#THIS WAS A HUGE ‘SEAT OF MY PANTS’ TYPE DRAWING

[starheirxero]

All gods have to start their fall from grace somewhere…

A few close-ups under the cut :3

[maren-gvf]

Good

Jake One-Shot

jake kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDI, smut, cursing, a little bit of drinking, general foreplay, !protected! p in v sex, teen Jake (18 give or take) (I know this isn't what teenage Jake looked like, but I don't feel comfortable using those pics)

Lemme know if I missed any warnings 😙

A/n: writing bc of writer's block! anyways, I really love this type of Jake fic so I wanted to make my own. I hope u enjoy!

Your phone buzzes as you pull into the Kiszka's driveway.

Josh: are u almost here?

You take out your phone and text him back.

You: Yeah I just pulled into ur driveway

Josh: k u can just come inside

Josh: the door's open

You: kk

You get out of your car, grabbing the Walmart bag full of supplies and your backpack. He was right, the front door was unlocked. You felt weird just letting yourself in, but it's whatever.

Josh is sitting at their dining room table when you walk into the foyer. He's drawing something on the huge piece of white poster paper he got for the project.

"Hey!" He greets you, looking up at you.

"Hey!" You say back, setting the bag on the wooden table. You start taking out your computer.

"How's the research coming along?" Josh asks, continuing to draw what looks like plants.

"Well," you start, pulling up the shared Google doc, "I found a lot out about the different organisms you'd find in a rainforest, but that's about it," you say, letting him scroll around.

"It looks good," he compliments. "Very informative."

"What about you?" You ask, grabbing a blue marker and walking over to the other side of the table to start on the fonts.

"I've done a couple things," he says.

"By that you mean you've done nothing," you say, giving him a look.

"Okay it's not my fault," he starts, putting the cap on the green marker he was using, "Jake needs me to sing for his band, so I haven't really had the time to do anything."

"Jake has a band?" You ask, looking up at him.

"You talking about me, Josh?" That familiar voice says. His familiar raspy tone crackled through your ears.

"I was just telling Y/n about your band," Josh says, grabbing another marker, "and how I never have time for school because of your ass."

Jake laughs to himself which makes you go momentary blind. You breathe in deeply, trying to ignore him even though his presence looms over you like a thick blanket.

He's not wearing a shirt, only some long pajama pants. He pops the cap of his beer on the edge of the table and takes a seat which makes his bicep muscles come out a bit. He wasn't very muscular, but leaner. You could see a faint outline of abs when he walked over to his seat.

Fucking hell.

"You interested or something?" He asks you, his stare burning into the side of your head.

You knew Jake only because of Josh. You weren't necessarily close with either of them, but your parents were good friends. You saw Jake around school and only had one class with him in Junior year. Josh was in your biology class which got you paired up together.

"I didn't know you played," you say, continuing to write, unable to look at him.

"Hm," he takes a swing of his beer, "well maybe you could come watch us some time."

"Maybe..." you say, nervously coloring in your letters.

Josh's phone dings, "Oh shit! I'm supposed to go pick up Sam from Danny's," he says. "Are you good to hang here by yourself and work on it?"

I have to stay here with Jake?

"Um, yeah, I'll be fine!" You say, watching him gather up his keys.

"Okay, and Jake leave her alone!" He yells, exiting the house. The front door slams and you're left there alone with Jake.

You continue your work, ignoring Jake who's very obviously looking at you as he drinks his beer.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" He asks.

"Why would you think that?" You ask, finally making eye contact with him which was a clear mistake.

"Well for one, your face is all red, and two, you're obviously trying to avoid me," he says, leaning back on the chair. His legs open a little.

"You definitely don't make me nervous," you say, your voice a little bit shaky because he does actually make you nervous.

"You're such a bad liar," he says, laughing to himself once again, a stupid smirk on his face.

"What are you doing here anyways?" You ask, now looking into his eyes.

"Uh, this is my house," he says, crossing his arms with a slight tilt of his eyebrows. You ignore his comment, feeling a little embarrassed.

