.

"Ah- no, I'm just fine. What are you doing here, mister...?"

"Dazai, Dazai Osamu." He stated softly, placing his hand on his hip. "Nice to officially meet you mister Dazai, what did you need that was so important to wait till.." You quickly glanced down at your watch. "4:13 AM..?"

He smiled at you, bending down slightly and squinting his eyes a bit. "Thought I'd make myself acquainted with my favorite bartender." A mischievous, yet playful look spread across his face.

'Your only bartender.' you thought. He didn't seem as threatening as he was originally, his ghostly demeanor sent chills throughout your body whenever he shot you a look during your shift. "Well, nice to meet you mister Dazai. I'm (y/n)." You put your hand out accordingly for him to shake. He shook your hand, the coldness of his fingers spreading throughout your hand, his smile becoming a bit softer each time he spoke. "Nice to meet you, (y/n). You can drop the formalities by the way."

"Ah, yeah. Sorry, nice to meet you too Dazai. I should be heading home now though." As you were turning away, he grabbed your hand, the cold sensation of his palm shocking you for a split second. "You don't work friday, do you? How about you drink a bit with me, we can get closer." You couldn't help but still be weirded out. Sure, his face didn't hold any malice, but you still had a bad feeling about the guy. "I dunno.. besides, I've never drank before. Only sips here and there of my mom's beer when I was a kid." You scratched your chin and broke eye contact with him by glancing to the side.

His eyes lit up, and he grasped both hands and leaned into your face. "That's great, I can help introduce you to some. C'mon, I'm sure you barely have time to speak to anyone, since you work at night and sleep through most of your morning." His tone dripped with persuasion, as he coaxed you with his oh-so desperate-looking expression and you had to admit, the attention from a handsome guy was nice.

You rationalized in your head, thinking about the possibility of either you or him getting hurt. You were awfully lonely, though. No friends at eighteen, only working then reading once you had downtime. One drink couldn't hurt, right? "Maybe, I guess. Give me your phone, I'll put my number in. I'll think about the whole drink thing though." You sighed, putting your open palm out toward him. He smirked and let out a little chuckle as he placed his phone in your hand. You entered your contact and texted yourself. "Cool, I'll text you then." You nodded, and the two of you parted ways. Though you couldn't but help think to yourself..

How’d he know you didn’t work Friday?

Another day without Tanizaki texting you, or even reading yours. He really was avoiding you, wasn’t he? No matter how many times you checked your phone there was no notification popping up, and it only made you even more stressed. Why was he so set on not fixing this? “UGH..” You groaned as you unlocked your car, and plopped yourself on the seat.

Once you arrived at your apartment you smelt something odd, gross smelling even. It brought a nasty scent to your nose, and your nose scrunched as a result. “Jeez, what are my neighbors cooking?” You checked your watch. Why would someone be cooking at 4:30 AM?

ping!

You fished your phone out of your pocket and checked the notification, your eyes were a bit blurry out of exhaustion and not having adjusted to your phone's bright light — in comparison to your dark apartment that is.

unknown number.

You swallowed, a lump in your throat forming almost immediately as you saw the text.

unknown number 4:32 AM - ‘check the side of your apartment ♡’

Oh god, they were there outside your apartment waiting for you, weren’t they? You pulled out a pocket knife you had always kept with you, and sheepishly inched yourself out the door. You bit the bullet and darted down to the alley, and god you wish that they were there, instead of the horrors that met your eyes as you rushed down in a cold sweat, heaving and panting at the sight in front of you.

Tanizaki’s body was pinned to the alleyway’s wall, his entrails surrounding him in the shape of a heart. And it wasn’t just him either, it was six officers you had never even seen either.

Your ears rang, and the tears escaped your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. You wheezed and coughed, feeling vomit in your throat, a bile-inducing sensation harboring your stomach. Vision blurry, eyes heavy.

“I- hafta.. call.. Police- I-“ You grabbed your phone out of your pocket, nearly dropping it with your much your hands shook, juggling it in the air for a moment.

ping!

unknown number 4:37 AM - ‘i wouldn’t report that if i were you, might get accused of a crime you didn’t even do.’

Sick fuck. They were watching you? Threatening you by implying you'd be framed for this? Your head moved every which way, trying to look for your stalker frantically. Your expression was worth more than a costly painting to them, you knew that much. Were they doing this to get back at you? Had you wronged someone? Why you? It's not like you'd ever been a sociable person, let alone one to meddle in other people's lives or affairs.

unknown number 4:38 AM - ‘you’re cute when you look for me like that you know, just go back inside and that’ll be gone by morning.’

Was this freak getting off on this? Your stomach felt like it was twisting in on itself. What happened? You were just talking to him a few days ago, and yet there he was, hanging in front of you surrounded by his organs, the smell of his innards invading your nose and making your head dizzy with disgust. Whoever did this could rot in hell for all you cared, you wanted nothing more than to replace the gory sight of Tanizaki in front of you with the perpetrator. The nauseating smell contaminated every inch of your nose, the rotting of Tanizaki’s body making you feel sick to your stomach. He must’ve been dead for a couple of days at this point, explains the smell and the unread text you’ve had on your mind.

But all you could do was put your phone in your pocket and hurriedly run back inside, still panting like a dog as you did so. What more could you do? This person clearly had the skills to kill you at any given time, and you still weren’t sure of their motive for stalking you either. All you could do was oblige the best you could.

You didn’t receive any more texts that night, but after recalling the horrid things you saw in the alley, trying to sleep was futile. You couldn’t help but think it was your fault he was murdered, him and the other six officers.

The day after the incident was dreadful. Your stalker had told the truth, Tanizaki’s body had disappeared by morning. You were exhausted, running on no sleep whatsoever, a scratchy feeling lingering in your eyes the entire day. The thought of arriving back at your apartment after work used to be a comforting warmness, one that took the alcohol's acrid stench out of your nose, but it had been replaced with a gut-wrenching feeling and a vile tang coating your mouth.

Despite the unsettling thought that you'd have to return home once your shift ended in a few minutes, you started closing the bar, wiping down the tables, and eventually changing out of your work uniform. Walking out the backdoor oblivious to what was to come next, you checked the time on your phone. 4 AM. Oh well, you couldn't avoid your own house. Finally closing the bar, the idea of going home overwhelmed you even more as the time to leave the establishment was just a few minutes away. Was your stalker going to be there? Another body accompanying them, and more things of yours stolen? Would they force themselves on you? All of these concepts just made you all the more nervous to return home, and you were unsure you'd even be able to sleep tonight, still thinking of the horrors that had met your eyes the night before.

You came home to a white note on your bed, thankful it wasn’t another body, but also drowned in an upset thought that your stalker was able to get in your house, not that it was surprising, seeing their capabilities with law enforcement. Why would your average apartment lock be a match for them? The note read, “i apologize for my little theatric last night, i just needed to express how i felt ♡ i hope you have a good idea now. it took a bit to set up which is what the rotting was about,, i have work too. nonetheless... i hope you enjoyed your shift. count on me visiting you sometime soon, except this time i’ll make it known that i’m there. hope you're as excited as i am.”

Make it known? Does this mean they’ve been near you in your house without you knowing? Everything you learned about this person has only made you more and more sick. Were they also really saying they hoped you enjoyed your shift? How could you after what you'd had seen, it was practically printed onto your eyelids, flashing in front of you whenever you blinked. You only furrowed your eyebrows and angrily threw a pillow at your window. "Fuck you! If you're watching me!"

You looked at yourself for a second in the mirror and sighed to yourself. "What am I doing..." You facepalmed and laid back on your bed, hoping to get some rest.

Despite the rough night you had, you were able to slip 2 hours of sleep in before you were woken up by a night terror, in which you relived the events of the night you found Tanizaki in vivid detail. Well, you could barely call it a night terror, as it was at 11 AM, 2 hours after you were able to finally get some rest at 9 AM. Truth be told, the last thing you wanted to do was go out drinking. Not only did you hate alcohol, but you still had the nagging voice in the back of your head constantly reminding you of what you had seen by your apartment the other night. You had been too scared to even go to the station to check up on your report with the stalker, not like it would matter anyway. Your little secret admirer had already displayed their capabilities. Killing seven trained armed officers wasn't easy, and you were sure they wouldn't hesitate to do more harm, maybe even to you. You were in desperate need of company, loneliness stacked on top of your work and your stalker going MIA at random and popping up whenever they wanted only added to your stress. So you'd take any time to unwind with anyone you could find, maybe that is why you found yourself so quickly in a friendship with Tanizaki and Dazai.

Time had passed to when you should get ready to drive to the spot Dazai told you to go to in texts earlier that day, your conversation reading as such.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx 2:52 PM - ‘hello!!! this is dazai!! r u still up 4 drinks? (∩╹□╹∩)'

you changed his contact to dazai.

me 2:54 PM - ‘i guess so, no promise ill be doing any drinking tho.'

dazai 2:56 PM - ‘meet me @ (address) by 5:30 pm, kay?'

me 2:57 PM - ‘okay, see u then 👍'

For a moment, you almost declined. However, seeing as you lost the person who was working on your case and offering you some sliver of emotional support, you thought 'fuck it.'

Your first impression of him didn't fit how he spoke to you at all, he was cheerful and charismatic, in contrast to his uninterested and cold air that had clouded you originally. It rolled around to 5:00 PM, which was your queue to get ready for your hangout with Dazai later. You wore a skirt that stopped at your lower thighs, paired with pantyhose and a sweater, simple but not bummy or anything. You wore your hair down, put on a simple makeup look, and looked at your watch. 5:15 PM, perfect timing. You walked over to the meeting spot, which was just a local park about 10 minutes away, and plopped yourself on the bench, scrolling through your phone as you waited for Dazai to arrive. As you waited, you were left alone with your thoughts. Was this a mistake? What if your stalker hurt this guy too? What if your stalker ended up hurting you out of anger? Thoughts of Tanizaki's body invaded your head, his pale skin and the image of his eyes white, rolled back into his skull making you dizzy.

Thankfully, you were able to postpone these thoughts for later when Dazai arrived. Yet this time, instead of a sharp pain on your shoulder, he greeted you with a ruffle of your hair. "Hey, you ready? You look a bit distraught."

"H-huh? Oh, yeah sorry." You said while standing up. "If you say so! The bars close, just a 5-minute walk." He said, grabbing your hand and tugging you along, you nearly tripped over your own feet at the sudden movement. You looked down, letting him string you along when you noticed he wasn't wearing his usual suit and instead a black turtleneck with black pants. However, his bandages never seemed to part from him, making you question if it was really just an accessory. You found it a bit hard to talk around Dazai, likely because you had just officially met the dude less than a day ago. You didn't have this issue with Tanizaki though, something about Dazai just intimidated you, and kept you on your toes.

"So.. Dazai.. Is your usual outfit that I see you in.. the suit and tie I mean- is that for work..?" You said, finally breaking the silence, trailing behind him and drilling your eyes into the back of his head. "Yeah, I usually just wear what I'm wearing now out of work."

You piped up, genuinely curious. "So what do you do for work?" You noticed he ever so slightly paused in his tracks for a moment, before continuing to walk again. "Secret!" He looked back at you as he said this, making a 'shh' signal on his lips and winking at you. A bit weird but who were you to judge? You doubt it was anything special anyway. You let out a little 'pfft' and simply stayed quiet for the rest of the walk.

When you two arrived, the bar was nearly empty, with only a few groups and singles sitting at tables. The bar was quiet, which was surprising for well, a bar. The quiet, unintelligible chatters of what tables were filled were the only sound you heard, besides the clinking of glasses whenever the bartender cleaned dishes. You hadn't ever been here, which wasn't much of a shocker, you hadn't ever drunk before.

"So you've never drunk, huh? How about a classic like... whiskey!" He said, landing his hand on your shoulder and bringing you to a stool, pushing you on it a bit before you plopped yourself onto the bolstered seat. "Ah- Dazai I don't.." He was quick to cut you off. "Don't worry your pretty little head, (y/n). I've got you covered." He beamed. "Bartender, get us about 7 shots of whiskey, 52% please. 3 for her, 4 for me." You weren't even able to contest against the notion, so you just sighed and let it happen. You couldn't help but think to yourself, were you moving too fast into this friendship? Sure you were desperate, but you would hate to let this person get hurt too. Maybe this was a bad idea, you should leave now-

"Hey, drinks are here. Don't get too zoned out on me!" Snaps of Dazai's fingers in front of your face brought you back to reality, and he swished a whiskey shot around in your face, the ice cube clanking against the shot glass. "Here, try it." He said, handing it to you.

Whatever, you'd deal with your problems later. You deserved a break after all you'd been through. You snatched the glass out of his hands and wasted no time in downing it in one go, quickly grabbing another shot from his hand and downing that one, too. "Woah, calm down I wont steal your drink!" He glanced at the bartender and held up 5 fingers, signaling for 5 more shots. He turned back to you, resting his head on his chin and smiling at you. "Getting a bit tipsy already? You're hiccupping so much off just two shots." You only moved your hand up and down, dismissing the possibility. "Nah... I'm good.." He chuckled and took the glasses the bartender had prepared for you two, taking one to his lips. "Relax, it's all on me. I'll make sure you get home safe too." You were comforted by that, even if you had only known him for so little the gesture meant a good deal to you.

An hour into the night you were slumped on your stool hands on the table and 6 shots in, which for a lightweight and a first-time drinker, was A LOT. Dazai took the opportunity to ask you a couple of questions, while you were in a drunken state you were sure to be honest. You were also vulnerable, he wanted you to open up to him to get you right where he needed you to be, and he didn't care about the things he had to do for that; even if it were to break your boundaries. "Got an ability?" He said, making the mood jump from 0 to 100.

"Well, I-" He cut you off, a fake tone of regret in his voice.

"Ah, wait. My bad, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to." This was just his way of making you feel like you could be safe around him, a shoulder to lean on if you will. "No, it's cool.." You slurred your words a bit when you spoke, moving your head on your arms that were resting on the table. "I can heal those I touch, doesn't apply to me though. Kinda sucks since I don't have a way to defend myself." You paused and looked up at him. "You?" He chuckled and moved his hair to the side, scratching his chin. "No.. unfortunately not, lame I know." It went quiet for just a few seconds before he piped up again. "Here, try this shot." He said, handing you a glass you didn't even recall him ordering. "Uhm.. what is it?" He tapped the glass and swished it around. "Just some whiskey mixed with gin." He said, lying through his teeth. Not like you could tell though. "Mmmm.. alright." You said, letting the shot travel down your throat. Didn't taste like whiskey, but you brushed it off.

It had turned to 1 AM, hours passed quickly due to the two of you talking nonsense over drinks; if you could even call your barely comprehensible drabble 'speaking.' "Dazai.. it was really nice speakin' t'ya but I've gotta go home now.." You stumbled off the stool, nearly tripping till he caught you. "Not in this state you're not, I'll take you home." You pushed his chest away weakly, the alcohol in your system making it hard for you to even lift a finger. "No... I don't wanna go home-" You hiccupped and wiped a small tear away. "They're gonna be there.. and hurt me and you.." He smiled at your honest demeanor and inability to keep your composure. You were too easy, he had you right where he needed you. Dependent, anxious, completely honest with him.

"Hey, what's up? You can speak to me about it you know." He said, brushing your hair out of your face and cupping your cheek, his rough bandages giving you a blunt itchy sensation to your face. "Mmmm... 'ts nothing... I don't want you to be worried or scared. I can't lose another friend.." He tilted his head and smiled softly. "Let's get you home, then you can let your troubles onto me, kay?" He said squeezing your hand and standing up, lending you a shoulder.

Shortly, the two of you arrived at your house. Your drunk mind brushed over the fact that he knew the address and he placed you on the couch, seating himself next to you. "What's on your mind? You've been worried all night." You shook your head and frowned. "Can't tell, you'll get hurt." He sighed and placed his hand on your shoulder. "C'mon, I assure you I'll be fine. I know you just met me, but we're friends, aren't we? Unless that is.. you don't trust me?" He cooed to you, tilting his head as he said that last part. His faux sympathy won you over and your body untensed, and you caved. You ended up telling him everything, showing him the texts, telling him about Tanizaki's body, and your stolen dispensaries and clothes. He only held you and listened, as you two sat on the edge of your bed, and as you foolishly cried your worries into his chest.

"It's okay love, take your time. It's been hard for you yeah?" He palmed your cheek, his sultry tone of voice dancing around you. "But you've done so well, haven't you?" He continued, though this wasn't the Dazai that you had met. He was completely different, and you were torn on whether to depend on him or not, fearful of being hurt.

"I'm here for you, got that?"

It felt nice. Nice to be cared for, given attention to, and loved. Oddly enough, you found yourself drawn to him, even if you knew nothing about him.

Yeah, you'd put your faith in him.

"Th..thank you.. Dazai.." You whimpered out through sobs, voice muffled as you shimmied your head even closer to his chest, your hands gripping his back a bit harder.

So just for tonight, you'd depend on him.

#bungou stray dogs #dazai #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd dazai #fanfic #bsd fanfic #dazai x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you #yandere dazai #yandere dazai osamu #stalker osamu #stalker dazai

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captainjacklyn · 10 months

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Making my first DOL post today..random game I got into, it's so easy to get invested.

So here is my PC, don't be fooled- that's a boy he just likes his hair long cause an someone told him it looked nice.

Kinda felt like giving him a small description, how he views most of the LIs and other characters, maybe him as a person idk this really feels like a shitpost. I only recommend the game if you aren't a minor and have a strong ass stomach cause I almost vomited the first time.

!!TW!! mentions of SA, blood, gore, violence, human experiments, death, abuse (both mentally and physically), psychopathic behavior, murder, mutation, stalking, if I missed any other triggers please inform me immediately so that I may fix my mistakes. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable, I advise you to please ignore this post and find something else more suitable. !!TW!!

Degrees of Lewdity :

APPEARANCE :

The slender young man slowly stares back at you and returns your greeting. "Oh..it's you." his name is Elias, he's a resident at the local orphanage, he won't talk back if you try anything. Just avoid taking off his gloves unless he allows it.

PROFILE/MAIN INFORMATION :

Species - human, any hybrid Occupation - student Affiliation - orphanage, oxford street school Age - 18 years old Height - 178 cm Birthday - 04th of April Gender - male (can morph his system into changing sexe so female too) Marital Status - Dating Sydney, Avery's side hoe Zodiac Sign - Aries Best Subject - English, History Interests - Cross dressing, sunbathing, napping, gardening, makeup

PERSONALITY :

Elias is an unfazed and blunt yet somewhat gentle young adult who quietly cares for others from afar. At first glance, many would think that he only speaks up when others wish to converse with him, even then his answers are short with little depth. Though it is stated that his confidence becomes much more evident once he gets comfortable, Elias can tease his peers and act playful. Furthermore, he will occasionally invite friends to spend some time with him. Whether it be taking a nap together, walking along the beach shore or reading in the library. He can crave company and has no shame in asking for someone's attention.

Not only so, but angering/provoking Elias is a feat itself, he usually avoids confrontation by walking away and even when things get out of hand, the young man will still struggle for the sake of running off. Though reaching a certain state of insanity, he looses all control of reason and will attack the offender without limit. This livid persona gives him an animalistic instinct to kill, relentlessly harming the individual(s) who previously caused his senses to go a-wire. The way he does this can get more gruesome depending on the previously inflicted physical or mental wounds on Elias, from forcing himself on them to tearing their skin open and eventually creating a gash deadly enough to give them a slow painful end. He stops at nothing until he's satisfied with how much suffering his abuser lives through.

InGameAU/Canon

Note - The statements above is largely different to how he canonically behaves. I have a knack for 'book accurate' vs 'show representation' and wanted a similar concept for my character.

In the game itself, Elias is much less of a victim and instead finds himself to be in constant control (I've been wary of any nonconsensual interactions, making a save before every choice that could lead to gr*pe or getting..y'know v*red). He is manipulative, defiant and easily angered. Belittling any passerby who leaves him a crude remark, regarding his more manipulative tendencies, this does result in him being a bit of a player.