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you. He's standing so close you can smell his body wash and the slight lingering scent of his shampoo. You feel like you're going to faint any second. He's so overwhelming to look at, you wanna burst into dust or flames or something!

"I've always had a thing for you, you know?" He says, reaching across your line of sight to grab a red marker.

You stand up, looking directly at him, "What?"

"Yeah," he leans on the table, twirling the red marker in his hand, "I've always thought you were beautiful and you have a cute personality." He tilts his head towards you a little bit.

He's so casual about it, you think you're dreaming. He moves a little closer to you. Your heart races uncontrollably. Your hands instinctively land on his chest. His eyebrows raise in satisfaction like that was his plan.

"Can I?" He says in a low voice, putting his hands on your waist as he walks you backward out of the dining room.

You gulp, nodding your head as you maintain eye contact with him.

He stops you in the dark hallway, pressing you gently against the wall as his hand slides up your shirt. His other hand holds your jaw, lifting your chin up slightly.

Please don't let this be a dream!

He brings his lips down to yours, kissing you gently before adding more pressure. His lips are so soft, you melt right into them. His tongue parts your lips, slowly sliding into your mouth. He tastes incredible. The kiss slowly becomes more needy, your hands going into his hair.

His lips disconnect from yours, traveling down your jaw and latching on your neck. He gently sucks at the skin enough to give you pleasure but not enough to leave a mark.

"Fuck me," you barely say, your hands traveling down his warm, tanned skin to reach the waistband of his pajama pants.

"I will, baby, I will," he breathes, kissing your lips again.

He moves you down the hall and into a room that you could only assume was his. He strips you of your shirt before you lay down on the bed. He takes your shorts off, tossing them to the floor, leaving you only in your bra and underwear.

What am I doing right now?

He separates your legs as he lays himself in between them. He kisses your lips before undoing your bra and adding it to the pile of clothes.

"You're gorgeous," he says, breathing heavily. "I need you."

"I've needed you more," you breathe out.

He slides your underwear off, leaving you completely naked under him. He slides two fingers into your wetness. He slides his fingers inside of you. You immediately hold onto him, your mouth open a little bit. He pumps them in and out of you.

"Holy shit," you moan, connecting your lips to his. His tongue distracts you from the amazing feeling he's building up inside of you.

"Jake-" you tilt your chin up.

"Come for me, baby," he says, continuing his motions as he plants kisses over your breasts.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck. He takes his fingers out of you.

"Jake, I need it, I need you to fuck me," you say, breathless.

"I know," he says, opening his nightstand and taking out a condom. He strips himself of his pajama pants, slipping the condom around his dick. He crawls on top of you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He situates himself in front of your entrance before slipping inside of you.

"All this for me?" He smirks, lightly thrusting in and out of you. Your arms wrap around his back, your fingers digging into his skin. Your breath hitches as he pulls in and out.

How'd I go from doing homework to being fucked?

He rests his head on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbone.

"Fuck, Y/n," he sighs, "you feel so good."

Your hands wrap around his biceps as he continues thrusting, "I'm almost there, Jake." You tightly shut your eyes, your hand flying down to grip the sheets. Both your bodies produce moans of pleasure that surround the room.

Your second orgasm approaches. Jake fucks you through it as his own takes over him. He releases himself, “Fuck,” he moans into the crook of your neck.

He pulls out falling to the side of you.

“Holy shit,” you laugh, covering your mouth. Both your breathing is rapid.

“Y/n!” You both hear Josh shout from the living area.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you say, scrambling off the bed and getting yourself dressed. Jake puts his pajama pants back on.

“Wait,” he says, holding the door closed, “I meant what I said in the dining room. I do… really like you.”

You smile, tucking some hair behind your ear, “I really like you too, Jake.”

“Good.��

“Good.”

[songs-about-girls-like-me]

chapter 7: the school camp pt.3, my ego balancing

We're still at the disco. After a bunch of songs, I thought I could sit down for a second and I found my way to these two steps where I had spent almost all night people-watching two years ago, when I was in 3rd grade. Then Max, a girl who was never seen with her hair down and was kind of an asshole, sat next to me. "You seem like you're enjoying yourself" She said it as if she could make me feel bad about my dancing. She knew I was in Jazz and that I took it seriously. "I am!" I smiled, acting as if I didn’t even noticed the mocking undertone. "Fair… you look kiiiinda cool, Rees" My ego was through the roof and I couldn't help but feel great about myself and my cool vibe and my cool dancing. I hadn’t expected anyone to say anything about it. Now I thought maaaaybe more people had maaaybe noticed. I grinned, unable to have a less conceited reaction. It was this type of comments what made me think Max wasn't just an asshole at all Times. Even if our first interaction ever had literally been her, questioning and making fun of something I'd drawn for our first primary school activity, a picture of our summer vacation. My drawing was great may I add, even if I had to hide it away from her and her friends (who had become friends just 10 minutes earlier). The drawing was still up on my wall cause I had really actually liked it. "What? Are you not having fun?" I said teasing her back, knowing this was the type of thing she'd despise. "I hate these things" She looked at me and understood I was being sarcastic and had outsmarted her. We laughed and then I forced her to stand up and dance with the bunch of our girl classmates. Ella included, obviously.

A song called “Chiquetere” played next, and our teacher sang it and we all cheered for him which was very random and very fun and almost "epic" cause we were 10, and I had a great laugh. Then when we went back to the dorm, the only person I managed to have as my partner to share the twin bunk beds with was one of our 20something year old camp instructors. Which balanced my ego just enough. The next day, we had the best spaghetti bolognese ever and I almost pissed my pants laughing during lunch just cause our table of classmates was that fun. Later that evening, I was the literal worst shooting an arrow cause my aim was so shit (I was 1 out of the 2 idiots who got the arrow to hit the grass intead of the huge foam target in front of us). And then at night, I was on the edge of my seat the whole Time during the bonfire cause I had a deep disgust towards this specific food and had to stay 10 metters away from anyone who had made contact with it, except Ella who I let sit just one metter away from me. I would've felt lonely if I wasn't so anxious, but I was still annoyed. I managed to have some roasted marshmallows and Ella would come sit a couple steps away from Time to Time so we could chat. She would also ask people to just leave if they got a bit too close to me. She was a real trooper, I was really glad that she understood and would yell at people for me lol.

The last morning there, I was the literal best on the last game of the camp, where we had to balance while sitting on top of a trash can type thing which was hanging transversally from a rope. It was supposed to be a wild horse, and it just tilted and turned every way the second you even touched it, throwing you to the ground on top of a pile of dry pine needles with a big thump. Ella had been better than average on it and I was ready to try my best too. When I sat on top of it and lifted my feet from the ground, I didn't move one bit and I was so surprised I thought I had done something wrong or maybe I was cheating somehow unintentionally. But I was not and I was able to stay completely still for 3 whole seconds there, and I heard a little "oh" coming from my classmates and I was also in shock of my balance. Then the thing started moving and I still got a couple more seconds up there when I used all my hands-legs coordination. Everyone was counting out loud and when I hit the ground on my back, it had been 5 whole seconds, almost 6, which was a lot. I stood up with a victory smile on my face, feeling all the pine needles getting through the knit in my clothes to my skin. My classmates cheered on for me just as they did for everyone else and some even said it had been cool. I overheard that girl called Max, the asshole, telling her friends and everyone around her that the only reason I was so good at it, was the fact that I was "so skinny". I just rolled my eyes. I knew that was not how gravity works cause even a baby would make it tilt, and it had actually been my great balance and coordination. I didn’t care to correct her but I over confirmed the fact that they were dumb. Also, Ella and I were already busy talking about how we both had been the best and then our conversation trailed off to BarbieGirl.com and making up stories about our new avatar game we were obsessed with (wait for next chapter to understand this last bit).