One ↦ Robin can only have a specific percentage of confidence, preferably leaning towards a hundred but never fully. There is the excessive guilt-trip technique, Elias takes care of him from time to time and the moment Robin says something that could waver the white haired boy's sense of control he half scolds him by reminding Robin of everything he does just for him.

Two ↦ Sydney's purity = max level at all times. He doesn't want to deal with the possibility of having a bratty little *sshole follow him around everywhere for s*x. Especially not if the church proceeds to act up along with his corrupted state. The two of them are dating in game, Elias mainly uses him for protection at school, status wise at least. Due to Elias' line of work and desperate need to pay off Bailey, my PC cheats on Sydney practically everyday, having intercourse with multiple NPCs who offer a good price in exchange for his body as well as acting as Avery's sugar baby.

Despite this, he does care, I promise that he does. But his way of thinking would be similar to Alicent Hightower from House of The Dragon. He isn't narcissistic and has never once acted that way, however Elias is heavily twisted by loneliness abandonment issues go brr, anxiety and peer pressure (e.g robin getting punished for not paying his rent, Bailey possibly selling him off to the farm, etc..). This causes him to appear collected and normal at one moment and then unexpectedly go nuts.

BACKGROUND :

Elias' past follows most of the in-game's PC backstory, he was raised in the orphanage by Bailey and supposedly lived within that town his whole childhood. Another NPC who is only present in Elias' story is Monika, an older sister-like figure who was also raised in the orphanage but soon adopted and taken away. She is said to have learned to read rather quickly and many youngsters would come to her for stories, including Robin. Monika was especially close to Elias, treating him like he was a blood relative than just another inhabitant, their bond grew strong as years passed and her depart created a rather detrimental impact on Elias. Who closed in on himself and ceased to socialize, a partial root to his present conduct.

However, there is a darker side to his story. This would also explain the truth behind his gloved hands which he hates uncovering at all cost, as well as his existence alone. Elias wasn't conceived naturally, instead he was created inside an artificial womb manufactured by a non-governmental laboratory which was currently exploring the nature of hybrids (e.g beings such as the Black Wolf or Great Hawk). A group of scientist took a step further, planning a project which was yet to be approved by their employer, and decided to combine several varieties of animal DNA along with human ones. Their goal was to revolutionize the science of genetic research. Unfortunately, the team was found out and reported to their boss, who visioned Elias' birth as a horrific mistake exhibiting complete disrespect to the laws of nature. The people who had fabricated the unnatural child were instantly discarded from further company work.

Up until that point, the infant mainly looked human and acted as such. So the executive ordered for the toddler to be dropped off at an orphanage and forgotten.

TRIVIA/BONUS FACTS :

Elias is rather fashionable, he sometimes goes into the supermarket to try on a set of clothes before leaving without purchasing a single item. (the art is in the savings)

It is stated by several NPCs that he has a bad habit of staring, this is actually due to him daydreaming/spacing out whilst looking ahead unconsciously.

His favorite drink is lemonade and favorite dessert is lemon tart, anything that has to do with lemons is usually enjoyed by Elias.

When adapting to an environment, his hands are the first to metamorphose. They also connect to his emotions/primal instincts, circumstances like these are what drove Elias to hide them.

His screams sound like a mix of Caraxes and Syrax, his sounds are more guttural than actual cries.

CREDITS FOR PICREW :

#1; #2; #3; #4; #5; #6; #7; #8; #9

#degrees of lewdity #dol #dol pc #degrees of lewdity pc #degrees of lewdity oc

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jjsstars · 10 months

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thiamweek2023: Day 5, The Pack

|| for @thiamappreciationweek event

|| tags: lowkey stiles bashing but it’s more him just being a dick yk, references to liam’s parents not being supportive of him being bi (nothing graphic)

“Him? You’re dating him?” Stiles scowls and Liam’s jaw clenches, gripping Theo’s hand tighter because he feels like he’s going to pass out or burst into sobs- the smell of concern wafting off of Theo helps nothing.

“I know he’s not part of the pack y-.” The yet gets cut off.

“Damn right he’s not. What the hell Liam?” His eyes tear away from Stiles and his harsh words, landing on Scott instead, he doesn’t look nearly as upset. Thank god.

“My parents don’t know, please don’t tell them.” It softens something on Lydia and Kira’s faces; Liam can’t tell if it’s how normal-teenager that sounded or them getting more okay with the fact that Theo and Liam are dating.

“We’d never, don’t worry.” Lydia assures and gives a smile that probably shouldn’t be as reassuring as it is considering Stiles is all but seething next to her.

“Like hell we won’t- you’re dating a murderer!” It makes Liam’s stomach drop- whether it be the idea that he might be outed or the way Theo’s whole body tenses up hearing what Stiles called him is up for debate, but Liam’s pretty sure it’s both, and probably a million other things about this situation.

“No you won’t.” It’s the first thing Theo’s said throughout this whole thing, his voice sharp and eyes even harsher.

“He speaks! I thought you were going to sit there brooding while Liam tried to convince us you’re not the monster I know you are.” There’s already so much anger built up in Liam’s system, specifically towards Stiles for how he talks about Theo, that the comment almost sends him spiraling into something that’d earn him a forced cold shower a year ago- but Theo rubs his thumb across Liam’s knuckles and that helps, it always does. He wishes he could shove it in Stiles’ face and show him that Theo isn’t a monster, that he cares, that he deserves a second chance, that he’s already changed significantly.

“Out Liam to his parents and I’ll have a lot more to say.” It must just dawn on Stiles that what Liam meant by not telling his parents is that he’s not out to them yet as his face falters, shaking himself out for a moment before he gives a short nod.

“I- I’m not going to out him. But I’m not okay with you two dating.” A beat passes where Stiles and Theo hold too strong eye contact before Scott interrupts them by clearing his throat.

“Stiles that’s enough, if Liam’s happy and nobody’s getting hurt then we’re all going to do our best to support him and Theo.” He says easily and turns to look at Liam and Theo head on, holding a hand up to Stiles’ open mouth as he was obviously going to start arguing.

“I’m not promising it’s going to be easy or there won’t be tension for a little bit, but I’m happy you guys are happy. And I’ve seen that Theo’s already been changing, I know he’s not a monster.” Liam would go bear hug Scott right now if he wasn’t in a room full of people that are still divided on opinions about his relationship- he thinks Scott gets it anyways.

“Thanks Scott.”

“I can give him a chance for you Liam but one step out of line and I’m killing him.” Ever so blunt, Malia gives a short nod and eyes Theo for a moment, she’s not lunging to rip his throat out so Liam will take what he can get.

“We gave Peter a second chance, I don’t see why we shouldn’t give Theo one too.” Lydia isn’t looking at Theo or Liam as she says it, instead staring straight at Stiles with a challenging look in her eye. Sometimes Liam forgets how scary the redhead can be with just a simple expression and crossed arms.

“Fine. But when he goes evil again, I know he will, I’m not going to let him off easy.” It’s a middle ground and that’s all Theo and Liam were really looking for from this conversation— they knew the pack wouldn’t be jumping up and down with support, but no blood has been shed and that’s enough, and Liam knows they’ll come around more. Eventually.

#thiamweek2023 #thiamweek23 #thiam #liam dunbar #theo raeken #teen wolf #jj writes

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sc-intothedarknightofthesoul · 1 month

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🤥 LYING 🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE 🍁 MAPLE LEAF 🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL 📣 MEGAPHONE 🌪️ TORNADO 🌈 RAINBOW from OC emoji ask? For either Kasta or Ezra (or both, if it's not too much)

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

Kasta: Their lies are a hit or miss. They're honest to a fault at times, blunt even. There are moments where they get away Scot-free with a white lie. Then comes the times they tell their friends they're fine when they're literally dying on the inside. It drives their travel buddies crazy.

Ezra: There's a reason she's an Imperial Agent in my SWTOR playthrough. Considering the bad crowd she's in and who's the ringleader running that whole show, let's just say she's picked up a few tricks. She's a bit short, but she takes advantage of that and her ladylike mannerisms to assume an innocent persona if it means getting herself out of a sticky situation. It doesn't work on Aval Agents, though.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This is gonna be a long post, so I'll put the rest of the answers under a cut:

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Kasta: Their birthday is April 2nd (same day as Xianghua), but is born in 1562. For a long time, they didn't like to celebrate it because of the first birthday they had after their father passed away, but that eventually changes as they continue on their journey. It also helped that Xianghua, a friend of Maxi and Kilik, also shares a birthday with them, and they sometimes celebrate it together when they can.

Ezra: Her birthday is September 17th, 1560. She has a habit of being so busy with her tasks that she forgets when her day rolls around, but she does appreciate when someone does wish her a happy birthday. She's not a fan of the parties, tho.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

Kasta: Spring. It's not too hot, and it's not too cold either. Plus it rains a lot during this time.

Ezra: Autumn. She a lot of the things associated with it, the nice hot chocolate, the colourful leaves falling from the trees, etc. Her better memories happened around this season.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your OC that they don't want to show other people?

Kasta: For the most part, they are a chill person that can easily forgive others for their wrong doings (but they have limits) and people tend to open up to them about their problems or secrets as a result. However, they also have an anxiety problem, which can manifest itself as emotional outbursts of deep seated anger that was built up over time. It's a part of them that they are ashamed of having cos they know that in the end, not only will it not solve their problems anyway, they can't solve every problem.

Ezra: A lot I have in mind for Ezra will be explored further, but for what I shared in the story now is that she prides herself on being a practical thinker, someone who is always checking to see if her head is screwed on at all times. She's also an imaginative thinker too, a mind that has the urge to create and escape to, a mind usually found in fantasy novelists, artists, and musicians, a mind she often brushed aside as childish as there was no room for that in her line of work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

Funny story, I picked the Taciturn Cynic for Kasta on accident when I played Libra of Soul for the first time. How? A habit I've sort of abandoned a long time ago is that I would turn down my game's volume so I could listen to my music (I can't live without music blaring in my ears 24/7).

Kasta: I'm kinda already satisfied with the voice I already gave them in Create a Soul (Taciturn Cynic), but if I had to pick a voice for Kasta outside of Soul Calibur, it'd sound similar to Jade from Beyond Good and Evil (R.I.P Jodi Forrest, her voice actress):

youtube

Ezra: Her voice I'm not completely satisfied with in Soul Calibur cos she actually shares it with Natalie, but if I could pick a voice outside of the game, it would probably sound similar to Beatrice from Over the Garden Wall:

youtube

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Kasta: Oh, the many stories I've told about Kasta's little phoenix moments. First, they were a character I made in TERA Online, then they became a vampire OC based on the vampires from the Legacy of Kain games, then an online persona set in the modern era, and now they are a Soul Calibur OC. The only thing that did not change about them are the moon-shaped horns and their red hair. As for them being a Soul Calibur OC tho, I think I should refer you all to this post of every design change I've made before sticking to the one I've made recently:

Ezra: Compared to Kasta, not much has really changed about Ezra, except her skin got tanner and she became more well-endowed compared to the first time I drew her:

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Kasta: "You can't save everyone you love. What matters is that you honour them by living in the now."

Ezra: "Just because someone seems friendly and claim they will give you the moon, doesn't always mean well. Show them their true colours by showing them something they like and then tell them no."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you so much for the ask! I love going into details about these two as far as I'm able, there's so much more I wanna tell but I don't wanna spoil my fanfic like a dummy.

Ask list is here:

and have a wonderful day or night!

#ask #ask game #oc ask game #soul calibur oc #a-master-procrastinator #soul-engraver #thank you for the ask!#oc: kasta nik #oc: ezra fontaine #my ocs

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pinkseas · 1 year

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[parasocial bestie] VENTI MY BELOVED WE ARE SHAKING HANDS WE ARE CRYING i barely rmb how it goes anymore but hes. still such a comfort 2 me and uehrghshhdjhf anyway answerimg dat respons,..

"they could have such little conversations that even for a short time could bring his mind away from the exhaustive pain that is Everything Else" like REAL SHT THATS WHAT IM GETTING AT,... for the ppl who had been caring for him and talked directly even if theres a few. id sorta think zhongli doesnt rlly allow ppl to visit xiao for the sake of not overwhelming him with guilt, and the only healer that came for rare check ups directly being madame ping and zhongli usually go straight to the pharmacy for more advice. not even bringing qiqi or baizhu along too. he knows xiao well enough not to have a lot of visitors no matter how Worried they are bc xiao doesnt worry for himself even in this condition, why bother when he doesnt even, cant even, walk out of the inn.

i got a lil scene abt that but like YEAH PAIMON?? paimon is so great in theory and to me when it comes to her in-game i just go entirely on my theory and Selectively Read her dialogs anyway whatever feels like its My paimon i do that KFHSHDHDH despite her being the most talkative character Ever she rlly deserves more than sumkind of hyv scapegoat fr and theres way too much unwarranted hate even on harmless scenes bc the game dialogs and text alwsys gets lost in translation and en voice acting. can be misleading than the og cn too. cn paimon is the most chill ever. id like to think paimon in this brainrot tho,.. and how i interpret my paimon in general shes still a lil childish but in a good way without those annoying lines amd if she has it she learns. and xiao over time has a soft spot for her like he does to other kids. lil pai pai nugget actually. ive had lumine hold her like a plushie sometimes.

anwyay back 2 brainrot [idm published but this makes me shy again uhehe] she's that lil spark in the weeks when xiao is asleep bc of that blunt innocence she naturally has, and lumine zhongli sometimes find it hard to escape their own thoughts everytime they see xiao on bed unmoving. its depressing its still worrying despite it being a form of recovery, and venti's flute already stitched the most grave of wounds. "but people who know xiao, whether just barely or through zhongli speaking of him or through lumine speaking of him, wishing him well sending regards and how does that make any sense? that those who know so little about him would care that he gets better?" u see like, i had this cute but sad scene once that since zhongli doesnt allow too many visitors but ppl have also caught on when lumine sees Other People once in a while esp when she can only roam in liyue (whether usual traveler stuff, or she has a hand in the exorcist family duty of helping in the fallen conquerer of demons' stead after the incident) they sense that grief and asked, and it doesnt take a lot to connect the dots regarding the incident bc ppl know abt that demonic presence but only a few can guess its xiao too.

and taking that message, and out of respect knowing xiao would feel even more guilty to be visited, sends their well wishes their own way. occassionally during pre-awakening, they get letters and gifts at the inn. short get well messages. herbal tea. adeptal medicine recipes. lots, and lots of flowers from both the qixing and adepti. they had to make use of the flowers somehow before it wilts, and paimon had the idea of weaving it to crowns. she fails once, at lumine's amusement, fails twice, and a few more times until she manages a sloppy looking once out of liyue's flowers. who's it going to be for then? her traveler partner would ask halfway through a perfect crown of her own. well, guess! but not a single smug one is correct, not the inn staff not the boss lady not even herself or zhongli. surprise surprise; the first to get the honors is xiao, as the activity was done on the very bed he sleeps so he can 'have fun' too. paimon proudly, but also so gentle and careful, puts the crown as if it and xiao would break under the gesture. he looks pretty. he looks serene, if one can take away the eyebags and slow breathing and unmoving fingers and bandages lightly decorated around him. he's pretty for his own good, even in slumber. lumine chuckles at the whole deal, but she wasnt sure out the amusement or that shes touched of the ideas her companion does that doesnt feel too much and genuinely lighting up such a dull day.

her voice cracks. she didnt mean to, she didnt mean to be sad all over again when paimon made a happy decision amidst it all. xiao has such pretty flowers on his head that paimon tried her hardest to make and he still hasnt fucking woke up, people have been gifting have been writing good wishes have brought zhongli to smile once in a while and she knows he's grieving with the way the older god can still break on his own personal guilt she'll never know completely and he still hasnt fucking woke up. its a simple mess that brings her down under, and shes back to remembering the incident again. paimon knew, she always notices, always watching throughout the week, brings a flower next to the inteyvats that still adorned her head, and tells her traveler partner. hey. paimon can make another one for you too. lets use all the flowers for everyone, so it has a use and doesnt die without it. xiao would always say what's the use of mortal gifts and we're using it!

and they proceed to make use of every single one, and every staff of the inn wears one for the whole day; like a sign of a special time everything is still okay.

"id sorta think zhongli doesnt rlly allow ppl to visit xiao for the sake of not overwhelming him with guilt, and the only healer that came for rare check ups directly being madame ping and zhongli usually go straight to the pharmacy for more advice. not even bringing qiqi or baizhu along too. he knows xiao well enough not to have a lot of visitors no matter how Worried they are bc xiao doesnt worry for himself even in this condition" this is SO OUCHIE !!!!!!!!!!!! but also so fucking correct, zhongli Knows him far too well to let visitors in. itd probably be really fucking uncomfortable for xiao tbh? unable to understand any of the worry and being overwhelmed by all these people who DO worry and express care and concern, unable to reconcile that with his own emotions like Why does it matter to you im useless right now i cant do anything why bother? madame ping being the only healer also makes SO much sense and is so good i love that...

"and how i interpret my paimon in general shes still a lil childish but in a good way without those annoying lines amd if she has it she learns. and xiao over time has a soft spot for her like he does to other kids. lil pai pai nugget actually. ive had lumine hold her like a plushie sometimes." I LOVE THIS SO BADDDDDDDDDDDDD childish in a good way is SO real like god, and xiao having a soft spot for her ohhh my god. okay so like. not to Totally talk abt smth else but. one of my FAVORITE games from when i was really little is called dust: an elysian tail. and the protagonist is kinda serious but also friendly and MAD powerful and has no memory of who he was before, and!!! he has!!! a small flying companion who acts as his guide through the world and people often refer to as a toy or a mascot. her name is fidget. and her fandom treatment is HORRIFIC from what little ive seen but. but. ingame. their dynamic is EVERYTHING i wish paimon and the traveler had. dust is kind to her, they argue a little bit sometimes because they dont always understand each other but fidget grows really close to him, she has SO much faith in him even when he lacks faith in himself, she pulls him back when his mind starts to get to him, she's always there by his side stays there even in battles because her magic is really weak but dusts own abilities are able to make use of an amplify it. they're a team !!! they're a genuine team. there's a point where they try SO hard and they save this town but a sick character they were really trying to help in doing that still dies, and fidget is a bit younger a bit more naive and it REALLY gets to her. like. "but we did everything we were supposed to do..." not understanding how he still passed when they did everything right. and dust just kind of quietly has to tell her how sometimes even that isnt enough. and they learn SO much from each other and its just !!!!! fidget is treated like her own character, not a mascot or a scapegoat, and its SO good, and i think of them every time i think about the traveler and paimon its unreal. that's the treatment paimon deserves she should be a teammate and a person and a guide not. That.

"she's that lil spark in the weeks when xiao is asleep bc of that blunt innocence she naturally has" NO BC THIS IS SO GOOD even when zhongli and lumine are getting caught up in their own heads and are down and upset and unable to muster too much energy, paimon being able to focus on the simple stuff making sure they're still taking care of themselves staying more positive and cheerful and being blunt !!! telling them outright at somepoint that they're wallowing and that wont do xiao any good, and he'd scold them if he saw them like this, too, so they should get up and do something etc etc man. Man.

and PEOPLE SENDING THEIR WELL WISHES TO THE INN OR THROUGH LUMINE........ god that's so. herbal tea medicine recipes....... crying shaking sobbing.

"and lots of flowers from both the qixing and adepti. they had to make use of the flowers somehow before it wilts, and paimon had the idea of weaving it to crowns. she fails once, at lumine's amusement, fails twice, and a few more times until she manages a sloppy looking once out of liyue's flowers. who's it going to be for then? her traveler partner would ask halfway through a perfect crown of her own. well, guess! but not a single smug one is correct, not the inn staff not the boss lady not even herself or zhongli. surprise surprise; the first to get the honors is xiao, as the activity was done on the very bed he sleeps so he can 'have fun' too. paimon proudly, but also so gentle and careful, puts the crown as if it and xiao would break under the gesture. he looks pretty. he looks serene, if one can take away the eyebags and slow breathing and unmoving fingers and bandages lightly decorated around him." CRYING SHAKING SOBBING. thinks about xiao just sort of idk. Caring the way that he does, acknowledging paimon in the way not everyone does and making sure she's not hurt after bigger fights and ensuring her safety and paimon caring about him sm in return wanting him to get better wanting him to have that first successful crown, working so hard over and over again to get it right so that he can wear it. god.

something about the grief lumine feels, all the gifts theyve gotten all the mourning theyve done all the hardship and the effort and through it all xiao still isnt awake, that hits SO fucking hard. god.