My family arrived a bit late but I didn't mind cause the atmosphere with my classmates still felt really exciting after spending so many days together. I told a story about my sister getting caught in a hotel elevator doors when she was very little and how funny it was when the doors opened on her perfectly without hurting her cause she was wearing a floatie and everyone was laughing hard at the story. Even the older lady in charge of the camp was hearing and was laughing with her eyes closed. I really felt great when I got the punch line right when telling a story, and people were asking me to re-tell the last bit. When my family arrived, I ran to hug them, and even my grandmother was there. The afternoon light was blue but it didn't rain, and I loved it. My sisters and I had so much horchata to drink, and I also had many slices of cake on napkins. My dad kept asking me to bring him another cake slice on a napkin and it was so fun asking "chocolate or vanilla?" and going choose one slice for him. I showed my parents around the woods and the dorm, even if my sister and myself had already showed them around years before. I could really "talk nineteen to the dozen", so I could be a talking nightmare after weekends like this.

[princettegil]

Have I been measuring wrong all these years? Or am I just that oddly shaped?

Things are always too long yet too big in the waist/hips while simultaneously being too tight in the crotch and too low in the back. Tight in the chest but too big on the waist. Too tight in the upper sleeves and shoulders but too long and loose on the longer part of the sleeves. And yet, I have rarely encountered any issues in store-bought clothing (other than the standard trouble finding larger sizes and petite/short, yet wide, pants.) Perhaps it's because they tend to use materials that have stretch? Or is there something different in the sizing of particular areas of store-bought clothes? Something that just making things specific to your individual measurements is harder to grasp for tailors/seamstresses that don’t have your physical body to work with? How should I go about getting sizes for these people? I’m short but big. I have huge upper arms but little, tiny wrists and hands. Giant calves but average feet. I had top surgery so I don’t have any breasts anymore, but I do have a very large stomach roll that is bigger than my hips and yet, no butt to speak of!

I get so annoyed seeing people with normal body types (and not just the skinny ones, but larger ones with more evenly shaped bodies as well.) They can order their cosplay or have it made and their stuff still fits correctly. It may be much harder for my plus-sized compatriots, but I see plenty who still have their pieces fitting right on their bodies even when it’s clear they didn’t make the outfit themselves. They have arm and leg pieces that don’t stand out like some awkward clunky mess. Tops and bottoms that are snug but don’t look to be too uncomfortable. Their pants stay up and don’t give them extreme camel toe or turn into a thong up their butt crack. Their upper pieces aren’t bagging on their bodies like trash bags. Shoes and boots that actually fit their calves instead of hanging loose and falling down or being too tight to squeeze into.

So I can’t help but wonder – am I really shaped that strangely? Is my body that fucked up looking? Or do I just suck at measuring myself accurately so that the outfits can be made correctly even when I can’t physically be where the person making the outfit is? I’ve tried making the measurements as detailed as possible, even drawing out my body shape and giving as many measurements of different areas as I can. I even measured the seat, length of crotch and rise of several pairs of my pants since those are always the most likely to not fit! And yet I still get outfits that hang off me in places and are too tight in others, pants that I have to pull up to my chest yet keep falling off or are too low and slide off my ass despite digging up my butt crack at the same time! Shoulders so tight I can barely move and feel like I’ll bust out of them like the Hulk and boots that either dig into my legs when I sit or fall off them when I stand!

If anyone has ANY advice – please help!

[madewithspice]

Eren Yeager Headcanons part 2

For Eren’s birthday but I was sick so it’s a day late

Eren likes to draw tattoos with Sharpies because the pain and commitment of a real one is too much for him.

He’s a car guy for sure. Treats his car like his baby, always argues with Connie and Jean over whose car is better.

Does the hot thing guys do where they drape their arm over the passenger seat while reversing 😏

Also sticks his arm out the window while driving.

Eren is the world’s heaviest sleeper. Nothing can wake him up and nothing ever will. Sleeps like a log through the whole night, won’t budge from where he falls asleep.

I feel like he’d be a secret K-drama fan. Just a sucker for the soppy romance stories and cliche shit.

The type of guy who acts big and tough but really acts out a whole story to Taylor Swifts’s Love story. In his defence he thought he was home alone.

He’s a huge fan of physical touch whether it’s hugs and kisses when he sees you or if it’s just holding onto your pinky as you two walk or him just leaning his entire body weight onto your side.

This man doesn’t check the time before he calls anyone. No “are you free?” texts beforehand, just straight up dials anyone. It could be 4am in the morning but he won’t care. You could be in the middle of an important exam or interview, he just doesn’t care. And it’ll just be to ask where you are because he’s fucking clingy like that.

Eren lives in graphic T-shirts and hoodies. You’ll never see him in anything else. He’ll pair them with shorts and occasionally cargo pants.

Football player Eren plays well with his team mates until they start losing then he won’t pass to anyone and will act like he’s a one man team. He’s crazy competitive. Gets into a strop if his team doesn’t win.

He’s a Manchester United fan since the old days of Ronaldo and Ferdinand etc.

His favourite downtime activity is sitting between your legs as you play with and braid his hair.

I would do more but my head is killing me

-Kiki.

[samuclit]

warnings: miya atsumu x female!reader, you guys are fwbs, 1.2K words of fluff and little smut, vaginal fingering, boob sucking and uh how do I tag this, lol.

wrote this last night when my boob hurts like shit because I’m on my period and I was really horny, take care of your boobs ladies because atsumu won’t be there to take care of yours. Read the article here!

"My boob hurts" you say, left hand clutching at your right boob, pressing your warm palms with extra pressure at your fingers to ease the pain. 

Atsumu, your. What do we call him. 

Your sex partner, company at lonely nights, sometimes lunch buddy when work gets overbearing and sometimes your grocery runner when you got too lazy to put on your bras and better-looking pants to buy a box of cereal, yours and Atsumu favourite.

It should be just you enjoying that cereal but Atsumu, who's enjoying the sexcapade, as he jokingly said one time when he wants to be inches deep buried inside you, said that the cereal wasn't too bad when soaked with the right type of milk. So you have to share it with him as long as he helps you with stuff you might need help with.

One of the help is probably comfort for a work-obsessed woman in her early 20s when she felt a bit lonely. You, it's you who we're talking about. 

"What was that?" Atsumu, whose face is buried in the pillow he claimed was his now, result of visiting too frequently for the 'sexcapade', is now pulled up to face you.

You side-eyed and saw him smirking like a piece of shit he always is because he loves to tease you and flirt with you despite the boundaries he set on his own, not that you disagree but sometimes, you take it as a challenge that will make you say 'fuck' when steps are at disarray. 

"I said my boob hurts." You glared at him now. Expecting him to tackle you and have him drape his whole naked body on you by now. 

"You're on your period?" Atsumu asked, face now covered in concern.

"Um no, I finished a week ago, probably the ovulation or something." You whimpered at the growing pain near your armpit, hand sliding under your shirt, well, his shirt, to massage and fondle it on your own, releasing a little moan you hoped he might notice just so he can get a hint. 

"Let me check." You closed your eyes to wait for his pretty setter fingers to trail on your abdomen, his favourite non-sexual thing to do just to make you laugh on one of your sad days.

His hand didn't come at all, and you opened your eyes to see him scrolling the Internet, presumably to have answers to his and your question.

Why do women's boobs hurt?

You scoffed and smacked at his biceps, but still managed to heave a small giggle at his question all while sliding close to his warm body, pressing your side at him while bending your legs to brush your toes at his calves.

"You could have typed 'is it normal for a woman's chest to hurt' instead of saying boobs like a pervert, you dumbass!" You quote unquote so he could get the message.

"I do not have women's boobs, and mine doesn't hurt. Just helping you, princess." 

Atsumu gasped when he saw an article from Healthline.

"Ah look, an article from Healthline, your favourite old hag magazine site." Atsumu teased, his giggles resonating too loud all the way to your eardrums and the erratic beating of your chest, the pain in your right boob slowly subsiding. 

"This old hag magazine site saved your clumsy ass when you bruised your head the other day." You retorted, head still inclined to read the article he clicked. 

"Whatever, I know first-aid better than you. Ah look there's a lot of causes." Atsumu mocked you, using his sexy fingers to pinch at your cheeks, earning a loud 'ouch' from you.

"Hm, it said here 'hormonal fluctuations, you might have the pain either 2 or 3 days before your menstruation or the entire time during your cycle' yeah. Other causes might be puberty, pregnancy and menopause" Atsumu read.