"and tells her traveler partner. hey. paimon can make another one for you too. lets use all the flowers for everyone, so it has a use and doesnt die without it. xiao would always say what's the use of mortal gifts and we're using it! and they proceed to make use of every single one, and every staff of the inn wears one for the whole day; like a sign of a special time everything is still okay." THE ENTIRE STAFF WEARING THE FLOWER CROWNS...... explodes and dies. handing out crowns to the staff and the people staying there and those just stopping by and the kitchen and the children and and and. some confused some grateful some knowing all accepting, all wearing them

#parasocial bestie tag

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stevewhoreington · 2 years

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two can play

[nsfw/smut. remember that post i made about preppy s1 steve knowing how much billy wants to suck his cock but he teases him by only letting him put his mouth on it over his jeans? well. here ya go!]

Billy's mouth is on fire.

Dicks are made to be sucked on. Denim isn't. That fact doesn't seem to sway Harrington into popping open the front of his jeans and sliding his cock out; doesn't seem to sway the guy into making this even halfway easy for Billy.

Asshole, Billy thinks, and that may be true, but Harrington's cock is big and it's hard beneath the rough layer of denim - beneath the heat of Billy's mouth - and Billy keeps his lips on it, anyway. Asshole or not, Billy is here for a reason. It's stupid and it's wrong and it's reckless, but Billy knows what he wants, and what he wants is right in front of him, trapped beneath a fastened button and a closed zipper.

"This what you wanted, Hargrove?" Harrington's eyes are dark, eyelids heavy as he stares down at Billy with a crooked smile. "You don't have to answer that one. I already know."

Arrogant fuck.

Arrogant fuck with pretty eyes, silk-soft hair and a nice, big cock.

Billy can feel the size of it. He can see the size of it, too, but. There's something more satisfying in feeling it. He slides his sore mouth along the thick line of Harrington's dick, briefly pausing just to run his tongue along his lower lip. It doesn't quite ease the glide - he's lapping up denim, for fuck's sake - but it's surely better than a mouth that's completely dry.

Harrington's cock is straining against the denim it's caught in; nudging right up against Billy's mouth like it's fighting to get out. Billy wishes it fucking would. Wishes it had a mind of its own, because Harrington seems intent on teasing the hell out of Billy, making him wait when all he wants to do is wrap his tongue around his cock and taste him. All he can taste is warm denim and fucking laundry detergent. It isn't even close to what he wants to be tasting, and it's not nearly enough.

Until now, Billy has kept his hands to himself, but he's spurred on, now, by the swell of arousal in his own jeans and just the sheer fucking frustration of not being able to use his mouth to the best of its abilities. Spurred on to reach out in front of him, fingers grappling with the button of Harrington's jeans. Billy is rewarded with a short, blunt smack to the wrist.

"Did I say you could?" Harrington asks, face tipped down to stare at Billy, and his hair is a brunette wave, falling over his brow.

Billy growls against Harrington's cock, and Harrington just smiles. Billy doesn't want to speak, isn't in the mood for words, but he resigns himself to it anyway and says, "S'pose you didn't, no."

"That's right," Harrington praises. "So hands off."

The hell of it is, Billy does let his hand drop away, heavy and rejected, and completely obedient to Harrington's words. He's easy for the cock that's in front of him, and Billy fucking hates it. Hates that Harrington's clocking on to just how easy he is, too.

Because Harrington had coaxed Billy over to his car with a nod of his head and he'd followed the gesture until he was sitting in Harrington's passenger seat. Harrington had lured Billy upstairs, and Billy had put up no fight. Hadn't protested, either, when Harrington had enticed Billy to the floor with the promise of something nice in return.

If Billy had known that Harrington expected him to suck his cock through his goddamn jeans, then Billy wouldn't have dropped to the floor.

Bullshit.

Of course he would've.

It's why he's still here, after all, face abused by the rough material that's keeping Harrington's dick out of reach. It's frustrating and, no matter what Billy does, he can't get any closer to it; can't get a fucking taste of it, but he still tries like he has some kind of chance. Still rubs his mouth up against the bulge in the front of Harrington's pants, mouth parting around the the hard, hot shape of him, allowing his denim-clad cock to fit between his lips - even if it's all pointless.

Clearly, it's a game. Harrington's hard and, if he had any sense, he'd nudge himself out of his jeans and slide into Billy's wet, eager mouth, but. He isn't doing that. It's a game to him. He's getting some kind of kick out of this, and Billy's just letting him get away with it - too far gone to think about clinging onto any remaining shred of dignity. It had all been stripped from him the second he followed Harrington into his car, anyway. Billy has nothing left to lose.

"Was that noise for me?" Harrington asks, and Billy's only just realising that he's let out a distressed whimper; something entirely impatient and fucking upset. That crooked smile has never left Harrington's face. "It's okay, baby," he soothes, voice softened up and tone so condescending, so patronising, that Billy's cock gives a violent kick against the seam of his pants, leaving him wondering what the actual hell is wrong with him. Harrington keeps talking, says: "I'm letting you have it, baby. It's okay."

"You're not," Billy grumbles, words muffled where his mouth is still fighting to get at what Harrington's keeping from him.

Harrington laughs. "I am. C'mon, baby. Get it."

His hand dips into Billy's hair and tugs, and Billy fucking moans. Above him, Harrington laughs again. Long fingers twine themselves into sweat-dampened curls, and with this new grip, Harrington keeps Billy's face flush against his stiff cock.

"Get it, honey," Harrington repeats, tone a touch less arrogant and a little more dazed.

Billy gets it.

Gets it as much as he can, anyway, considering there's an obstacle of washed denim in the way. Kisses the shape of Steve's cock with damp, raw lips. Pushes his nose where he can get it and inhales deeply.

Harrington rewards Billy with a low groan. "Use your tongue," he advises - or orders.

It isn't going to be pleasant, but Billy sticks his tongue out anyway, lapping at Harrington's erection over his jeans. His tongue works with enthusiasm; hungrily licks Harrington up, as though he might be able to work him out of his pants if he laps hard enough. That release never comes, though. Billy never tastes salt, or sweat, or skin, or fire. It's frustrating, but he doesn't give up. He keeps at it, like Harrington might change his mind if he sees how much Billy wants it. How he needs it.

"Fuck." Words are falling out of Harrington's mouth and raining down on Billy. "Fuck, Hargrove. Keep going. C'mon, baby."

He wants to draw back, look Harrington in the eye and kindly explain that this could be so much better for the both of them if he'd just unzip his fucking fly and let Billy have him, but. Harrington's fingers are tight in Billy's hair, keeping him close, and. It's good. This is good. It's not enough, but it's still good, and it's still more than he thought he'd ever have. Harrington's playing a game, and Billy's quickly learning the rules. He wants to play.

Harrington groans again, and the noise sounds distant, almost - like he might have his head tipped back, throat bared, shooting the sounds towards his bedroom ceiling. Billy moans against the solid heat that he's trying to wrap his lips around. His eyes are closed and there are tiny, crystal-beads of sweat gathering at his temples. Billy is aching in his jeans, desperate for some kind of friction to roll his hips into. He surrenders to the urge and dips his hand between his thighs, cupping himself and inhaling sharply at the jolt of pleasure that shoots up his spine.

"That's it, baby. Touch yourself," Harrington tells him, moving his fingers through dirty-blonde curls. "Bet you're gonna come for me, huh?"

Billy nods. The front of Harrington's jeans are soaked through with spit - maybe with pre, too - and it wets Billy's face.

He palms desperately at his cock. Squeezes roughly. Strokes. With his face buried in Harrington's crotch, it isn't going to take long. Harrington is encouraging; tugs at Billy's hair and sends tiny bolts of lightning down his spine. Uses the grip to force Billy forward, impossibly close, and the denim scratches at his nose and his mouth, and. Shit. Billy can hardly breathe and it doesn't even matter. He doesn't need to. He just needs this. Needs to suck Harrington into his lungs, instead.

"Honey," Harrington chokes out. "Keep touching yourself."

Billy does.

"Keep going. That's good. So good for me, aren't you?"

It's filthy-sweet praise and it works. Billy's grabbing and squeezing and massaging and kneading, and then something gives.

The wave breaks. Billy comes with his mouth splayed open against Harrington's cock, spilling into the front of his jeans. His eyelashes flutter and his hand drops away. Billy finishes without the pressure of his hand. He doesn't need it, anyway. All he needs is to be pushed up against Harrington's dick, denim grating against his mouth and his tongue and his nose, fucking dizzy from lack of oxygen.

He comes and he's still riding that wave, still trembling through the aftershocks, when Harrington takes a hasty step back, putting distance between them. Oceans of space.

Billy knows, quite suddenly and quite certainly, that Harrington isn't going to get off in front of him. He isn't going to dip a hand in his pants and jerk it - isn't going to let Billy watch or help. Harrington's mouth is quirked up into a smile, and he thinks he has won this game.

Maybe he has, but.

Later on, when Billy gets home and he watches the sun drain out of his bedroom until the ceiling turns black, his mouth will be on fire and his tongue will be raw, and he'll feel Harrington on every cigarette he smokes and every smile he allows himself, and his face will still feel rough by the morning, and that - that feels like winning.

#harringrove #billy x steve #my writing

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causeimhappinesss · 2 years

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Sore loser - Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Warning: slightly nsfw

Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot somes mistakes :)

Request: May I request Fem/reader with Leon or Chris (if you can do both separately as well and clearly up to you to decide) I'm 5'3" short yet I feel like if I was strong enough to take both down on the ground while practicing hand to hand combat with slight nsfw at the end like being on top of them. Also I love your writings!!! And Take yo time if you have to

Even though you were a seasoned agent, you still had to train. It was essential for a D.S.O. member, especially when you were working with elite members such as the famous Leon S. Kennedy... A man full of sympathy, but a little too proud and confident, so he thought that training with you would be a piece of cake. He forgot that he himself had trained you a few months before another colleague took that task. Being 5'3 (160cm) short, you didn't impress men as tall as him, let alone enemies, and yet... they had a lot to worry about! You were proof that size doesn't necessarily matter! (Are we talking about a penis? I swear we're not)

That day you decided to review the basics of hand to hand combat, which meant being able to anticipate your partner's attacks as quickly as possible, dodge them and even turn them against him. Even though the blades you decided to train with were fake, the same ones you see in movies, you took it very seriously. You moved with such speed and grace that you seemed to fly over the ground like a ghost, so much so that it was confusing even for Leon. With his expert eye, he was analyzing your every move, managing once again to dodge one of your blows, at his side. He sketched an amused smile, almost teasing, while a gleam of mischief sparkled in his azure glance. If sweat was beginning to make your skin glow, his seemed as dry as the Sahara desert.

How the hell is that possible? So he's not human, but some kind of demigod? you thought, amazed.

"So, are you getting tired, rookie?" he chuckled, moistening his full lips.

Desirable lips, which you had so wished to taste these last months, but it seemed almost inaccessible to you. Yet, you could feel that indescribable energy coming from both of your bodies, every time you held each other so close. Your heart rate would speed up and a rush, similar to anxiety, would surge through your veins, then become blunt in your belly.

"Far from it. Speak for yourself, grandpa!" you joked, in a bold, defiant tone.

"Meanwhile, if I'm a grandpa, you still haven't managed to touch me or knock me down."

And he wasn't entirely wrong. You wanted to shut him up, if you couldn't do it with a kiss, but also to make him proud. Suddenly, you were more brutal in your attacks, which had the gift to disconcert him. You attacked him with a perfectly placed blow behind the knees and knocked him backwards. You swung astride his pelvis and slid the false blade under his chin. A victorious smile spread across your face, as bliss fogged your mind. You could be proud of yourself. You had just knocked Leon S. Kennedy to the ground.

"I let you win..." he grumbled in a hoarse voice. Of course, it was a lie and you could feel it from miles away. Leon's gaze was fixed on yours, as if he was probing you, but in reality he was trying to understand how such a thing could have happened. Was it the way your muscles rolled under your skin in the most graceful way, or was it the little bead of sweat that beaded on your skin, between your breasts, having a rather unobstructed view thanks to your low-cut henley? He lost because he was admiring your breathtaking beauty.

"You're a sore loser. That's all."

You approached her face to his and observed him, especially his lips, they were irrevocably calling you; they bewitched you. That kind of detail sometimes made you doubt his humanity. You almost wouldn't have been surprised if he was descended from Apollo.

"Do you remember what we said before we started, Kennedy?"

"That the loser would get a forfeit? Sure."

You finished sliding the blade down his neck, to his shoulder blades, under his navy blue shirt, which perfectly highlighted his bulging muscles, which you had loved to perceive on several occasions. Gently, you pressed your butt against his crotch and slipped your free hand on his chest. His Adam's apple went up, then down again, while his lips slightly opened. He held back a sigh.

"Do you want to know my forfeit?"

"Yes."

You arched over him, your chest pressed against his chest, then slid your lips against his ear. Your warm breath caressed his skin and caused him to shiver intensely. His heart rate increased and his hands found their way to your hips, close to your butt.

"I'm all ears... Miss Y/N."

"Kiss me."

You moved back, a few inches away, to plunge your glance again in his. Delicate, one of his hands went up along your ribs, until he stroked your nape and made you bend against him. He pressed on your nape to get you closer to him and pressed his lips against yours. At that moment, you didn't know what would happen to the two of you, but it didn't matter, you were enjoying the moment, and those sweet lips. Little by little, one of his hands ventured under your top, while your tongues fought a duel through a feverish kiss.

You couldn't wait for Leon to show you what he was really capable of.

Hey, readers! I hope you liked it! Also, I created a ko-fi account with small commissions at $1, $2 and $8 to support me and my work or tip me here since I'm broke😊💜

My Ko-fi: carolinemertz

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy imagine #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy #resident evil imagine #resident evil 2 #re2 remake

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myfeetkeepdancing · 3 years

Photo

A/N: The gif and the idea of soldier!Tom made me feel things. Not sure if I used right terminology for the army ranks. But enjoy!

NSFW! 18+

The unbearable heat, the sand, and the distance between home. It gets to you. With the sun sinking behind the horizon of sand, you make your way to the latrine. Simple plywood boxes, a couple of shower stalls, and sinks. It's a strange place. Searing heat in the day and cold nights as soon as the sun sat low. You can already feel the temperature drop as the first breeze of the cold wind blows past your exposed arms. Pushing against the door, you welcome the warm and somewhat damp atmosphere. But a wave of disappointment washes over as you spot another person in the corner of your eye. Once again, you don't have the place to yourself.

"Sergeant." You salute in one hand, the other holding your bag of clean clothes. The higher your rank, the better the facilities. That was a blatant lie. Nothing was better. You get a plain simple salute back from the other and continue on inward. You take the other stall, preparing yourself to change out of your clothes. Already feeling the unease of sharing the latrine with someone else.

"Dude...." A familiar voice calls out to you. "You look like shit."

You turn back, and only then do you notice the person you share the latrine with. Small goosebumps shoot up your skin. "Holland." Unable to keep a straight face. A ray of sunshine between all the bitter and harsh realities. "Yeah… Thanks" You sniffle at his comment. "You too."

"I heard you went outside." He says with a serious look on his face.

"Yep… we went out for patrol." You nod, sighing as you recollect what happened hours ago. "We got caught in a firefight." Jabbing two fingers near your left shoulder. "Connor got shot." Indicating the hit.

"Shit… How's he doing?"

"Lost a lot of blood. But... eh... he'll be fine." Ending the conversation by turning your back to him. Seeing him undress made you nervous. Privacy wasn't much here, but you at least try to respect the others. Hoping to get it in return.

You strip without another word and step into the shower cubicle. Opening the rusty valve connecting the shoddy pipework to release a stream of hot water. That feeling of finally being able to wash away the dirt and sand from your pores is heavenly. The sand gets everywhere. Sometimes you wonder if it's gotten into your brain as well. You close your eyes and let the water pour onto your face. Cleanse yourself of sweat, sand, dust, and stress.

With a squeaky sound beside you, your stream of water cuts half in pressure and dips in temperature. Tom got under the shower as well. "And you?" He continues, standing in the other shower cubicle. Being square in size, made of plywood, and covering very little to nothing. Shower curtains are something the army never heard of. No privacy whatsoever. "You don't look too good."

"I'm fine." You grumble and avoid eye contact. It felt weird in many ways. If you wanted to talk with someone, you preferred to do that somewhere else. "Just… counting down the days, you know…" And try to shrug off your thoughts. Turning away slowly from the conversation.

"Yeah… You and me both." He confessed. "Damn desert. Sand gets everywhere." Chuckling to himself.

"It really does..." You sigh as the water runs down your face. Relaxing you. But time and water are limited. Opening your eyes, you reach beside you for the shampoo.

A shot of heat coursed through you. As if being caught. But you weren't. You caught Tom, arching forward, staring down into your stall. It happens quickly, and you manage to catch glimpses. While his one hand continued washing his abs and chest. The other surely wasn't doing that. You share a glimpse of eye contact. You couldn't help it either. You looked. Your eyes were drawn to it. It was awkward enough for the both of you to look back away right after. Tom shifted his gaze to the front of him, looking at the stream of water. Anything to avoid each other. You pour the shampoo in your hands." Eyes to yourself, Holland."

"Yeah, Yeah…" He mumbled while continuing to scrub himself clean. Instinctively you both turned your backs to each other. "I eh… was looking for my shampoo." Scraping his voice with rather an unease and slight nervousness.

"I… I don't have it, Tom." You said, scanning the floor around you. "M-Must have fallen down the other side." Taken aback by the sound of your own voice. You weren't sure if the last remaining bits of adrenaline from earlier were surfacing or that which you saw earlier. But the authority in your voice was softened. And one thing is sure, you're trembling lightly. Watching the shampoo wiggle in your hand. You try to steady your breathing. You try to shake it off. Continue cleaning yourself. Let the water run down your face again. Count down from ten. Think of happy things. Cats. Dogs. Home. The beach. Shirtless Tom…

You cursed yourself under your breath. Feeling the blood race to places you wish it wouldn't. Think of other things. Reset your mind. But you can't. The trembles become worse. And you can't fool your body any longer. You feel it. The terror grows as quickly as your length hardens. The quick-paced footsteps coming from the other stall send you into a panicked state.

"Let me use yours." He announced as the plywood makeshift door creaks open behind you. It's enough to make your heart skip several beats. You want to scold him, bellow in outrage. Entering one's shower cubicle was strictly forbidden. You know the rules. You knew them all too well.

Turning on your heel, ready to face him. Snarl him a disciplinary warning. "We agreed-..." The words came out shakingly. Quieter than you had planned. But they were silenced. Tom had closed the distance faster than the plywood door could fall shut on its own. You embrace the feeling of his lips on yours wholeheartedly. You close your eyes and let it happen. Moaning softly into the kiss as you both inched together. An erratic groan escaped both your lips as you watched each other, feeling your cocks come in contact. Like blunt swords battling it out. "T-Tom… We p-promised we'd never…."

"No, shut up…" He cut you off, cupping your cheeks in both his hands rather aggressively. Followed by a smashing on his lips on yours. "I missed you so much." He whispered, staring at you with this loving glint in his eye. “Your touch... all of it.”

"I missed you too." You reply with a growing smile. The emotion in Tom's eyes, the passion, the care. Nothing made this hell hole of a desert easier than being with him. Feeling a mutual smile grow. "I love you." You both whispered in unison. Careful not to speak it out loud.

"We have little time." He glanced back at the white clock hanging beside the door. Even showering time for Sergeants had its limits. With a quick gesture, you wind the chain of his dog tag around your fingers. Pulling his lips in. "Will you be quiet for me?" You command, more than ask, pinning him to the corner of the cubicle. Tom's pleading eyes said enough as you put the dog tag between his teeth. Nodding eagerly in agreement. He looks drop-dead gorgeous. But you have little time to take it in. Tom swings both arms to either side of the plywood walls. Seeing him all ready and willing, you quickly grab both his legs and hoist him up by the knees. Quickly repositioning your hands on his hips, and then the asscheeks. Stabilizing the position as you align your cock to his hole.

Air escapes your lungs as Tom's tight hole slides over your cock. Welcoming you with a warm, tight embrace you've missed for so long. You both shudder, shake and quiver in utter bliss. The position allows you to penetrate deep into him. Forcing a whimpering groan of pleasure from Tom. Clenching his jaw as he struggles to stay quiet. Desperate to drown out the sounds. His teeth gritting on the metal of his dog tag. Throwing his head back and tightening his grip on the plywood, he fights to stay in the game.

The first few rolls of your hips are controlled and almost without the sound of flesh on flesh. Careful not to make much of a commotion. Careful not to break the plywood. Careful not to let emotions get the better of you.

But seeing Tom like this. Feeling him. It's all too much too quickly. That short hair. Sharp jawline. Whimpering sounds. The way the muscles in his arms strain and his abs flex and relax. The sway of his muscled chest ebbing to your pounding thrusts. It's a build-up that finds a release faster and faster.

You've been stationed with Tom for months. Both of you leading a squad of your own. Luckily. You couldn't really pinpoint how it started. How the love manifested in the first place. Was it the shared training? That talk on the plane? That firefight? The dinner talks? Somehow you managed to find each other. Talk and enjoy each other's company. Or was it the lack of girls around? Tom assured you it wasn't. Taking every ounce of doubt you had with a kiss you'd never known you wanted.

It didn't make it easier. Because you simply couldn't work together. You only had eyes for one another. Especially in an environment where danger lurks around each and every corner. That dreaded feeling when a squad went out for patrol. For some of them, it might be their last. And Tom thought the same. The grueling long hours of waiting for them to return. Hearing sounds in the distance. It gets to you.

But the happiness of seeing him return. It's unmatched. Bloodied and bruised. It didn't matter. He's alive. You wanted to jump in one's arms. Celebrate life. But you couldn't. A nod had to suffice.

The others didn't know. And you wanted to keep it that way. It wasn't healthy in the least. Some days, you avoided each other like the plague. Differentiate your breaks as much as possible. But once in a while… you needed each other—more than ever.

"You're gonna make me cum..." Tom breathed out. He shook and losing part of his balance. His one arm snapped onto his bouncing cock. Jerking fervently along his length. Grunting and gasping for air. His dog tag sliding back on the chain. You feel him tighten around you—all in a matter of seconds. Tom shuddered in your hold as you try to keep him balanced. Angling his hardened cock onto his stomach as he felt the wave surge.

Cum is hard to clean. It's sticky and leaves a weird residue on most surfaces. Tom knew, when aroused, he could shoot quite the load. Even more so when it's been weeks. Shooting in arches even artillery specialists could learn from. One final rub of his fingers on his cockhead and his balls did the rest. You hold him. Keep him steady. With your cock sheathed deep into him. You watch him shoot his load. Splattering his abs with unfathomed speeds and intervals. Covering his abs and curves in bursts of cum.

"C'mere… baby." He commandeered with a shaken voice. Tom feeling your climax and understanding the need of you pulling out of him. You simply couldn't finish inside of him. But that was easier said than done.

Tom, still recovering from his climax, trembles shaking his frame and muscles weakened by the ecstasy. He helps you pull out, feeling the urgency of helping you with your climax. Your knees already weak, and your hands shaking. You push Tom down as soon as he has his feet to the floor. Forcing him down the plywood plank, ass on the floor. You manage to take a small step forward, one hand of your cock. The other reaching for plywood, holding on for support. Salvation at hand. You try to aim, but thankfully Tom helps.

Warm, wet lips envelop your pulsing length. Tom takes no chances to let you spill any on the floor or on walls. Helping you climax with the help of his mouth and an unexpected finger up your ass. In reflex, you arch forward to the towel in range of you. And clench your teeth down hard on the towel. Desperate to drown out your groan of pleasure. Your knees begin to buckle, and you hear Tom struggle. Gurgling as you length pushed further into the back of his mouth. Almost down his throat. Tom had worked a finger between your asscheeks and pushed deep into your hole. Drilling at your insides. Making you close to spasming out of pure bliss. Forcing you to shoot your load down his throat.

Your vision is hazy and so in your mind. You're barely able to breathe. And nor could Tom. Holding on for dear life on the plywood wall. But you manage to regain your footing. Pulling your length from his throat. A rough cough and wheeze followed, suppressed by him shielding his mouth with his arm. Making sure to wipe away any saliva and more.

Tom sits there on the floor, the water from the shower falling in between his legs. You watch him as you catch your breath. Leaning with both arms crossed on that half wall of plywood. Tom coughing the last bit of wetness from his throat. You comb your fingers through his short hairs. A bit roughly. But he likes it that way. Letting his head follow with the force of your hand. Hanging back against the wall. Seeing his muscled chest rise and fall. A smile out of thousands. It's precious. Eyes that make you flutter. "Almost a minute." You wink. "That was really quick."

"It's been too long." He smirks. With no time to waste, you hunch down in front of him and pull him into the waterfall of the shower. Letting your lips reunite as the warm water washes away the sweat from your exhausted bodies. Giggles go back and forth in relative quiet, giving him a helping hand with cleaning the cum from his stomach and abs.

Something as simple as that, yet loaded with sexual tension in that moment. Simple strokes of your fingers, guided by his hand. Helping him clean. You have to stop yourself from going further. And so does Tom. Seeing your cocks harden within seconds. In the end, it's a necessary clean-up. No evidence. Making sure it does run down the drain. No traces.

Blood on the other hand became a normality. The sight of it doesn't scare you anymore. Seeing trials of thinned-down blood collect in the drain. "Don't worry…" Tom assures you as you observe the whirls of water mixing together before disappearing into the drain. "Old wounds. See?" Turning his torso to the side and showing you cuts and bruises on his back.

"You got a new one." You murmur, running your finger along the cut. It's long and not that deep. But bleeds slowly.

He looks over his shoulder, following your finger. "That's from just now." He beams. "I'm wearing that one proudly." Kissing you as you let that sink in. Slowly starting to get on his knees, ready to go.

"Promise me-..." The air stocks in your throat. And try to blink away the tears welling in your eyes. "T-Tom…" You whisper with a trembling voice, trying to get his attention again as you both rise to your feet. Knowing the moment is there. Tom not letting one moment go by without his lips praising you. Small kisses peppered across your skin. No pattern. No hickeys. Just adoration and love.

With one hand, he reaches for the back of your head, placing his forehead against yours. "Listen to me, (Y/N)." He says staring deep into your eyes. "You have to stay strong. We're almost done here. Just a little bit more..."

"I know." You sigh. "I know…"

"Please stay safe, darling." He whispers. The words burn into your very soul. His kindness and caring nature. It's impossible to keep the tears from rolling. "I know you can do it." Patting your cheek. "Please do…" Rubbing the first tears from your eyes. "Cause I heard your boys talking about how reckless you've been lately."

"I will…" You nod. And kiss him goodbye. "Now go." Slapping him on the ass. "Go before they start noticing anything." Pushing him out of the cubicle.

"Promise me, (Y/N)." He veered back. "I wanna bring you back in one piece. Alive."

"I promise." And you can't help but smile.

"Good, cause my parents are dying to meet you..." Kissing you back before storming out of your cubicle. Taking his towel and closing his shower. "I've told them all about you." He winks. Leaving you all in awe. And a reprimand for showering too long.

#tom holland x male reader #tom holland x male!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland male reader #tom holland male!reader #male!reader #male reader #male reader imagine #mxm #smut #male reader smut

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kuma829 · 2 years

Text

Souma FS 4 Star- The Road to Harmony is just a Step Away

What… You were running up and down for the likes of me? I must give my most sincerest of apologies…

Cast: Souma, Adonis, Madara, Kanata

Author: Yuumasu

Season: Spring

Kanata: souma, you’re here, aren’t you~?

Souma: Were you searching for me? You are aware that if you were to call for me, I would come to your side no matter the situation?

Speaking of which, just the other day Kiryuu-dono taught me how to effectively make use of the “HoldHands” social networking system.

Alas, I cannot use all the functions there is to offer, for there are far too many of them to wrap my head around. However, for the time being I have learned how to make contact with you, whether it be by call or sending a text, I am well equipped ♪

Kanata: i’m no good at “electronic devices,” but you’re doing nicely, aren’t you~? good boy, good boy ♪

but, i wasn’t here to be told about “holdhands.” it seems like we’ve “swam” away from our destination, so let us “fix” that.

actually, that was why i was searching you down with my own “feet.” i want to ask you something.

would you like to join “oceans,” souma?

Souma: “Oceans?”

Kanata: do you understand “circles?” it’s the thing they were “discussing” during “orientation.”

Souma: That one, it was unusually short compared to the other sermons they held. I do remember that.

Perchance, are you asking me if I would join you in your endeavours at the “Oceans Circle?”

Kanata: that’s right. it’s a “circle” where we have a lot of contact with “sea creatures.”

to invite you to the “sea creatures club,” would only be natural, right? so, will you say yes?

Souma: It is at the request of none other than the one and only esteemed Shinkai-dono, I simply could never refuse.

It is alright with me, so please allow me to be a member of “oceans ♪”

Kanata: thank you very much. i was hoping you would say yes ♪

when i gather all the “members,” i will contact you~

in that case, i’ll be off to find kaoru, hm?

Souma: Mhm, be safe on your way.

(The purpose of the club is to interact with marine life, yes? With Hakaze-dono joining in as well, it is as if the former marine biology club has been reunited.)

(I remember feeling lonely when they graduated, as if the clubroom had grown wider. I hope we can be together in the form of this “circle.”)

(“Circles,” huh? There is a rumour in the air, that there is a group full of sweet lovers who gather around in search of “power spots” to satisfy their tongues.)

(Hasumi-dono did say that, “you can do as you wish, do not feel confined to what you can and cannot do, so establish these groups freely.”)

(In that case, what type of club should I try to launch ♪?)

Souma: (...And done. Now all I must do is wait. Hmm, standing here I notice many of the “circles” have put up brand new “posters.”

My “poster,” which I only wrote with a ink and brush, seems to catch the eye in comparison to the others ♪

Madara: —Hoho? Look who it is, Souma-san, isn’t it?

This poster over here, it’s done by Souma-san, right? It’s a masterpiece, the craftsmanship is impeccable! Well done, well done ♪

Hmm, “Japanese Culture Lovers United?” What exactly do you do there?

Souma: To be blunt, it is just as it says. A group who want to show their love for all that Japanese culture has to offer.

Madara: Hahaha! “All” of it? My, Souma-san, I didn’t realise you were that greeeedy!

But, I like the energy you’ve got. Add me to it ♪

Souma: Oh, so you will join my “Circle?”

Madara: When I’m out travelling the world, I get asked about Japan all the timeee! If I can get some insight about some culture here and there, it would help me when I’m in a pinch.

But, I don’t think I can come in a lot because of my job… Is that okay with you?

Souma: Mhm, you are more than welcome to! Let us love Japanese culture together!

(As soon as I put up my “poster,” a friend joined me. It is good that I seem to be on a lucky start.)

(Perhaps, if this keeps up… Reaching 100 “members” may not just be a pipe dream ♪)

Souma: (—No…)

(No one, not one person at all, is here…!)

(Since there are two people in this group, we meet the requirements for the application, but… Mikejima-dono is busy and is seldom unavailable to come in today.)

Souma: (Today, I stand by my lonesome. Is it still okay to call this type of situation a “Circle” activity?)

(From an outsider’s perspective, is this not just a one man show?)

Adonis: —Kanzaki.

Souma: Huh—Adonisu-dono? Is there something the matter?

Adonis: I was searching for you this whole time, you had me seriously worried.

Actually, I’ve been watching from afar, not knowing if I should intervene in the dark clouds surrounding your head for the past few days. However, it seems your sighs grew more tired as more time passed.

As your friend, I just couldn’t be a bystander anymore, so I went around visiting places you would potentially go to ask about your whereabouts, Kanzaki.

Souma: What… You were running up and down for the likes of me? I must give my most sincerest of apologies…

Adonis: It’s no problem for me. We’re friends, remember?

It took a while, but I finally caught up to you to talk. So, what’s bothering you?

Souma: Actually… Erm, whose name do you see listed on the door besides Mikejima-dono for the “Japanese Culture Lovers United?”

Adonis: “Japanese Culture Lovers United?” I could have sworn I saw that somewhere before…

Souma: It is the “Circle” I established. Perhaps the place you saw it before was the main lobby?

Adonis: …Ah. That poster must’ve been made by Kanzaki then?

When I saw it plastered on the board with all the other Circle posters, I couldn't really read it. I wondered 'why would such a work of art be in the middle of all the others?' The characters were drawn just so beautifully… I’m convinced.

“Japanese Culture Lovers United,” right? That’s just like you, isn’t it? Alright, let me in too.

Souma: Are you certain?

Adonis: Mhm. Kanzaki, seeing your eyes all upset like that… It pains me to see.

In any case, er… What exactly do we do in this circle?

Souma: Well, I wished to make it a gathering of people who would love all things associated with Japanese culture. As I wrote on the “poster,” this “circle” would partake in various activities such as tea ceremonies, flower arrangements, martial arts, and all things that have to do with the “teachings,” of Japanese culture.

Adonis: Hm… I don’t know much about any of those things, so mastering them all is going to be tough.

Others may also find it difficult to join in on the activities because of the high difficulty curve.

Souma: Hmm… I failed to realise that perspective. Actually, Mikejima-dono had asked something similar, so I thought I would add some details but it seems to have had the opposite effect than what I intended.

Difficulty… Hmm.. The most accessible option must be the tea holding ceremony?

For the time being, the main attraction is holding tea ceremonies, and then gradually we can expand our horizons to appreciate more Japanese culture.

Adonis: Mhm. I also love tea.

…Instead of just waiting around, why not we do some recruiting, how’s that sound?

If we were to hold a tea party in the common room it would be effective, plus the tea you make is extremely delicious.

Souma: Oooh, you are a genius!

Ideas that I did not consider… Of course, having a friend like you is a great blessing in one’s life ♪

Souma: Adonisu-dono, let us place our faith in the fragrance of tea, for it will lead friends to us! Let us go!

*Kaori is the word for fragrance in Japanese, this circle is officially known as the Kaori Tea Party Circle, and that’s because of the fragrance of tea that would lead friends to the circle! Cute.

#idol story #souma kanzaki #adonis otogari #kanata shinkai #madara mikejima

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Title: Frigid.

Pairing: Yandere!Rosaria/Reader (Genshin Impact).

Word Count: 2.5k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Modern AU, Non-Con, Semi-Public Sex, Drug Use, Toxic Relationships, Victim-Blaming, Implied Past Assult, Dissociation.

Touching Rosaria was like touching ice.

Or, like having ice touch you, at least. She didn’t like it when you touched her – if she did, she wouldn’t have her hand clamped around your wrist, right now, there wouldn’t be a chill washing over your skin, inching towards your chest, making your heart beat a little faster every time the threat of frostbite began to seem more like a strong possibility than a distant fantasy. It was jarring, really, compared to the heat of the bodies around you, dancing and moving and sweltering, despite how crowded the club felt, despite how much you wished they would stop. You’d been the one who wanted to come, you were the one who usually liked this kind of thing, but suddenly, the music was too loud, everyone was too close, you could still feel your last drink burning at the back of your throat. It was all too much. It was all too hot.

Except Rosaria, of course. Never Rosaria.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt warm, around her.

She was sticking close to the walls, thankfully. You were glad you’d chosen a smaller club, easier for Rosaria to navigate as she dragged you across the cramped space. It was too dark to see where she was going, darker than it usually was, but you didn’t mind letting her pull you along. You were used to it, the graceless way she pushed through couples and groups and inebriated patrons, the quiet apologies you let out as you followed her, how easy your own feet were to trip over as the bright, flashing lights and the sour flavor coating your tongue made it more and more difficult to think. It was almost a relief when she found what she was looking for – the side exit, the one you liked to use whenever you got too overwhelmed. It was sweet that she’d thought to use it tonight, too, even if you couldn’t remember telling her about your little escape route.

The alleyway it opened into was narrow, just as dark and just as stifling as the club, but the music wasn’t as loud, the air wasn’t as choking, and more importantly, you were able to collapse into Rosaria, burying your head in your chest as she caught you by the shoulders, begrudgingly accepting your clumsy affection. She didn’t like being touched, but you really liked touching her. It made sense that she’d make an exception for you, in the moment, at least. She always made an exception for you.

“Rosey,” You started, slurring the nickname into something near-incomprehensible. There was a tap to your shoulder, a row of blunt nails skirting across bare skin. In the back of your mind, you wondered if she was mad at you. “I can’t… It’s too warm, Rosey. My head hurts.”

“Obviously.” Her tone was lighter than it usually was, more playful. Not quite patient, not yet, but more sympathetic than she usually bothered to be. Like she was talking to a child, rather than a friend. Like the two of you hadn’t already done this a hundred times. “You overdid it, princess. You’re drunk.”

You shook your head, absent-mindedly. You didn’t feel drunk. You felt… dizzy. Out of it. Disoriented in such a way that meant trying to find out why you were struggling to keep your balance only made you more likely to fall. “You had more than I did,” You mumbled, because it was true. You knew how Rosaria could be. You’d wanted to be good, tonight, even if she claimed to be content nursing her third glass of wine. “’s not fair. I’m don’t even feel that—”

“You’re always so careless, too,” She said, cutting you off. Speaking over you, like you’d never said anything at all. Her grip tightened, and you backed away, pressing yourself against the nearest wall. Rosaria didn’t let go. “Drinking so much, staying out so late… It’s a miracle you haven’t learned your lesson, yet. I’m a little surprised no one’s ever taken advantage of you.”

Your heart dropped in your chest. The wall was unpainted, uneven, bare cement and little else. It hurt to touch, to lean against, especially with Rosaria resting her weight on you. It hurt to move, when you finally thought to fidget. “You're being mean,” You whispered, and her hand fell to your hip. Your dress was too thin, too tight. It felt like you were bleeding out in a snowbank. “Would someone really do that?”

“I would.” She was too close. She was too cold. You didn’t find the constant chill comforting, anymore. “In a heartbeat. Especially after you start acting like such a fucking tease.”

You wanted to go home. There was something pounding in the back of your skull, now, throbbing, blocking out whatever Rosaria might’ve said, making it impossible to process anything but the black dots fraying at the edges of your vision and Rosaria’s lips, chapped and painted red and on your neck, the corner of your jaw, only lingering for a moment before her teeth dug into your jugular and you screamed, the shrill sound immediately cut short by a palm against your mouth, keeping you quiet despite the little whimpers you let out as she pulled back, allowing something warm to run over your skin and pool near your collarbone. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it would get on your dress, if it would leave a stain. You wondered if she would apologize, when it did.

“Spoiled little brat,” She growled, nearly under her breath. Her grip loosened, Rosaria shifting, but any reprieve was short-lived, quickly replaced by two fingers pressed into your tongue and a row of nails clawing at your waist, pulling at your skirt, leaving you to gag and whimper as ice-cold fingertips dug into your thigh, cold enough to leave you trembling. She wasn’t holding you, not really, not tightly enough to call it restraint, but your body felt weak, your legs were shaking, and you couldn’t imagine trying to run. You couldn’t imagine trying to stand. You were almost thankful for the knee she forced between your thighs, for the trace of stability she thought to offer. You wanted to be thankful. You were trying to be thankful. “No talking, alright? I need you to keep quiet. Can you do that for me?”

Right. Obviously. Rosaria was so smart. She always knew what to do, so she must’ve been right, and she was so kind, too, letting her fingers slip out of your mouth as soon as you offered her the small, eager nod she was looking for. You were glad she was wearing leather, a jacket a size too big and pants that clung to her like a second skin – it gave you something tangible to hold onto, something to hide your face in, even if you hated the texture, the sound, the way it felt under you as she cupped your pussy and some thin piece of fabric tore, forcing you to shy into her just a little more. You almost asked why. If she didn't like your dress, she could’ve just told you. If she didn’t like you, she could’ve said so in a way that didn’t make you feel so…

So bad.