You paused.

"You're...not pregnant are you?" Atsumu turned to his side to look at your surprised face, expecting a quick answer from you.

"No. I don't— I don't think so?" Atsumu pushed his arms on the bed to lift himself up and you turned your body so you could lay down properly.

"Did you check? We haven't had protected sex for a long time so I'm just curious." Atsumu seated himself properly on the bed, one of his hands finally reached to your abdomen under the double-barrier that is your huge comforter and his shirt to draw shapes and do belly rubs.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not...I don't have early symptoms….and I'm very strict with my pills, mind you." you sighed, hands reaching for your locks to brush your own hair for reassurance. 

"Okay, I believe in you" Atsumu smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. His fingers travelled to your jawlines, to your reddening cheeks, to the sore lips you had after the earlier makeout session on your couch. 

Atsumu finally hovered above you, hands grasping at every detail of your beautiful face, slowly trailing down to your hips. 

"Your boob still hurts?" You giggled at his smile. 

"It hurts less than before. I think it's just being dramatic, needing some attention perhaps."

You sucked in an air when his expression darkens, changed to the familiar animalistic side of Atsumu that could make you scream in pleasure.

"I'll give it the attention it wants then" Atsumu pulled the comforter in a haste and undressed you, desperate to see you naked. 

Atsumu and his, rather respectful demeanors to not delve in too quickly is what made you clung to him, never wanting to let go.

"Are you sure it's okay?" Atsumu asked and you nodded eagerly. Atsumu kissed you, both of your hands pinned to the bed, trapping you under his large muscular body. 

It turned hot in a second, his lips neglected yours to prioritise the situation at hand, his hands, now that he let go of one of your hands so he could fondle and tweak your left nipples while sucking on the right boob, the root problem.

Though, you would call it a blessing.

"Ngh— Atsu...please just fuck me" you gasped in small breath, feeling your folds getting wet by his hot body venturing yours.

Atsumu didn't waste time to descend his wandering fingers to explore your caverns, hitting right to the spot that he knows will make you cum quickly. 

He's practically making out with your nipple, pulling slightly to gain a reaction and sometimes pressing on your clit with his rough thumb to earn another wanton scream out of your mouth. 

His finger went inside and out and your hands scrambled to grip at his biceps to steady yourself, legs dipping your bed before you reach your peak, cumming on his fingers.

Atsumu plopped at your side and you creeped your way inside his hold, as you usually did when the sex ended. 

"Your boob hurts and then it leads to me fingering you huh?" You hid your face in his chest, blushing at the earlier activity you did. Atsumu giggled and rubbed at your back while he hugs you. 

"Tomorrow morning my dick will hurt, so you better think of a way to make it feel better when you sleep, hm?" You glared at him.

"Yes sir, I will. Goodnight Atsumu, my head hurts, by the way". You put a finger to his face.

Atsumu kissed your forehead and lulls you to sleep. "Goodnight princess" you heard his snores right after.

You won't mind if your boobs hurt in the future, Atsumu and a Healthline article would help solve your problem

[rextasywrites]

Aftershow - Leon Kennedy x f!reader

with the help of some tricks and your best friend distracting the security guard, you manage to sneak into the after show of the world premiere of “Resident Evil - Infinite Darkness”. It tells the story of federal Agent Leon S. Kennedy, who, after retiring from his career as a federal agent, decided to tackle acting. Ever since you first saw him in “Resident Evil 2”, you were in love with him and couldn’t wait to meet him. So...what would happen at this afterparty?

hey lads i’m back! i hope you enjoy this piece i have been writing the past few days! hope you are doing well xoxo

Warnings: alcohol, smut, Leon being an ass to others sometimes

Your dress clung to your body, making you feel like some overstuffed sausage. It was physically and mentally out of your comfort zone, but your best friend insisted you looked like a million bucks in it, so you begrudgingly purchased it a week before. “But you look fantastic,” your best friend reassured  you when you stood before your mirror earlier that night, awkwardly, tugging at the fabric by your hipsMaybe she was right, but currently she was busy with the security guard to give you the chance to meet your idol and celebrity crush, Leon S. Kennedy. You had heard he’d attend the premiere, and posts on social media confirmed the rumours.Not that you’d ever admit to subscribing to notifications from him, though.