“You said you were hot.” Rosaria was talking before you could, though, explaining herself. Why was she allowed to talk? Part of you wavered, flickered, realized that she wasn’t being fair, that she wasn’t being nice, but Rosaria was good at this kind of thing. She must’ve known something you didn’t. That’d make sense. She knew a lot of stuff, compared to the handful of foggy ideas that separated your mind from total oblivion. “I’m just helping you out. You’re not stupid enough to turn down help, are you?”

You shook your head. You weren’t, even if she chuckled at your meek response, even if you couldn’t see how grinding her hand into your cunt could help you feel anything but hot, like you’d been in the sun for an hour too long. Like you were being burnt alive, and Rosaria was the one stoking the flames.

Your thoughts were spinning, now, twisting, spiraling, the need to shut your eyes and make it stop almost overshadowing the slick building up between your legs, that awful, sticky feeling that made you squirm, holding Rosaria tighter and attempting to weakly push her away at the same time. The embarrassment was palpable, that nagging sense of shame, only made worse by Rosaria’s huff of a laugh, by the lingering sensation of her teeth ghosting over your skin and the way you jolted into her, anything intelligent you might’ve said replaced by a small, submissive whimper. It was embarrassing. You wanted it to stop. You wanted her to stop.

But, she didn’t. She wouldn't. You couldn't force her to.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask.

It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like much of anything, honestly, as her fingers slipped below the black lace of your panties, as she toyed with your clit and drank in those pathetic sounds you might’ve thought someone else was making, if your own voice hadn’t been so recognizable. Your body was too numb, your nerves already too burnt, Rosaria’s chest too cold where it pressed against yours, like your life depended on little more than ice and sleet. It didn’t feel good, but your face must’ve been flushed, your pupils blown out, your scrunched expression littered with hints that you were in anything but agony. Rosaria sounded smug. She wouldn’t sound like that, not unless you gave her a reason to. She wouldn’t do that to you, not unless she thought you deserved it.

“For fuck’s sake,” She drawled, slowly, like she didn’t have anywhere better to be. She didn’t have anywhere better to be. She wouldn’t have bothered to spend time with you, otherwise. “You’re already so damn wet. If I’d known you’d be this needy, I wouldn't have bothered with the fucking pills.”

You opened your mouth, but you were barely able to get out a strangled cry before something was inside of you, your panties pushed to the side and two long fingers scissoring you open, too quickly, too suddenly, too violently. It was like she’d broken a dam, like some necessary barrier had been crossed and crushed, like everything you’d lacked, earlier, everything your mind had been merciful enough to block out came flooding in for the first time. There was the sting, tight and tearing and impatient, but there was pleasure, too, something beyond awareness, something beyond discomfort. It was a fire, smoldering and invasive, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t like the way your hips bucked to meet her hand, or the new weight behind your eyes, or her smirk, her smile, her self-satisfied sneer. You didn’t like that she was happy. You didn’t like that you were in pain, and she was happy. If you were being honest with yourself, you might’ve been able to admit you didn’t like Rosaria at all, right now.

“S-Stop, Rosey, it hurts—” She had a pattern, now, a tangible pace, a vengeance you wished you'd never provoked. She must’ve hated you. She must’ve. You couldn’t think of another reason she’d curl her fingers like that, another reason she’d abuse every sensitive spot that made you whine and tremble and tense-up, another reason she’d be so mean, especially to you, especially now, especially here. It wouldn’t even matter if you made noise, if you cried out, if you screamed. It couldn’t be louder than your rapid heartbeat, your racing pulse, the wet clicks that only got worse as Rosaria slipped a third finger in and left you to clench around her, too humiliated to care about the slight pain. “Please, I don’t wanna—”

“What did I say about talking?” She was being cold again, ruthless, but it was a playful sort of cruelness, her tone just lilted enough to make you feel guilty for trying to convince yourself she was such a monster. “You don’t want to what? Sit pretty and let me do all the work? Stand there and cum?” There was a laugh, a flick of her wrist, and the heel of her hand came up to grind against your clit. Instantly, you wished you’d never said anything at all. “Do it. Make yourself useful, for once. Cum.”

You didn’t want to. You really, really, really didn’t want to, but there was nothing you could do to stave it off, to get away from it, to keep your knees from buckling or your body from going rigid or Rosaria from kissing you, stifling the breathy moan that threatened to spill out between choked sobs and quiet pleas for her to stop. At least she was gentle about it, as gentle as she could be, pointed canines barely cutting at your lips, a cloud of lingering cigarette smoke barely choking you, her touch barely forceful enough to bruise, as she cupped your cheek with her free hand, tilting your head back and encouraging you to lean into the gesture.

It was almost sweet, how she lingered, how she didn’t pull away until after the aftershocks had faded, until you’d stopped trying to resist, until you were too tired to do anything but collapse into her when she let you go, catching you the moment you threatened to fold into yourself. It was a small mercy. You didn’t want to spend the rest of the night on the ground, sobbing yourself to sleep in some dark, claustrophobic alley. You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t want to be here.

You just wanted to be with Rosaria. You just wanted to be anywhere else, with her.

“Rosey,” you tried, testing the waters. You tried to blink, to stand up on your own, but your eyelids felt heavy, you felt heavy. Rosaria only hummed, in response, snaking an arm around your waist. Already, you were struggling to remember why you couldn’t stand. You were struggling to remember why it hurt so much, when you tried to. “I… I’m not having fun, anymore. Can we go home?”

“You’re lucky I like you, princess.” You were. She was such a good friend, and she always came out drinking with you, and she always took care of you the day afterward, too, when you were sore and hungover and, more often than not, too bruised and battered to get out of bed. Even if the kiss she pressed into the top of your head made you shiver, even if the ghost of her icy breath made your skin crawl, even if a part of you was still begging to keep her at a distance, you were lucky to have her. You were thankful you had her, thankful enough to ignore how low her hands dipped as she held you up, thankful enough to stop yourself from thinking about the slick dripping down your thighs, and the cut on the side of your neck, and the chalk coating your tongue, tasteless and unremarkable, but not completely unfamiliar.

Thankful enough to look up at her and smile, as she finally sapped away the last of your warmth.

“Let’s go home.”

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere prompts #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oneshot #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #yandere rosaria #rosaria x reader #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #yanderecore #yancore

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused (S1: 2/?)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

Warnings: mild langage

Word Count: 2k

Part Summary: After Steve spends the night at Y/N Jonathan Byers accuses Y/N of getting too close to her best friend’s boyfriend

Masterlist

I wake up to a banging on my door. It sounds like an uncontrollable jackhammer.

“Y/N! Oh Princess Y/N!” My mom screeches on the other side. “Wake up! You have to pick up Dustin in thirty minutes!”

The last bit grabs my attention. My eyes fly open and I attempt to sit up but I’m pinned down. My head whips to the side and Steve is sound asleep next to me. His arm is draped across my stomach keeping me pinned. In a rush, I shove him off of me and fly out of bed. Steve wakes up abruptly and falls off the mattress onto the floor with a thud.

“Shit!” He blurts out.

“What was that?” My mom asks worriedly.

Wide-eyed, I stare down Steve who peers up at me from the floor.

“I’m just getting ready! I’ll be out in five!” I shout to my little brother.

Thankfully, I hear him patter off as he grumbles various curse words under his breath.

I must look like a crazy lady as I run around my room getting ready. My hair is going in a ponytail today because there’s no way I have time to style it. Steve moves about me, collecting his things. It’s Friday so that makes picking out an outfit rather easy. It’s game day, so cheer uniform. I start changing from my pajamas into my cheer uniform. I hop on one leg as I remove my shorts and rush to grab my skirt off my dresser. As I slip off my t-shirt and change into my vest, I check my appearance in the mirror on my dresser.

Behind me, Steve eyes me curiously. He appears in some sort of wide-eyed daze.

I whip my head around to check on him. “You okay?”

He hums absentmindedly. Then, he shakes his head repeatedly to snap how of it. “Yeah! Uh… it’s just… um… you…” he stammers, “uh…. Nevermind! I’ll see you in a little bit,” he says as he goes to climb out of my window.

“Okay? Catch ya later.” I laugh, wondering why he’s acting so odd.

He’s such a goofball. I wonder if it’s because I freaked him out when I woke him up. Oh well, he scared me last night so karma.

________________________________________

Once we arrive at school, Dustin runs off to join the boys who have all agreed to dress as the Ghostbusters for school. Since the Demogorgon incident, Dustin and I have grown closer. We live on the same block and being only children help.

Nancy isn’t at her locker when I arrive at my own, odd. What’s even weirder is Jonathan is waiting for me.

“Hey,” I greet him with a raised brow.

It’s not that I dislike Jonathan, we’re simply not close friends. Sure, we had a bonding experience last year but he and I are very different people.

“Hey,” he stuffs his hands into his back pockets nervously. “Have you… uh… have you seen Nancy?”

Interesting, Byers looking for Nancy. If this were any other day she would be here beside me and I wouldn’t be standing here with Jonathan but apparently, today isn’t going to be average.

“Nope, I haven’t. I was wondering where she is myself. Usually, she’d be here by now,” I fill him in on the lastest as I put the combination into my locker.

“Well if you see here will you tell her I have something for her?” He requests.

“Is it your love confession?” I tease.

“Huh?” He acts oblivious to what I mean.

“Oh please, it’s clear as day you have a thing for Nance," I snicker as I pull out my books. "I’ve known since Steve and I showed up at your house last year.” I glance over my shoulder at him and it’s evident I’ve spooked him. My bluntness tends to have that effect on people. "Look,” I say gently and quietly between us. “I won’t say anything. I understand that she’s with Steve. So, you feel like there’s no point but it’s important to say how you feel and be honest.”

"Just like how you’re honest with Steve about having a thing for him?” He boldly fires back.

I scoff, he’s delusional! Me and Steve, really? There’s no way! I laugh, “I don’t have a-”

“Really? Yesterday in the gym?” He challenges.

His question, more like a threat, takes me by surprise. What, so Jonathan is watching me now? He’s eavesdropping on my conversations?

“How about over the summer?” He presses further, stepping closer until he towers over me. “You two were together more than he and Nancy ever were! How about this morning when I was on my way to school and saw him climbing out of your window? Hm? How about that?”

Okay, now I’m just getting pissed. “I can assure you, Steve loves Nancy!” I growl. “There’s is nothing, and I mean nothing, between us! Now I suggest you stop acting like a tough guy before I remind you who really holds all the power here,” I threaten him.

He forgets that I’m the captain of the cheer squad. I’m adored around here. He’s some punk who hangs out all day in the photography classroom. If he really wishes to test me, I can promise I will win. I always win.

“Fine then…” he mutters, mere inches from my face. “But remember, I could easily tell Nancy about last summer.”

He steps back with narrowed eyes locked on me until he turns around to slip away. I watch, stunned, as he disappears into the cluster of students traveling about the hall. A bit disturbed, to say the least, I lean back against the lockers to catch my breath.

I don’t like Steve, that’s crazy! Steve… Steve and I… we’re just friends, really good friends, best of friends! Jonathan is psychotic and tossing out random ideas to get a rise out of me. All we did was hang out over the summer! He was already dating Nancy, my oldest friend! I would never ever betray her like that! Screw Byers.

________________________

After last period, I return to my locker to pack up my homework. As I’m packing up my stuff, Nancy pops up next to me all distraught. She’s shaky and appears frightened, the same way she did when fighting the Demogorgon.

“Nance? Nancy, what’s wrong? What happened?” I ask her repeatedly, already worried.

She scans the area, making sure no one is watching us. Swiftly, she pulls into the girls bathroom.

I stumble inside, immediately checking the stalls to make sure we’re alone. Once I determine the coast is clear, I spin around to face her.

Her arms are wrapped around her tightly like a blanket. She swallows hard, her glazed eyes meet mine in fear. “I saw Barb!” She whispers as though she’ll be struck for doing so.

That’s impossible. We left Barb in the Upside Down. She’s gone. She’s dead.

“You what?” I shake my head in disbelief, pacing away from her.

“In the library!” She explains, "I saw her! She called out for us! She said this wasn’t me! She said you were hiding! Pretending!”

Now frightened, I whip my head around to face her directly. I note the hint of hope in her eyes that’s overpowered by guilt. I mourned Barb. We all did. I’m sorry for her parents, I am truly, but everyone is right! There’s nothing we can do! What’s done is done! All we can do is move on and live our lives!

I refuse to relive the endless guilt, depression, and anxiety that consumed me for months on end. I felt like a shell of a human for almost a year after what happened. I can’t do this.

“I have to go to drive Dustin home,” I announce.

Quickly, I cross the room toward the door. I have to get out of here. This is nonsense.

Nancy grabs my wrist before I pass her, “But Y/N-”

I yank my arm free from her grip, “goodbye Nancy!”

Shaken for the second time today, I storm out of the bathroom and hurry toward the exit. I grip the handle of my purse, unable to control my shaky hands. Tears coat my eyes and threaten to slip down my cheeks.

Flashbacks of that horrid night take over my train of thought. I see it clear as day. All of the blood, the sting from my arm, the pressure of that monster pinning me down. Everything I’ve been suppressing demands to be felt again. I’m living in my own personal Hell.

As I push through the doors to the parking lot, the bright sunlight blinds me for a second. People cluster outside the school in their cliques. I weave between them, eager to get to my car and fly home. I can’t allow anyone to see me like this. I’m the strong one. I have my life together. I can’t break.

In the distance, Dustin leans against the passenger door waiting for me. I keep telling myself that I’m almost there, just a couple of steps more.

“Y/N-” Someone grabs my shoulder to stop me.

Caught off guard and already distraught, I gasp and my bag slips from my shoulder to the pavement.

I peer up to see Steve eyeing me with such compassion that I nearly slip and start sobbing. I wish I could tell him everything zooming through my mind but I can’t, it’s not his burden to bear.

Urgently, he gathers my bag off the ground and places it on my shoulder. His hand lingers on my forearm, rubbing up and down comfortingly. I attempt to hide my shakiness by crossing my arms tightly.

“You’re upset,” he states the obvious but I know he means well. “Are you alright?”

I hum, nodding my head repeatedly. If I attempt to speak my voice may crack and then he’ll never let me go. Please Steve, I understand that you’re checking on me and I know you truly care but please let me go.

“What is it?” He scrunches his eyebrows as he shifts on his heels. “Is it about Nancy? She was speaking about Barb earlier. Did she confront you about it? If it is I-”

“Y/N!” Dustin shouts over to us impatiently.

For once, I won’t argue with him about interrupting me. “I have to go,” I mumble under my breath and rush off before Steve has the chance to object.

Once I’m a few feet away from Dustin, he notices my state and instantly climbs into the car without any questions.

After I toss my bag into the backseat and move up front, I take a moment to gather myself and blast some music before I start driving.

“Shitty day?” Dustin finally breaks the silence.

Rubbing my temples, I snicker, “to put it simply.”

He sighs, “Yeah, me too. First, all of the little assholes at school decide not to dress up this year. My guess is they all formed a pact and kept us out of it. It was all pretty embarrassing. Then, there’s this new girl, Max, smoking’ hot, but thinks she’s cooler than everyone else. Lucas likes her too… We followed her around for a little bit but then… well shit… she was onto us. Do you wanna talk about your day?” He offers to listen.

I shake my head and open my eyes. Exhaling deeply, I grip the wheel and prepare to go. “No, because if I do then it will lead down a dark road that I don’t wish to travel ever again.”

Dustin respects my silence and he talks most of the way home. I appreciate him not forcing me to speak about the horrors of today. Right now, I much rather listen and be distracted. Today was one of the worst days I’ve had in a while. At least tonight is the party. I could really use some mindless fun, risky shenanigans, and most importantly, booze.

________________________________

Masterlist

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things image #stranger things

135 notes · View notes

personasintro · 4 years

Text

sucker (m.) | pjm

❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

❥𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut, angst, vampire au, horror au (?), vampire!jimin x human!reader, supernatural au

❥𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: explicit language, smut; slight biting, oral sex [man receiving], fingering, penetration, unprotected & rough sex, slight dom!jimin, death & mentions of death, blood, mentions of alcohol

❥𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 10.9k+

𝒂/𝒏: I got this story idea after halloween and this is the first time I've written a vampire au, so I really hope you'll like it, this is something new for me but was so much fun to write!! banner by @dee-ehn (thank you luv, you did an amazing job!!)

𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | © 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒐 (𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅)

Frat parties aren’t usually Jimin’s go-to place but considering the sudden circumstances, he had to agree and couldn't say no to his friend who had chosen the most overcrowded party. In other cases, Jimin would’ve chosen somewhere less crowded but enough to blend with his surroundings. Although, Taehyung deserves a few points for thinking this out considering today’s theme is Halloween. There’s no need to hide anything, especially their appearance that still doesn’t seem as weird as people dressed as pumpkin and other weird costumes. Just as a young male passes by, obviously dressed as Dracula while wearing a cheap cape, his friend snorts under his breath but Jimin can hear him perfectly.

“Horrendous,” Taehyung comments, scoffing at the guy that’s too preoccupied with a girl clinging to his side dressed as something both of them can’t recognize. “Let’s go, I’m hungry.” he grins, licking his bottom lip before they make their way into the huge house full of drunk people.

It’ll be hard to find someone sober or not drunk enough, Jimin thinks while his eyes scan the entire room.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung slaps his hands over Jimin’s shoulders while he clutches them but his friend barely reacts, already used to Taehyung's rough hands and strength. “Try to have fun.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, still looking around to map out the whole room almost as if he’s waiting for something to happen. He knows nothing will, none of these people are ready for tonight and are completely clueless. Sometimes, he wonders how it’d feel like to just let loose and drink alcohol like every other person here. Loud rap music boosts against the walls, barely good enough music to dance to, but it seems nobody cares about that and dance no matter how ridiculous they look. A group of young girls pass by them, one in particular eyeing Taehyung as she winks at him, giving him a hint that even she doesn’t know about.

“Well, that’s my cue,” Taehyung grins, slapping Jimin’s shoulder with enthusiasm from receiving attention even though he barely came in. “Two hours?” he asks, slowly backing away from Jimin’s figure who responds with a short but firm nod.

Sighing, with Taehyung no longer in sight, he forces his legs to move through the crowd which is just bunch of drunk college students. It’s hard to blend, especially if he’s the only one sober out of everyone. He walks through the house, not particularly knowing where he’s going since he has no idea where he is. This is his first time here — probably last too. They never come back, not even once. They always just move on and plan things together, with Taehyung. Somehow, his legs lead him to a kitchen, less preoccupied room with an exception since there are still some people sucking their mouths off. Jimin’s nose scrunches in a slight disgust at the smell of alcohol, knowing that it’s just the picky side of him.

Taehyung had been in charge of tonight’s plans, it makes sense this plan sucks. Jimin doesn’t like it here but it’ll have to do. His sharp eyes dance across the room, nose softly sniffling as a sweet scent fills it and then he sees something. Something that looks much more interesting than anything he could’ve seen here so far.

You.

In other scenarios, you’d probably spend your Friday night differently than in a frat house full of people you don’t know. That wouldn’t even be such a bad thing, if your friend didn’t bail on you because her ex wanted to talk. You’re not mad, you’re just annoyed that you’ve been standing here for the past fifteen minutes watching couples make out, while third guy tried flirt with you. May you add, completely wasted where you could smell the alcohol on their breath. That’s enough to make you not interested and disgusted at the same time. When another guy dressed like Joker tries to talk to you, you ignore him and tell him to fuck off. You’re not rude, not all the time. But it’s only natural of you to act this way, especially when you let them know you’re not interested and they still keep trying. It’s like it pushes them to be even more eager to try to win you over. Well, you’re not some trophy and drunk enough to do that.

The guy gives you an ugly frown, visibly displeased by your choice of words but luckily he leaves you alone and your heart slowly calms down. You don’t know what drunk men are capable of, but you get the idea. You need to be careful either way. Not drinking any drink from strangers and not provoke anyone who's drunk, even if it’s standing up for yourself. Those are the rules you need to keep reminding yourself, especially in this place where alcohol clouds most people's judgement and mind.

Ah fuck, tonight is supposed to be fun.

“Playing hard to get?”

Your head whips at the soft voice, completely contrasting with the awful music and people’s chattering drunken nonsense. Mouth opening in a mere shock, you’re met with a guy you’ve never seen before which isn’t that weird since you barely know anyone here. But you’d surely remember him, if you ever met him. It’s safe to say, he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and looked your way. His blond hair is parted in the middle, swiped back as this particular hairstyle shows his sharp jaw but soft features. One of the most eye catching features are those thick lips, looking juicy and soft, like two pillows and the most delicious desert. And you can’t fucking believe you’re gushing over some stranger but you’re surely not done yet. His eyes are sharp and there’s a weird glint in them, maybe it's because of the orangey–red shade they hold. Black leather jacket hugs his frame along with, what seems like a casual white shirt underneath, and a great fit black jeans. You wonder what kind of mask he’s wearing, but then he grins at you and shows you his white teeth. Two sharp fangs poke his bottom lip, making you almost jump in surprise but you sigh in relief.

He seems to know you were just checking him out, judging by the slight smirk he’s trying to hide while he makes his way over to you.

“Just not interested.” you reply, deciding it’s better to find your own voice rather than to gawk at this sex god.

“I don’t blame you,” he speaks, your eyes flickering to his. There’s something that makes your heart skip a beat, maybe it’s his alluring eyes that seems to know everything. As if he could tell you’re mentally screaming at his hotness. “Young guys can be... very persistent and act upon their hormones.”

You snort, placing a hand over your mouth as you start giggling at his choice of words. “You can say it. They’re just horny and looking for sex.”

He smiles, tracing a tongue over his lower lip as his steps come to a halt just a few inches before you. He looks even more heartbreaking from up close. The lightning is shitty but there’s not an inch of flaw on his soft glass skin, he looks slightly more on the pale side, but that has to be the make up. At least he hadn’t overdid it like you’ve seen some other guys. And those eyes... what kind of lenses are they?

“You’re right, they can be like that.” he agrees, still sporting that secretive smirk adorning both his eyes and lips.

You snicker, causing his brow to raise in a mere confusion. “So, what? You’re not one of them?”

There’s no way such a handsome guy wouldn’t use his charms to get the best out of it. He said it himself, young guys are horny just like most girls. It’s not like you judge him for it, he can do whatever he wants as long as he’s respectful to others and doesn’t cross any boundaries.

“I’m certainly not,” he says, voice lacking of that sweet yet mysterious tone he used before. There’s something that flickers behind his eyes but it’s gone before you can dwell what it really was. “I didn’t come here to have sex.”

You’re surprised by his bluntness, not expecting him being so blunt all of a sudden, especially about that sex part since he basically ran his way around the topic of guys being horny and wanting to have sex. But you like it, even though you can’t bring yourself to grin like you want to, not when he’s staring at you with gaze darkening.

“Why did you come here for then?” you ask quietly, eyes searching for any kind of emotion or something that could give you a better glimpse inside of his mind.

There’s something about him. He’s mysterious, hiding something and you’re sure it’s just a part of his personality. Either way, it makes him even hotter and you’d drop onto your knees for this man. But there’s your dignity in the way and somehow, you’re glad about that. You’re not one to have a meaningless one night stand. Not that he’d probably want or care to have one with you.

It’s getting awkward, the silence between you two as he complements about his answer causing you to play with the hem of your stupid dress that aren’t even yours. But then something clicks inside of him and he smiles.

“To have fun.”

“Good luck with that.” you murmur, sarcasm lacing in your tone because you can’t believe Yeri just went after her ex leaving you ‘socializing’ (as she called it) with total strangers. Drunk strangers.

You don’t expect the hot stranger to hear you, your voice muffled by the loud music mainly, but he does when a deep chuckle erupts past his lips.

“Why’s that?”

“If you didn’t come here to have sex or get drunk, I don’t think you’ll have fun. Look at everyone.” you chuckle, arms motioning around you to prove your point.

He doesn’t, his eyes stay solely on you but you’re too busy being sarcastic and still bitter about this party to properly register that.

Jimin isn’t stupid. He knows how these parties work. Where’s alcohol, there’s a big urge to have sex and it proves to be right when everyone’s kissing or dancing which mainly leads to the sex itself.

“I take it you’re not here willingly.” he speaks up, eyes dropping towards your mouth where a fake blood is smeared in the corner of your lips.

It’s supposed to add a little bit of horror detail to your look, but you’re far from that.

“Debatable. My friend had decided to invite me at the last minute and now she ditched me because of her ex. Honestly, the guy is a total prick, I don’t know why she keeps running after him.” you explain, scoffing as you cross your arms over your chest.

Jimin reacts with a low chuckle, slowly licking his bottom lip before he takes a deep breath. It’s interesting to watch him, there’s something about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

You wouldn’t tell Yeri’s business to just some stranger, or anyone, but maybe it’s those two shots of soju that let your mouth on the loose. He doesn’t know her anyway and you’re too annoyed to care, even though you do feel a pang of guilt.

“What are you doing here? Besides, to have fun here. Did you come here alone?”

Great, Y/N. Now you sound noisy making it sound like you’re asking if he has a girlfriend. Did you come here alone is a totally straightforward question, a very bad pickup line usually guys use. You’ve no idea why you just asked that. However, Jimin doesn’t seem to mind and even though, his lips quirk in a sly smirk and you act like you haven’t noticed, he shakes his head to give you an answer.

“My friend was particularly interested in this party.”

He doesn’t lie, it’s true. Taehyung did persuade Jimin to come to this one.

“Oh, so you were dragged into this like me,” you chuckle.

He isn’t, but he stays quiet.

“I wish she’d tell me sooner than four hours before the party had started. I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t even get to shop for my Halloween look and ended up with Yeri’s costume from last year. God knows what these dresses have been through.”

The incredibly handsome stranger laughs, like truly laughs and it’s the most beautiful sound ever. It makes you grin without even noticing.

“I do think you make a perfect mixture of spooky and ravishing nurse.”

Yeah, Yeri’s costume last year was a nurse but you put your own thought into it and put some fake blood in the corner of your lips and the top of your cheekbone. There’s some of it on your collarbone and arm just to make it more ‘scary’ but it’s just a huge fail. The dress is short, luckily not dangerously short for you to feel uncomfortable in them. You’re not even sure if this is a Halloween costume. Yeri looks like the type of girl to like foreplay, maybe she used it with her ex. Oh fuck, you can’t think about that.

His compliment completely blows all your thoughts out, your heart picking a pace as for the first time, your facade slowly falls down and you blush. Did he just called you hot?

“Thanks,” you grin, “Although, I think this costume is shitty it’s still better than being dressed as Harley.”

“Harley?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.

You stare at him, watching his confused gaze before something flickers in his eyes and he just stares at you.

Well, not everyone had seen Suicide Squad.

“From the movie? Suicide Squad? Harley and Joker? They’re this lunatic couple and everyone’s been wearing their costumes for the past... three years, is it? I don’t even know but it’s so cliché. I think I saw four Jokers on my way to the bathroom. Don’t get me started on Harley.” you roll your eyes, leaning yourself against the kitchen counter that’s behind you.

The two of you just stand in silence for a couple of seconds, and you almost think it’s awkward even though there’s not an awkward atmosphere and you’re just standing in a comfortable silence.

“So, vampire, huh?” you fill the silence after a moment, catching his attention as he watches you with a serious look. “Not to be an asshole, but that’s an overused costume as well.” you add, wondering if you’re getting too comfortable with this stranger.

But he’s probably the most normal and sober guy you stumbled upon, even if he’s the one who approached you. There’s something odd about him, but that’s just because he’s not like one of those drunk assholes trying to get you into one of the rooms upstairs. He’s not rude, disrespectful and drunk and that’s all that matters for you to feel comfortable talking to him.

His features relax and he lets out a breathy chuckle, showing his fangs. “Their costumes don’t do the justice.” he comments, eyes watching one of the guy passing by who’s got vampire costume which makes you snort.

Overused, like you said.

“They do look cheap,” you comment, giggling. “Isn’t it uncomfortable to talk with those?”

He looks at you with confusion, mouth opening in realization when you point at your teeth to explain.

“No.”

It comes out short, surprisingly deep and serious and for a moment, it looks like he wants to say something else but decides not to when he closes his mouth.

“You look believeable, though.”

“I do, don’t I?” he chuckles, and your body relaxes when all the seriousness is gone.

“Your skin is pale, not covered in that awful white color and your eyes... wow, those lenses look beautiful. It must’ve been an expensive costume.” you tell him, head leaning towards him as you study his eyes.

They’re almost deep red. Weren’t they more orange before? The lightening is shitty and honestly, you’re too busy inspecting the beauty and uniqueness of his eyes.

He looks stunned, and it looks like he stopped breathing for a moment when you lean closer to him to study his eyes and face. He closes his mouth, not letting you see the fangs hiding underneath those plump lips and even though they’re slightly poking, you can’t see much. He’s dressed normally, not wearing some awful costume. He’s done the minimum with his costume but he can easily win as the vampire of this party. It’s not too much, decent enough to make people stop and praise his costume if they had the chance to be face to face with him.

“I’m Jimin.” he decides to say instead, not even showing his gratitude from your compliment but you ignore it.

It was more of a loud thought anyway. You’re distracted again, this time by his name.

Jimin.

Fuck, even his name is beautiful.

“Y/N,” you tell him, giving him a smile which you hide by taking a sip of your drink.

He watches you, eyes scanning your lips before they move down to your throat as you gulp. You’re too focused watching people dance to notice the way he licks his lips and gulps.

“So, are you studying here?”

His eyes shoot up, your voice catching his attention once again before he thinks through your question. It’s weird how long he’s taking to actually answer, it’s quite simple question that's got a simple answer.

“No,”

That’s it? Just no?

He must’ve noticed the faint frown that settles on your face before he gives you a little quirk of his lips, those plump lips stretching to a handsome smile that once again gets all your attention.

“Are you?”

“Huh?” you blurt out, embarrassed how quick that flew out of your mouth.

You’re even more embarrassed, your cheeks slowly tinting into a red color when he chuckles lowly under his breath, completely aware of your lack of attention because all of it was focused on his goddamn smirk.

“Are you studying here?” he asks, not hiding that amused smirk that slowly settles into a soft smile that encourages you to answer.

“Yeah,” you smile, “psychology.”

“Are you a future psychologist?” he asks, a glint of teasing in his tone but there’s a curiosity lacing on his soft pale features.

How did he guess that?

“Maybe?” you chuckle, poking your inner cheek with a tongue. “I thought that’s what I want to be in the future, growing up it used to be my dream.” you tell him honestly.

You’ve no idea why you’re so honest and talkative with a complete stranger. Even though you haven’t exposed anything too personal about yourself, it feels very simple to talk to Jimin. He holds this calm aura around him that makes you want to tell him your deepest secrets without you feeling guilty about it the next morning.

“Used to? It’s not anymore?” he asks, cocking his head innocently but you know he’s not stupid and knows what your words meant very well.

For some reason, it seems like he really wants to talk to you and urges you to talk more. He seems interested in you. Not seeing you as a snack and walking vagina, but maybe just someone he wants to talk with because he’s been dragged into this party just like you have. That’s one thing you’ve in common.

“Do you really wanna hear my heartbreaking life story?” you tease him, chuckling when the corner of his lips quirk up once again as he gives you a final nod.

“I’m quite intrigued.” he simply says, your heart skipping a beat for some reason and almost as if he could hear it, he lifts his eyebrow in a provocative and cocky manner.

“Will you tell me yours?” you ask in return, cocking your brow at him which makes him smile.

“Depends on how interesting yours will be.” he says, your lips set into a straight line before you purse them and give him a long sigh.

“It’s nothing drastic. I just feel like it’s not what I wanna do anymore, the worst thing of it all is that I’ve no idea what I wanna do in the first place. But it’d be a good job for me, something I need. It pays well and maybe, it’ll be more fun than I think it is right now. All I can think about is my dad and just the fact that I need to keep going. Life sucks, right?” you chuckle, trying to ease the sudden serious and saddened tone you had.

Jimin is not a person who gets bluffed easily but he acts like he hadn’t noticed anything.

“Your dad?” he asks, slowly watching your reaction as if he’s waiting for you to tell him some drastic news about your father.

“It’s just me and my dad. He’s got a huge loan for the next couple of years and I’m trying to help him, but the part-time jobs just aren’t enough. When I finish college, I’ll be able to find a better job and help him with that. He deserves it and that’s what keeps me going, y’know? I need to pay him back for taking care of me. But it’s okay, I just can’t wait until there’s no loan over our heads. I came to the conclusion that life can be happy and fun, even if there are things that suck.” you explain, noticing how interested he seems to be with your words, sinking all of the information you just gave him.

Despite how sad you seemed to be talking about your family, Jimin notices that you’re staying positive no matter what exactly happened in your life and what you haven’t told him. And that you’ve a goal, purpose you want to fill and probably a bigger heart that you're letting show to others. Maybe he’s wrong, it doesn’t have to be this way. He doesn’t know you. But it’s not right to think that it’s only you. Every person in this house, or even in the entire world, has something they want to accomplish. Dreams, goals and all of that. Maybe some of them don’t know it yet, they’re lost but that’s what life is for. To let them figure it out.

“That’s very nice of you.” he says, surprising you how serious and soft he sounds at the same time.

“But what about you? What is your life story?” you ask, wanting to change the topic because your life being discussed when you’ve had a few shots isn’t a good idea. Few more and you’d be probably bawling your eyes out just because you get emotional easily, especially if alcohol is involved.

“It doesn’t matter,” he chuckles, “It’s not interesting anyway.”

You don’t hide the disappointment that settles on your face, causing your lips to pout which makes him scrunch his nose cutely. What a shame, you really wanted to get to know him more. It’s like he’s putting distance between you two, keeping a safe distance but still wanting to be in your presence. He’s confusing you.

“But I told you mine.” you pout, mumbling under your breath like a child that just lost a game.

It’s comical, how you’re dressed in a sexy nurse costume and pouting just because you’re dissapointed. For the first time since being here, he feels unsure and actually stops for a second as you see his eyes dance between yours.

“My parents are dead. And I wish I could’ve made them proud like you’re making your dad.” he says, completely serious as you gape at him with an open mouth.

Is he serious? You don’t know him, his reactions are mysterious and despite him talking about his dead parents, he looks too serious and doesn’t show any sadness.

“I-I’m s--“

“Don’t,” he stops you, voice rough as he coughs and tries to mask his all of a sudden unfriendly tone.

It makes you speechless and actually bad for pressuring him into telling you more. Although, you’re not sure if that can be called pressuring.

“It’s been a long time since they’re not here. I’ve had time to process it.” he explains, hand brushing through his golden locks while you watch them bounce right back into its place.

You don’t ask how long they’re dead, or anything about them because it’s not your place to be curious about that. If you knew sooner about them not being alive, you wouldn’t even show him how disappointed you were of not hearing his shortened version of life story.

All you can give him is a slight nod, awkwardly glancing at your heels that, of course are borrowed from Yeri. Remembering that there's still almost a full bottle of soju that you snatched for yourself behind you, you turn around and pour yourself a shot as you glance at Jimin. He's staring at you, attentively paying attention to your face, as you give him a crooked smile.

“You want some?”

“No.” he answers, causing you to shrug as you drink the shot in one go, weirded out by the expression he gives you. It almost looks like he's glaring at you for drinking and it makes you give him a dumbfounded look.

“Aren't you thirsty?” you ask, his jaw clenching before he allows himself to relax and a low chuckle comes out of his mouth.

“You've no idea,” he grins, taking a step closer to you as he hovers over you, cornering you while your lower back digs into the kitchen counter.

Your eyes are big, staring at him in a complete shock by his sudden move but you can't move away. Your whole body is frozen, staring into his red eyes that stare right back into yours as if he's looking for something in them. His own hands lean against the kitchen counter right beside your waist, almost touching you while your heart trembles with excitement. And then when you think it can't get worse, he actually leans his face closer to yours as he takes a sniff of you. He hums at your scent, your cheeks flaring both in embarrassment and praise, mentally clapping yourself on the shoulder for choosing that expensive Yves Saint Laurent perfume you got from Yeri last Christmas. You've always saved it for special occasions, and even though you don't think of this party as anything special, you're glad you've listened to your own guts and used it. Let's just ignore the fact that you used it because you were counting on sweating, knowing the strong perfume will make you smell amazing either way.

He pulls slightly back, your noses almost touching as you can smell his own cologne, mixed with something that smells like mint. You don't even blink, not allowing yourself to budge as he gives you a tiny smirk.

“I'm particularly thirsty for something else.” he tells you silently, his voice getting a few octaves deeper but yet sounding calm and soft.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, the huge lump there almost uncomfortable, as you stare at him with still the same shock. Gulping, you blink a few times as you wonder what the hell just happened.

You should be mad because after all, he lied to you. He told you he's not here for sex, yet he implied something erotic and suggestive with a simple sentence that rolled off his tongue so easily and elegantly, but that's not the worst part. The worst part – that you're not proud of – is that you like it and you can feel yourself pressing your thighs together. This had never happened before. No guy could made your body hot without even touching you, and you wouldn't be so thirsty too for someone you only know by their first name.

“I thought you didn't come here for sex.” you manage to speak up, successfully without stuttering or sounding too nervous, although confusion and the slightest tremble in your voice is audible even to you.

“I didn't,” he confirms, nodding but not moving an inch from you. Without taking your eyes off him, you slowly blink as you watch him lick his lips. “But you look irresistible to my eyes.” he says simply, slowly reaching for the strand of your hair as he twirls it around his index finger.

He's not touching you fully, and unfortunately you can't quite feel his touch through your hair because even now, he delicately touches your hair like you're a fragile doll that may break.

“Then, why don't you do something?” you surprise yourself, not believing something like that just left your mouth. You would never say something like this to a stranger, no matter how handsome and freaking hot he is. But this is Jimin, it seems like everything is different with him.

And he laughs. He actually laughs like you've just told him a funny joke, and all you can do is stare at him like he just lost his mind. Is he just playing with you? Was he testing you? Before your crazy thoughts and theories could swarm your already confused mind, something else catches your attention that makes a prominent frown adorn your features. This doesn't get unnoticed by Jimin, his laughter dying down as he realizes where your eyes and attention are focused onto.

There are no longer any fangs poking out of his mouth, and you watch something flicker behind those red orbs that seem to glow in the gloomy lightning.

“What do you want me to do?” he asks, ignoring your look of confusion and curiosity that still lingers in your eyes that don't look away from his mouth just yet.

“Where are your--”

“Took them off,” he cuts you off, letting go of your hair. “Now, be a good girl and answer my question.” he hums, inching closer to you as you hold your breath.

“What do you want to do?” you ask instead, getting a breathy chuckle from him. You're not sure whether it's because of your question or because you purposely avoided answering his.

“You wouldn't wanna know,” he chuckles, eyes dropping down to your lips that are already nibbling on your bottom lip. “It'll bleed if you keep bitting on it.” he comments, licking his own.

“What, are you scared of blood?” you joke, releasing your mouth that seemed to get his attention, before the mention of blood causes him to snap those red eyes to yours.

“Not in the slightest,” he smirks, for whatever reason but it shoots butterflies straight to your stomach. “Are you?” he cocks his head to the side, reminding you of a snake that eyes its prey. Or some predator that has some fun with its prey before they kill it.

Fuck, you shouldn't have watched that horror movie Yeri suggested yesterday.

“Of what? Blood or you?” you find the courage to ask, raising a brow at him as you eye his from up and down.

He smirks, cocking his brow at you. “You tell me. Are you scared of me?”

Maybe you should be. No one has ever approached you, talked to you or given you this kind of attention before. This is a completely new territory that you're tiptoeing around, and it does give you some kind of thrill. Maybe it's because your life is boring and Jimin summons a new temptation that you've never felt before. There could be hundreds of reasons why you feel this way or what you should feel instead, but you can't bother yourself to think about it any longer. Because instead of feeling any fear towards the new stranger that has angelic features and voice, and with some kind of darkness that he's hiding, you feel yourself getting more interested and temped. In this case, he's like a forbidden fruit for you.