The place was filled with Hollywood executives, actors, and actresses from all over the planet, yet you hadn’t spotted your favourite so far. Maybe he was outside smoking? Busy spending time with fans and writing autographs? Who knew… So you made your way past some gossiping actress towards the bar. A simple Sex on the Beach would calm your nerves. You began to zone out as you sipped on the cocktail- that is, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“And I thought I had met everyone tonight.”

That voice. That fucking voice. You’d recognize it out of a million, and there he was.

On the barstool next to you sat Leon S. Kennedy, and he was touching you at this very moment.

Before you would answer, you chuckled and took a sip from the cocktail, buying your nerves some more time before you’d answer. “Guess not.”, you said and placed the glass on the bar in front of you. “I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you.”

“I’m Leon, but I’m sure you already knew that, nice to meet you too. (Y/N), what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Say, how is it possible that I haven’t spotted you before?”

Uh oh. Quick, think of something.

“Sorry, bad traffic,” you replied, directly quoting a line from his costar in Resident Evil 4. “But I’m here now, and just in time to celebrate you and your new show!”, you smiled and raised your glass, Leon clicking it together with his own beer glass. “Cheers.” You two took big sips from your beverages, Leon’s hand now gravitating towards your knee.

“Say, would you like to join me on the terrace? It’s getting so hot in here.”, Leon said and pointed towards an open door on the other side of the room. The mere thought of being able to spend more time with him made you agree with his idea, and a minute later you two were sitting on the terrace in a porch swing. Leon had bought you another drink. He was such a gentleman, just like you’d always imagined him.. From time to time, people came to congratulate Leon on the success of his new show, wanting to invite him for a drink or more rounds. Yet every time he declined it, saying he already had enough for the evening.

*

“You weren’t invited, were you?”, Leon asked after some conversation between you two. You had told him a bit about your life, your work, your pets. In return, Leon shared stories of the making of Infinite Darkness, funny bloopers and behind-the-scenes stories you otherwise would never hear. The party had died out by now, it being late and the night becoming colder. Telling him a lie wasn’t an option, so you sighed and nodded. “Thought so. You carry yourself differently.”, Leon said while he lit himself a cigarette, blowing the smoke into the night sky.

“What do you mean?”, confusion was written across your face. Carrying yourself differently?

“Hollywood wankers carry themselves with a confidence that could kill a mortal like us. They think they are invincible, but oh boy they are wrong. You don’t carry that energy about you. You don’t look the type.. How did you get in?”

“My best friend is buddies with the security guard and he owed her a favour.”

“You little minx.”, Leon laughed, taking another drag as his eyes rested on you, taking in your body in this dress you hated, yet in his eyes you were the most beautiful woman in the sea of botox and silicone tits. “If you promise not to spill the whole night on social media, I can show you a whole new world.”, and by the look in his eyes, you both knew the feeling was mutual

*

The penthouse Leon was renting for his stay in your city was more than just breathtaking. Standing by the front window, you could see the whole city, way beyond the city limits. In the bathroom was, next to a big bathtub, a jacuzzi, and an iced down champagne bucket right next to it. “In Hollywood, money has no meaning. You ever seen Wolf of Wall Street? They weren’t fuckin’ lying when they called money ‘fun coupons’”, he laughed when you first entered the penthouse and your eyes had nearly rolled out. The bedroom alone was bigger than your whole flat, the champagne in that goddamn bucket probably worth more than your rent

“If your eyes get any bigger they’ll fall out of your head!”, Leon laughed as he sat down on the huge sofa, the fireplace warming up the room to a comfortable degree. Yet the dress felt too tight, just ready to be taken off...or was that the alcohol speaking? Leon for the cigar box lying atop the coffee table. He offered you one, but you declined - you didn’t smoke, but the mere view of Leon with a big cigar between his lips, legs spread and dress shirt slightly unbuttoned...it went straight to your core, a view millions of women would kill for, presented in front of you. “Like what you see, little minx?”