“No,” you reply confidently, head held high as you grin. “Should I be?”

This constant teasing and the lack of touch just sets a flame of temptation inside you that slowly drives you insane.

“Maybe,” he says, tips of his fingers reaching for your dress as he plays with the hem of it, fingers dancing dangerously at the top of your breasts. “You're the one who's gripping the kitchen counter for your dear life.” he teases, your eyes shooting to your hands that in fact, are gripping the corner so tightly that they turn white.

Embarrassingly, you let it go as you cross your hands over the chest to make yourself appear more confident, trying to mask the way your heart thumps loudly against your chest.

“That doesn't mean I'm scared.” you tell him, indirectly suggesting that there may be another reason why you appear to be so tense.

Judging by the tiny and already known smirk that slowly stretches across those beautiful and thick lips, Jimin confirms that he knew way before you even said it out loud. No matter how many times you seem to outrun him, he's always two steps ahead of you, having a prepared answer.

“What it could mean, then?” he asks lowly, feigning an incomprehensibility that this time – you see and are prepared for.

“Many things.” you gulp, breath hitching when the tip of his finger slightly touches your skin. It's short-lived and almost unrecognizable, but it still makes you shiver over the fact he's so close touching the top of your breasts.

In other scenarios, you wouldn't let anyone this near to you, nor someone almost touching your breasts that are covered in a costume dress.

“Care to share, my love?”

The new petname shoots excitement straight to your body, your cheeks flaring pink as you look away from him for a moment. You know he's aware of your reaction and how that little petname affected you, but you remain confident as you stare right back at him.

“I think you get the idea.”

In no way in hell, you'd ever tell him how much you wish to be fucked by him. Those sinful thoughts have to stay in your head, and even if you're not saying them loud like he wants you to, you know he's smart enough to get the idea.

“Tell me.” he presses, fingers playing with the top buttons of your costume that you can't unfortunately feel that much, except the tiny pressure he puts on them by playing with it.

“Jimin...” you whine, causing him to grin cheekily at you. For a moment, it looks like he lost that dark and mysterious aura. “Why won't you kiss me?”

You're done playing this game, your patience is slowly dying as you wish to feel his lips against yours. Even just for a second.

“Because you never asked me to,” he answers simply, surprising you by his diplomatic answer that sounds nothing but truthful.

“If I ask you to,” Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. He's doing this purposely, he wants you to make the first move. You feel like his goal is to make you desperate for him, which he didn't have to do for long. You don't get it.

“Will you kiss me?” you ask quietly, eyes searching his once again.

“Mhm,” he confirms. “If that's what you want.”

First of all, you're surprised that he's more interested in your own interest and consent, instead to taking the first chance of your attention and weakness for himself. And there's a chance that you were wrong. Maybe he hadn't been doing this to push you to make the first move, or to enjoy how you're squirming underneath his hovering figure. All he wanted this whole time has been your consent. Second of all, it makes him fucking attractive for doing so and no matter what the real reason is, you're willing to risk it all for this man.

“Jimin,” you tell him, voice strained and raspy. “Kiss me.”

For all you know, he could be playing with you this whole time and he doesn't have to be interested in you. Again, Jimin proves you that you're wrong and manages to surprise you all over again when in seconds, he pulls you closer to him and presses your lips together. Jimin seeks your lips hungrily, surprising you how rough and fast he is as if he was controlling himself this whole time. His hand is holding your head from the back for support, while the other one grabs your hip and squeezes it. Gasping, you shiver at the feeling of his tongue dancing across your bottom lip before he envelopes your mouth again. Your tongues move together, your own hands gripping his biceps that are hidden beneath his leather jacket. Jimin has a boosted energy, barely allowing you to breathe between the hungered kisses he's showering you with, and when you start desperately trying to catch your breath, you're forced to press against his chest firmly. It's hard, much harder than you've imagined and it takes an extra strength to actually make him budge, which primarily is the soft whimper that you let out against his mouth. He moves away, almost jumping away from you as he stares at you all frozen.

He watches your chest move quickly, trying to catch the oxygen that your lungs are craving for. You put your own hand over your chest, chuckling when you feel your heart beating fast and hard.

A group of drunk people stumble inside the kitchen, catching your attention as they laugh loudly, unable to walk properly as they're reaching for other bottles that are placed on the kitchen island. You weren't here alone this whole time, there are still a couple of people making out or talking, probably searching for somewhere more peaceful than the living room where the most people are. Considering this fact that someone might've seen you sucking off each other's faces, it doesn't bother you and it's probably mainly the fact they probably hadn't even noticed.

The sudden drop of soju bottle that breaks instantly and stains the floor snaps you out of your thoughts, your gaze shifting to the drunk girl who starts giggling over the fact she's too drunk and clumsy to the point she just dropped a bottle. Now, there's soju smell lingering in the air and staining the floor with shards of glass laying there.

Turning to Jimin, you catch the sudden scrunch of his nose at the smell of alcohol which makes you giggle, even though you find it not so pleasing either. Taking a few steps towards him, you grab him by his wrist and drag him deeper into the house. Surprisingly, he allows you to drag him as he stares at the back of your head until you stop and push the door open. You're quick to turn the lock, making sure there's no one disturbing you as he finally notices where you brought him. The bathroom is decorated in deep blue, the same gloomy lightning that comes from the round mirror and creates a much more dark and intimate atmosphere. Standing in the safe distance, he watches you turn around to him and lean against the small counter where the sink is.

His eyes turn dark, the red color almost unrecognizable as he keeps staring at you without making any move. Throwing out your insecurity, because this in fact is your first bold move that you've made on someone, you don't let it disturb you from your plan. Your palms sprawled against the bathroom counter, ass digging into the edge of it, you straighten yourself and cross your exposed legs.

“Are you gonna just stand there and stare at me?” you ask, one hand flicking your hair over your shoulder which catches most of Jimin's attention and his eyes get big. The exposure of your nakedness, the vein that pokes beneath your beautiful and warm skin makes him react instantly.

You yelp when he's suddenly in front of you, using the lack of your attention and the second of you closing your eyes to blink, he's gripping your face before he attacks your lips with his own, kissing you hungrily that he did the first time. Only this time, you're ready for the strength and intensity of his kisses, awaiting for his tongue that darts out into your mouth. You grip his jacket, trying to take it off but it's impossible with him holding you so close. Tugging onto the leather material, he gets your message and strips it off, tossing it carelessly onto the dirty floor. Your palms spread over his chest, feeling his hardened muscles that are surprisingly too hard. In an instant, you're turned around, hands gripping the sink as you feel Jimin's hands on your thighs, slowly disappearing underneath the skirt of your dress. You shiver, his hands cold against your heated skin as you look back at him as much as your current position allows you to.

Unfortunately, you get only a brief glance at Jimin who turns you around rather aggressively. From this position, you can barely see him in the reflection of the mirror but as he looks up, you're met with his red eyes that stare at you back.

“What do you want?” he asks lowly, hands slowly caressing your ass cheeks that aren't covered by your panties, his nails grazing over the soft flesh.

Thank God, you chose to wear sexy underwear – the only sexy underwear you own.

“You,” you breathe out, telling him the obvious answer that he probably just wanted to hear. “You.. Jimin.”

You hear his low hum before your panties are pushed aside and dress hiked up, enough to let his fingers replace the lacy material. As soon as the tip of his cold fingers meet your heat that's coated with your slickness, your breath hitches. He starts rubbing the area, making sure he does the same thing to your clit before he pushes two fingers in. You gasp, not expecting him to enter you all of a sudden, especially with two fingers that stretch you deliciously. It slightly burns, but your arousal that's used as a lube helps a lot and it makes it easier for him to get in.

Jimin's surprised by your tightness, wondering when was the last time someone touched you while his red eyes flicker to your reflection to check your reaction. He's a monster, he shouldn't care if he's being too rough with you but for some reason he's curious to see how you react to his touch. A cocky smirk flickers on his lips when he sees your eyes closed and mouth open in delight.

“You like that?” he whispers, mouth hovering over your ear as he takes another sniff of you. Do you really smell that good?

He presses his thumb against your clit, circling it when he feels you clenching around and that's why he adds another finger. You gasp, mumbling something incorrect to both your and his ears. Again, he just smirks at your lack of response and how fucked out you already seem to be. He barely had to do anything.

Pulling your hips to him, he makes you arch for him with your ass pursed up almost dangerously close to his crotch.

Fucking you with his fingers, he has no mercy on you and your loud pleas of slowing down. He doesn't know you, but it feels like he reads all the signs your body gives him and with you clenching around his three fingers, being a mess that barely stands on her own feet, he knows you're close. The pleasure gets too much, his palms slapping against your clit as he keeps fucking you is nothing you are prepared for. The orgasm and the chase after it gets too intense, no longer in your hands and with you being able to control it, you're cumming around his fingers, sucking them right in. He slows down, but still keeps a sloppy pace that fucks you through it. Your whole body burns with tingles of post-orgasm and if it weren't for your hands desperately clutching onto the sink, and Jimin's body behind you caging you in, you'd probably fall like a potato sack.

He pulls out his fingers, sounds of slurping leaving his mouth as he cleans them. Unfortunately for you, you've missed that devilish sight of him doing it. You pry your eyes open, slowly straightening yourself as you turn around to check the devil himself.

Just as expected, he's smirking at you, proudly staring at your flushed cheeks and the quick rise of your chest. You surprise him, clutching his shirt between your fingers before you pull him closer and connect your lips together. He lets you kiss him, hands wrapping around his neck and finally feeling up his skin more properly. You're surprised how cold he is, yet no hint of goosebumps cover his skin.

“You're so cold,” you comment, rubbing your hands over his forearms trying to warm him up.

Glancing back at him, you're surprised by the dumbfounded look he gives you before his mouth quirks up. “You wanna warm me up?” he asks, cocking his brow at you as your mouth salivates, your hands completely stopping.

“Yeah,” you answer, no idea why the fuck would you even answer that when you should just put yourself to action. The little act makes him chuckle, leaning closer to you as you hear him gulp.

You think he's about to kiss you, his lips close to the crook of your neck and you tilt your head to the side, to give him a better room for that. However, you're surprised when his mouth never makes an actual contact with your neck. You slightly tilt back, staring at his frozen state as you see his throat bob.

“Jimin?” you ask, growing worried when he seems to be acting weird all of a sudden. “Are you okay?”

Your voice is muffled to his ears, he barely hears you as all he can focus is the way your blood pulses in your veins and the soft heartbeat of your heart. But you don't know that, all you can see is Jimin standing there gulping and not moving at all. It's until your hand makes contact with his cheek, your warm palm ready to envelop it but before you can even properly touch his skin, he's gripping your wrist at an extreme speed. You stare at him, almost jumping back from the sudden movement.

“You scared me,” you chuckle, trying to ease the tension as he takes a step back. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly, staring at you with those red eyes. “Now be a good girl and suck my cock.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, surprised by the sudden change in his behavior and tone. He starts unbuckling his belt, your mouth salivating at the thought you're about to see his cock. It's been awhile since you gave a proper blowjob and although, you're not quite satisfied with your skills of giving one in the first place, you just can't wait to taste him.

If Yeri could see you right now, she'd never believe that it's the same best friend that has always been opposed to one night stands.

Dropping onto your knees, your face is facing his growing bulge as you look up at him for permission. He chuckles, licking his bottom lip as he nods his head at you, silently telling you to get to it already. You put his jeans down, not entirely just enough to expose his casual black boxer briefs, as they stay wrapped around his mid-thighs. His boxer briefs are next, your fingers too eager to see him rather than to tease and play with him. Something tells you that Jimin is not the type to enjoy teasing. His erection spreads free, finally out of the material of his tight jeans, and it slaps against his clothed stomach that's hidden beneath the white shirt.

You wish there was a better lightning and for a second, you contemplate whether to turn the main light on, just to fully appreciate his erected length. No matter what the lightning is, you notice how thick he is and a few veins that poke underneath the thin skin. From the light patch of hair to the red tip that's leaking with a little bit of pre-cum makes your mouth salivate like never before, and you make sure you gulp all of it before you can embarrass yourself. Not wasting any time, your hand curls around the base as you give him a testing squeeze which surprisingly, makes him barely react and when you glance up at him, he stares at you with dark eyes.

Little do you know he needs your touch, he needs to distract himself from the thirst and hunger, and that dark voice inside his head that tells him to do something completely different, rather than have you on your knees and ready to take him.

As if you could hear his thoughts – which you can't and he knows that – he almost sighs in relief when you wrap your pretty red lips around his tip. It doesn't matter that your lipstick is completely smeared from Jimin's lips and his furious kisses. Sucking on it, you let the angry red tip glisten with your saliva before you start pumping him. Through hooded eyes, Jimin watches you licking a strip up his cock as you go back to sucking him off while pumping his hardened length, this time harder and quicker. Jimin's low grunts that occasionally leave his mouth encourages you to take him deeper, the tip of his cock almost hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes burn with tears but you blink them away, curling your tongue around the head of Jimin's cock. His hand grabs the back of your head, clutching your hair in his fist as he starts moving his hips. It hurts a little, he's putting too much pressure and strength into grabbing your hair and the roots that burn your skull. But with your own arousal between your legs, slowly dripping down your thighs and the undying lust that you feel towards Jimin, you've no time to complain. It adds another pinch of pleasure, a pleasure that makes you moan around his length and almost gag when he thrusts into your mouth. Surprisingly, you look up and you find him checking your reaction.

Your warm hand around his cock and even warmer mouth that's wrapped around him feels surprisingly nicer than he thought it'd be. He takes his time to notice your reddened cheeks that he can see even from up, and with the dim lightning his red eyes catch the line of saliva that's drooling out of your mouth. And he growls, he actually growls and pulls you from his cock in seconds, before he's pulling you up and if it weren't for his strong hold, you'd surely stumble how quick he got you up. He backs you into the bathroom counter, to your previous position before he fingered you, but this time you're face to face. Your ass is digging into the edge of the counter, although you don't seem to care. You're too focused staring at Jimin that clenches his jaw, suddenly bumping into you as he starts kissing you. Whimpering into his mouth, you're surprised when he easily lifts you up and gets you seated on the bathroom counter. However your yelp is muffled by his mouth, his hands pulling you close to the edge, dangerously close that you're clutching onto him, scared of a possible fall. But Jimin got you, his body is caging you and creates a barrier between you and the floor.

Jimin's hand wrapped around his erected cock looks sinful, like nothing you've ever seen before, at least no one made it look so effortlessly hot. Your body almost trembles with the anticipation of feeling him inside of you, and you know it's coming because he starts pumping himself. Not even aware that you stretch your legs to give him a better space, plus giving him a view of the mess between your legs. He pulls you closer, nudging your thighs apart even more before his other hand moves your ruined panties more to the side. He gets a better view of your pulsating heat that's waiting just for him.

“What about a condom?”

He stops, eyes flickering to yours as he stares at you with unreadable recognition. It's enough that you're about to have sex with some stranger, even though it's very hot and irresistible stranger, but you don't know him after all. Are you ready to risk it for him? The rational you mentally praises you for remembering such important detail before it could've been too late.

“Don't have one,” he says through teeth, almost seeming to be annoyed that you stopped him.

Maybe you should grow offended or annoyed yourself by his reaction, but for some reason you don't. You just stare and wait for him to say something else.

“You don't trust me?” There it is – the smirk comes back and makes an appearance on his thick lips again.

“I don't know you.” you point out, cocking a brow at him.

“Yet, you're here sprawled for me ready to be fucked,” he chuckles lowly, your expression dropping as your eyes grow big. “I don't know you either, that's why we need to trust each other.” he says, but still doesn't move to do anything else.

Your mind is screaming at you, telling you over and over again how a bad idea this is and that you'll regret it. There's no actual threat of disease of a potential pregnancy (even though, you've been taking birth control since your teenage years) but you don't know that. He can't exactly tell you without having to explain something that he doesn't even want to or has to explain.

“Hm? What's it gonna be?” he purrs, his hand cupping your jaw as he starts caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Are we gonna trust each other?”

In a way, you're aware he's coaxing you into agreeing and using your temptation by using his low and tempting tone, but you don't find yourself calling him out for it. You're speechless, not able to move your mouth and find your own voice, even though you're not sure what your answer is going to be. But then he's pulling away, taking your silence as an answer which kind of surprises you because you thought he really is coaxing you into agreeing. Before he can fully pull away, you wrap your legs around his frame and cage him.

He opens his mouth staring at you as you can feel his hardened length touching the exposed skin of your thigh.

“Fuck me, Jimin.” you tell him, meeting him in the middle as you both crash your lips together.

The kiss is heated, even more than ever before and you shiver when you feel his tip against your heat. He looks at you, checking one more time as you give him a nod before you crash your lips together again.

He needs you as his distraction but he's not an asshole to take you without your consent, or trying to control you.

With that, he pushes past your folds and enters you. You gasp, pressing your face into his shoulder as you bite onto him gently. He doesn't budge, not surprised by the feeling of your teeth dangerously poking him through the fabric of his shirt. He's pushing in, bottoming out before he's already pulling out just to thrust back in. Jimin has no patience, already getting to work as he starts fucking you. With each thrust, it gets easier to move inside of you as your cum and arousal helps him. You're surprised how good you're taking him, even though your walls do burn with the sudden penetration and the new feeling of his thick cock. Even the pace is going too fast, the top of his thighs slapping against the back of yours while his balls make contact with your ass. The bathroom is filled with sinful sounds of skin on skin slapping, and it coaxes you to clench around him repeatedly. You can't keep up with the animalistic and rustless pace he set, whimpering and moaning his name all over again with an occasional curse falling out of your lips. Jimin grunts are no longer silenced ones, although he seems to be controlling his voice much more.

“Fuck,” you moan, head tilting back as your hands are doing a poor job at trying to hold you in place.

Jimin's hands are around your thighs, making sure your legs stay apart as he keeps fucking into you. You can feel sweat slowly dripping down your neck, even your ass getting sweaty from the contact of the bathroom counter.

“I'm--fuck, I'm close.” you gasp, clutching the edge even harder and before you can say something else, you're already cumming around him. “Ohhh, fuck, Jimin.” you moan out through your orgasm, his pace not slowing down even after you're done and gritting your teeth at the overstimulation.

His head falls into the crook of your neck, lips almost making contact with your skin as he starts shaking and grunting. You think he's close, that it's only a natural reaction of approaching orgasm and you're completely thrown back when he suddenly pulls away completely. His cock is out of you in a record time and as you blink, he's in the middle of the bathroom standing with his jeans and boxer briefs wrapped around his mid-thighs, along with still hardened cock that's coated with your cum. If the situation weren't so weird all of a sudden, you'd probably focus on the sight in front of you much more.

You watch Jimin's features twist in an almost painful expression, his nose scrunching as his whole body shakes. It's nothing too drastic but just enough to notice by the way he's shivering and trying to control himself. He gulps a couple of times as well, seeming like he's in a pain. You've no idea what has just happened and you just stand there completely clueless, eyes big and mouth agape.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

You hop off the counter, ignoring how sensitive you're between your legs and how hard it feels like to be standing on your feet all of a sudden.

“Don't,” he warns you, voice raising as he outstretches his arm to keep you from coming closer. “Don't come any closer.” he says lowly, head held high as you can't see his face.

“What, why? What happened?” you ask worriedly, your eyes filled with worry and confusion at the same time.

When you're about to take another step towards him, it's like he can sense it before you can even more your feet, his head snaps to you and he growls at you.

“Fucking stay away.” he warns you again, almost yelling at you as you jump in fear.

The last thing he sees is your scared eyes before he focuses his gaze to the floor again. He can feel the veins starting to cracking up on his skin, showing what he really craves for. He can't let you see. With your heartbeat being the loudest melody in the room and your smell filling it too, he can't promise not to do something he doesn't want to. That was the whole purpose of tonight, the whole purpose of approaching you and talking to you. He has no idea what's happening to him and why can't he listen to what his mind is telling him to do. He's controlling himself and he knows if he stays any longer, you're not going to make it without any harm.

And that's why he focuses his attention on something else, desperately listening to people slurring drunken nonsense and the loud music before something else catches his attention. It's not too much, just the only thing that helps with not focusing on your smell entirely. It's something no one else can hear, the whimpers and slurping sounds that could only mean one thing.

You notice how he zones out, your hands pulling your dress down to have at least some kind of modesty as you eye the stranger in front of you.

“J--”

His eyes snap to yours as he turns around. “You need to leave.”

“I-- what?” you blurt out, seeing him tucking himself back into the jeans. You ignore the feeling of disappointment that clouds your mind for a whole second, before you're back to confusingly staring at him.

“I don't know wha--”

Taking two long steps, he's right in front of you before he grips your face tightly into his hands. You whimper at the strength staring into his dark orbs that shine like never before.

“Get your friend and leave. You've to leave, right now.”

The firmness in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you, however it gets somewhere in the back of your mind as you stare at Jimin with big eyes. Painfully for you, he lets you go as he starts backing away from you but there's nothing you can do. You can't bring yourself to move, nor rush after him when he flicks the lock open and walks out of the bathroom. You stand there, your mind suddenly snapping into action as the only thing you can think about is getting Yeri.

When Jimin makes it through the crowd, successfully hiding and blending with his surroundings, he stops and makes sure he has a great view of you walking out of the bathroom. He's watching you from the safe distance, seeing you trying to find your friend that seems to be nowhere in sight. When desperation is evident on your face since you've checked every room downstairs and you still can't find her, your legs lead you upstairs. He wishes he'd tell you to go alone, the longer you're staying... no, he doesn't care.

His mind drifts away to the moment in the bathroom, where his long canines started growing and all he could think about was sinking them to your delicious neck.

He can hear your faint heartbeat but he doesn't allow himself to get closer, not even if you're already upstairs opening every door of each room to find your friend. And when he sees Taehyung with a satisfied grin and blood dripping down his chin nearing him, it makes Jimin think only one thing. None of these people are aware of the liquid dripping down his friend's chin, thinking that it's just another fake blood even if Jimin can smell the metal scent from miles away.

You're growing annoyed when the third room you open, there's still no sight of Yeri but some drunk couples having sex or smoking weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, wondering if these people don't know what locks are. As you're nearing another room, you just hope there are no naked people and any possible butts that you'll be seeing before you take the doorknob into your hands.

But nothing could ever prepare you for the sight behind that door.

The room is dark, the street lights create at least some kind of lightning but you still decide to turn up the lights. It happens in seconds. The first thing you recognize is the costume, the same one she proudly showed you this morning saying she'll be the hottest Black Widow. You stare at the horrific sight of the face of your friend which is almost unrecognizable. Her lifeless body is laying on a bed, blood trickling down her neck and staining beige sheets underneath her. Your piercing scream rings in your ears but you can't stop screaming from the horror sight in front of you.

Jimin hears your screams, his eyes shifting towards the house as he starts the engine.

“You killed her?” he asks, voice low as he starts the engine.

“Y'know how I get,” Taehyung chuckles, wiping the remains of blood from his chin and mouth. “I was hungry.”

Jimin grips the steering wheel tightly, stealing a last glance at the house and the party that slowly turns into chaos. That's why they never come back. They can't and he should've known his longtime friend would get one of his moods. Taehyung is crazy, much more dangerous than Jimin because he gets so into his own needs.

“You didn't have to kill her.” Jimin points out, leaving the driveway while the house keeps getting further and further.

“I didn't have to, you're right. But I did,” he sighs pleasingly, patting his stomach as he makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat. “And she tasted fucking great.”

Jimin's jaw flexes, slowly growing irritated by his friend's decision to end someone's life again. He should've gotten used to it by now, but he can't never really process it. It's even weirder now that he knows that someone wasn't just someone. It was your best friend.

And that night, almost everyone who attended that party had some regrets. And you've got many of them.

You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin.

Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

If you just paid attention, maybe your friend would be still alive. And maybe you'd be in her place and would never make it out alive, if it weren't for the stranger with red dark orbs that hunts you every night.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts angst #jimin x reader #jimin smut #vampire au #kpop au #jimin angst #bts au #jimin fanfic #jimin scenario #bts oneshot #personasintro

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wasabito · 4 years

Text

➽ corruption collab masterlist — hosted by @ultimate-astridwriting and @bummie ♥️

➽ note: definitely gonna come back and edit this a bit more because threesomes are hard as fuck, no pun intended lmao happy v-day everyone!

➽ word count: 3.2k

➽ cw/tags: polyamory + body worship + threesome + praise kink + public sex + choking + handjobs/fingering + vaginal sex + squirting + established relationship

➽ pairing: akaashi x fem!reader x bokuto

💿 1. nasty — ariana grande || 2. come on — jhene aiko

With Valentine's Day fast approaching, it becomes rather apparent that love and romance are in the air. Storefronts are decorated in bubblegum pinks and reds. Flower shops promote their special bouquet arrangements at discounted prices. Even your favorite hole in the wall coffee shop has fallen prey to the spirit of cupid as they announce their new strawberry shortcake dessert and heart-shaped scones.

In lieu of staying home for the third night this week, your boyfriends escort you to dinner at an upscale restaurant in the city. They treat you to a five-course meal and a bottle of wine even pricier than the dinner itself. One would think, after three years of dating, you would no longer be caught unawares by their spontaneity. And yet, here they are, once again pulling the rug from underneath your four-inch heels.

Your gaze flickers from Akaashi's tranquil smile to Bokuto's wide grin.

Adjusting the napkin in your lap, you open your mouth to speak, then pause as the right words fail it come. Brain short-circuiting instead, you let out a confused, "Huh?!"

"We're taking you to Italy!" Bokuto repeats, about ready to hop out of his seat with excitement. He looks to Akaashi, "Three nights in Venice, right 'Kaashi?"

"Yes, we decided on Venice after you told us you'd always wanted to visit. Remember Koutarou's birthday last year?"

"But that was like months ago! Did you two honestly hold onto that drunk little confession this entire time?"

"Of course."

"Yup!!"

It's in moments like these when you are reminded of their history together, first as teammates playing volleyball, and eventually close friends. Not much longer after that, you'd met and fallen for Akaashi, then Bokuto, and thus began the relationship of today. While you find it a little ridiculous, it seems neither of them has any qualms about this trip.

After all, you are their lovely girlfriend. Why wouldn't they want to make your wishes come true?

Bokuto claps his hands, eyes sparkling. "Everything's already planned out, babe, so don't worry your pretty little head, okay?"

You can't argue with that. Reaching over, you take Bokuto's hand in your right and Akaashi's in your left. "Alright, since you two went to all this trouble for me, I guess I'll just sit back and enjoy it."

♥️

Venice is just as beautiful as you imagined.

It looks as if it's floating upon blue-green waters with lots of sunshine, beautiful architecture, and a vibrancy that makes it feel like the city has a life of its own. You are grateful you didn't come by yourself. There is no way you would've enjoyed it without Akaashi and Bokuto at your side.

"We're about a ten-minute walk from Piazza San Marco," Akaashi says as he taps his glasses. His sharp gaze is locked on the map in his hands, likely committing most landmarks and details to memory. "Would you like to check it out?"

"Yeah! Let's do it."

"Off we go, go, go!"

Thus, a majority of your first day in Venice is spent sightseeing.

The three of you take a gondola ride through Canale Grande, then have a peek into the Gallerie Dell'Accademia at Akaashi's insistence, though naturally, you wouldn't have come all the way to Italy and not visited at least one art museum. Afterward, the three of you go to the Le Mercerie shopping district and buy gifts for your friends before finally taking a pit stop for the most delicious gelato in the city.

The sunsets sooner than expected, casting the entire block in deep red hues. Bokuto's mood is greatly influenced by it, and the jetlag certainly doesn't help. He props himself against you, nuzzling you in a way that says he's itching for a kiss.

"Tired, Kou?"

Bokuto hums. "A little... More hungry than anything."

He leans in and pecks your lips with a sated smile. "Maybe I should eat you. I mean, how is it my girl's so damn cute? Not fair, I can't resist."

You snort at Bo's silliness but can't help shivering a little at the tiny implication of his words. He always did like to lay his head on your thighs, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites where he could.

So, the thought of him eating you out made you squeeze your thighs together.

Akaashi approaches with your frozen treats held between his long fingers; having overheard Bokuto earlier, he tucks his wallet back into his pocket.

"We'll get some dinner after we drop off these shopping bags. How does that sound?"

You eagerly take your gelato from him with a smile.

"Sounds like a plan."

Akaashi nods, standing at your other side, close enough to brush elbows though not as close as Bokuto, who was nearly hovering.

The three of you are in one of the narrow, maze-like streetways, basking in the warm, early evening glow. The sweet taste of fruit and cream on your tongue fills you with so much contentment, especially while being with your favorite people. You aren't sure if anything could top the way you currently felt, and the trip has just barely started.

Upon arriving at your temporary place of residence, a quaint little villa on the waterfront just along the shore of Punta Sabbioni Beach, Bokuto immediately kicks off his sandals, dumps the bags, and promptly falls asleep on the couch.

"It's so weird seeing Kou like this." You remark. "On any normal day, he's brimming with almost too much energy, but now he's all tired."

"Well, he did stay up an entire twelve hours on the plane. It was only a matter of time before fatigue caught up to him." Akaashi picks up Bokuto's shoes with practiced ease and places them by the others.

There is a fond smile running along the edges of his mouth as he tucks a throw around the man's larger frame. You help him adjust a spare pillow under Bo's head and then set off to explore the rest of the area.

It seemed like everything about Venice was taken straight out of a romance film, with its cobblestone paths, gothic cathedral architecture, crisp ocean waters, and authentic Italian cuisine. It is no wonder the city's known to draw hapless souls together in romance. Even you fell subject to it, and by each passing moment, you crave to be with your boyfriends.

You are standing at the balcony overlooking the beach, satisfied with your inspection of the villa when Akaashi comes to stand behind you. He holds onto the railings, caging you in his arms, and rests his chin on your shoulder.

"He was right, you know." He murmurs. "You do look good enough to eat."

Blunt as ever. Apparently, something's never change.

Though one might say that Akaashi is as he's always been after high school and college, there is no denying his boost in confidence. After all, he had landed not one but two rather attractive partners.

He kisses your cheek, then your jaw, before latching onto your neck.

The sun's scenic view on the horizon, reflecting upon the beach sands of gold and shimmering orange waves, makes for an excellent backdrop.

You turn to face Akaashi and pull him into a heated kiss. His lips convey a sense of devotion to you, and with each press of them against yours, you can feel just how bad he's yearning for more.

"Kei," you whisper. "Let's go inside."

In a moment, Akaashi whisks you off your feet quite similar to how Bokuto would, though you both don't even make it to the bedroom.

Your other partner had sat up on the sofa, hair flat on one side, scrubbing his eyelids.

"Guys, I'm freaking starving!" Bokuto groans. "Let's get some food or something."

He doesn't even notice how you and Akaashi are breathing heavy or how your clothes are sporting wrinkles that were not previously there. Regardless, Akaashi has food delivered while you went ahead to shower the day's journey away. There are still two days left. You'd get your chance with them at some point.

♥️

Sadly, the entirety of day two is spent indoors. Heavy sheets of rain continue to fall, muddying the shoreline. The three of you huddle on the sofa wrapped in blankets with subtitled movies playing in the background.

Even though you would've much rather been out exploring in the city, just sharing in your boyfriend's warmth would suffice for now. Akaashi hands you a steaming cup of something rich in both color and smell.

"What's this?"

"Just espresso." He takes the empty seat beside you.

You savor the taste while leaning against his shoulder. "Mm, nice."

Bokuto keeps his head on your lap, loving how you thread your fingers into his hair.

It is a tranquil kind of peace that soon lulls you to sleep.

Later, when you finally wake up, it's dark, and you're alone. A blanket had been tucked around your shoulders to shield you from the sudden chill. At some point, the television had been shut off along with every light in the room. You might've been a little scared if not for the voices coming from the second floor. Slowly, you creep up the winding staircase, dragging along the blanket around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Bokuto chuckles. "You're finally up!"

His hair is down, wet from his shower, and he holds a thin towel together around his waist. In his hand is a cellphone, and he doesn't hesitate to shove the screen into your face. "Say hi, Tetsu!"

"Hi Y/N, how's it going?"

You blink slowly, still trying to wake yourself up.

"Kuroo, hey… I'm well. How are you?"

"Great, just about to head out for a late lunch. I hear it's almost ten pm over there."

"Yeah, it's an eight-hour time difference."

You and Kuroo continue to chat while Bokuto towels off his hair and puts on clothes. Afterward, you let Bokuto resume his conversation and join Akaashi on the bed. The man had gone full editor-mode with his glasses propped up in his hair as he read through some work documents.

When you approach, he greets you with a kiss on the cheek. "You look well-rested."

"Is that your way of telling me I have drool on my cheek, Keiji?"

He cracks a tiny smile, eyes taking in your features, then he pokes your cheek with his index finger. "Perhaps."

You scrub the corners of your mouth with your sleeve and drape yourself over Akaashi, work be damned. This was supposed to be a special weekend for relaxing.

"I really wanted to go to the beach today." You pout.

Akaashi interlocks his fingers with yours. "Maybe we still can. It stopped raining a few hours ago."

"Really?!"

You hop off the bed and head for the window. He's right, the rain had long stopped, and the beach lay bare, lit by only the moonlight.

Maybe a short walk to the beach would do you some good.

♥️

The grains of sand feel cold against your feet without the sun to beat down on them, but you don't complain. The air is humid enough on its own that you forgo wearing actual clothes and instead wear a swimsuit along with Bokuto's old Fukurōdani windbreaker.

You walk along the shore, toes digging into the sand, letting the ocean waves lap at your feet to wash them clean again.

At first, it's so eerily quiet without a soul around except you, but even that doesn't last long. You hear Bokuto's voice bellow into the night as he jogs towards you in nothing but swim trunks. Behind him, Akaashi trails slowly after with a blanket in hand.

"We thought you might want some company." He says and spreads the cover on the sand several feet away from the water, content with just watching.

Bokuto grabs your hand and you go running to the water with him, but a second later, you both come sprinting back.

"It's freezing!"

"S-So co-co-cold!"

You collapse on top of him, fingers splayed across his bare chest. However, when you try to sit up, Bokuto has other plans. He keeps you pressed to his chest with both arms around your waist.

"Let me keep you warm, baby!"

You know he meant it in the most innocent way, but you can't help but think other thoughts. Your nerves fray at the image that blooms in your head and spreads like wildfire.

And as Akaashi strokes your back, you know he's probably read your mind.

It's the way your eyes seem to glitter with want that gives it away. Akaashi has always been rather observant, and so your silent cues are something he's always been privy to.

His nimble fingers curve around the nape of your neck, and he tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss. This one is unlike the one from yesterday. There is no rush, no desire to quicken his haste; instead, he savors the taste of you like it's something to be thoroughly enjoyed.

Underneath you, Bokuto stirs, growing aroused at the sight of his two lovers' kiss. He can't decide whether he wants to join in or sit back and watch. But his large hand comes down to stroke your ass, resulting in a moan you breathe directly into Akaashi's mouth.

"You're not usually so forthcoming, Keiji," you whisper against his lips. "Eager, are we?"

Akaashi pulls away just enough to pepper your face in feathery kisses. "Can you blame me? When I have such a lovely girlfriend here."

As if confirming his words, he slips a hand under your jacket and cups your breast. The pads of his thumb brush along the seams of your bathing suit, caressing your nipple.

"Kou, let's show Y/N just how much we love her, yes?"

Bokuto didn't need to be told twice. He had been in entranced by you and Akaashi, completely taken by the way your lips danced upon one another. But now, he wanted more than anything to touch you, kiss you, hold you.

Bokuto cradles you in his lap, propping your legs open with his knees so Akaashi can kneel in front of you. It didn't take much for him to relieve you of your clothing, namely your swimming bottoms. But the second the air hits your bare cunt, you feel tense.

You aren't sure what it was, but the atmosphere is different. Both Akaashi and Bokuto are so focused on you, it feels like you're under a spotlight.

"You're so pretty, so beautiful," Bokuto says while squeezing your thighs. His warm breath tickles your ear as he presses his nose into your neck. Next, his lips follow suit. "Wanna fuck you, so bad baby. You'd like that, right?"

His words earn him a chuckle from Akaashi, who merely licks two of his fingers, wetting them and sliding into you. Your mouth parts, shaky breaths barely expelled from your lungs. You're hyper-aware of the fact that you're literally being fingered on a beach in the middle of the night, and you can't bring yourself to care. It feels good to be pampered by the two men you love.

For every moan, Akaashi gives you double for your efforts, thrusting his fingers just right, curving them in such a way that has your back arching off Bokuto, who has also taken to fondling your nipples. With every roll of his hips, you feel his cock against your ass, and it pushes you further into Akaashi's fingers.

Your impending orgasm sweeps by so close and yet so far away. All you can do is rock yourself faster.

"Please," you whimper. "W-Wanna come."

Akaashi crooks his fingers, pressing into the perfect spot that sends you hurtling over the edge. Your cunt spasms around his fingers, clenching in intervals you have no control over until his hand is coated with your wet, slick juices that keep coming the more you squirt all over him.

"She's so wet 'Kaashi. Look at our pretty girl."

Akaashi places a chaste kiss on your forehead with a smile.

"She's doing well, so far. Let's see if she can keep going."

Bokuto shimmies his shorts off enough to free his hard cock. He had been uncharacteristically patient until now, but that was soon to change as he lines himself up with your cunt, teasing you with just the tip.

Your whining is unintelligible, but both men understand you more or less.

"Give the pretty girl what she wants," Akaashi says. He strokes his own hard-on at the sight of Bokuto's pushing past your wet folds. "I know she can take more than that."

Bokuto has always been girthy, and it takes you more than a few seconds to adjust to his size, but when you finally do, it feels like heaven.

The position you're in gives Bokuto all the power to thrust into you like a ragdoll. But it's only when you make eye contact with Akaashi that you realize that it's, in fact, the other way around for him in particular. From where he sits, stroking his cock with flushed cheeks and choked moans, you see just how much control you have over him.

"Kiss me." You moan.

Akaashi doesn't let you repeat yourself. He kisses you long and hard even as you grip his throat with one hand and his hair with the other. He kisses you until his lips are red and bruised.

"Good boy. Both of y-you."

Bokuto groans loudly. "Say it again. Keep saying it!"

"Y-You're both so good. I-" your hips stutter against Akaashi's fingers that are rubbing circles into your clit. "Good, so good-"

That's all it takes to take Bokuto over the edge, blowing his load. "Perfect, so fucking perfect."

You can feel another orgasm swelling up inside your belly. You try to tell them but can't, too overcome by the feeling of your body tingling with desire. It's too much, overwhelmingly so; your vision blurs with unshed tears as Bokuto continues to pound into sopping pussy. Pleasure floods every fiber of your being until you're limp and every nerve in your body is set alight.

Bokuto slips out of you easily, a string of his semen following.

You can only look on in a drowsy haze as Bokuto leans over and kisses you and then Akaashi, working him over with a tight fist.

♥️

The following morning, you’re the first to wake, but only because there’s a limb jammed into your back and a heavy weight on your chest. It takes you a moment to realize, but it’s Bokuto’s elbow poking you and Akaashi’s head resting on you.

All three of you are a tangle of limbs in bed, but you aren’t sure how you’d gotten there.

“G’mornin’” Bokuto breathes. His lips caress the column of your neck.

“Morning.”

You shift into a more comfortable position. Though doing so presses Akaashi’s morning wood against your thigh.

“Keiji, you awake yet?”

“Mmm barely.” Akaashi looks up at you through his lashes, then smiles and nuzzles closer into your chest.

Bokuto, content with being your big spoon, reaches over to touch Akaashi, hands cupping his cheek. “It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“That’s true, should we do something special.”

Thinking about the previous night, you feel desire stirring in your gut. “Could we just... do it again?”

Both men look to each other then back at you, sporting matching smiles.

“Why not?”

#bokuaka x reader #bokuto x reader #koutarou bokuto x reader #akaashi x reader #keiji akaashi x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu smut

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