“Would it be bad if I didn’t.”, you replied, trying to hide your nerves by being cocky. But Leon wasn’t having any of this. He could see through your mask, trying and failing to hide how badly you wanted to straddle his lap and kiss him senseless, seeing stars and whole new universes. Comes with being an ex cop and agent. No secrets could make it past his eyes.

“Come here”, were Leon’s simple words, yet they had an effect on you and your body, something you'd normally be ashamed to admit. You made your way over to Leon on the sofa and instead of sitting next to him, he patted on his lap. “I want you to be comfortable, and I bet you are the most comfortable on my lap. C’mon, it’s the best seat in the house.”, he smirked and...you couldn’t deny it. His thighs were comfortably big, years of hard training paying off in the form of muscle and rough skin under his suit pants.

You weren’t sure why your head felt like it was spinning - was it the alcohol or the intoxicating smell from Leon? A mixture of his unique scent: whiskey and his cologne, all in a cloud around your nose. You wished you would be able to smell him for the rest of your life. All you knew was that your body screamed for Leon, and his body screamed right back. “Here.”, Leon offered you the glass of scotch he had just poured for himself. “There are three types of liquor. Terrible, not so terrible, or do you want to impress people with your money?”, and with those words, he pressed his lips against yours.

*

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“And yet, here we are.”

*

Leon had picked you up after another glass or three of scotch, the way to his bedroom clear. You weren’t sure if it was the warmth from the scotch swelling in your chest or the way his muscular arms wrapped around you, but something in you was one wrong- or right- move away from melting away completely. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as well as possible. The slit on your dress helped you, but suddenly Leon stopped in his tracks. “Are you okay?”, you asked, placing a hand on his cheek, but he looked over the bedroom you two just entered… Suddenly he placed you back down on the floor, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it.

“I don’t think I’m gonna make it to the bed.”, he smirked , his soft hands moving down your sides, leaving goosebumps wherever they touched you. Your dress felt too tight, the room too hot - you needed to get out of it quickly! Leon watched your blush grow, this asshole smirk still on his lips. “I love how real you are.”, he muttered as he leaned in, brushing his lips over your pulse point, just enough to draw a soft gasp from your lips.

“What do you mean?”, you asked, puzzled. Leon just chuckled, “Haven’t you noticed? It’s all Photoshopped. All the women at the premiere had the same fucking ass. Same crooked lips from the same quack doctor. The same busted Botox faces, everywhere you go. Yet they think they’re hot shit.”, he whispered, hot air against your even hotter skin. “But you...look at you.”

And you did. You looked down on yourself and saw nothing but imperfections. You looked back to Leon with a frown but he just laughed, “Hollywood is suffocating as fuck, but you’re like a breath of fresh air.. Look at you! You even have stretch marks! I haven’t seen real stretch marks since I put my first step into a studio!”, Leon took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he said his next sentence, “And I want you so fucking badly.”

*

Only minutes later, Leon had marked you up, hickeys and little bites of pleasure and need covering your upper body, whatever part he could reach. The dress was long gone and you laid on the bed, watching Leon unbuttoning his dress shirt. Underneath the white fabric was a body riddled with scars and old, badly healed wounds. Each and every single one could tell a story you were ready to hear, but right now, all you wanted was Leon and only Leon. And he needed you too.

“Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”, Leon asked as his hands reached behind you, undoing your bra with a simple movement. This man had disarmed bombs before, of course a bra wouldn’t cause him much trouble. “Look at you…”, he repeated once more once your bra was thrown across the room, landing on some random piece of furniture. You blushed under his hungry eyes, him taking in what would be his in mere minutes. “Spread your legs. I wanna taste you.”

*

You had an iron grip on Leon’s hair, bucking your hips to meet his touch. More, more, more! You needed more! While Leon’s tongue teased your entrance, he used his hand to hold you down, keeping you in place like the good girl that you had been. Well, had been until his tongue first licked up your folds, taking in the sweetness of your juices. Leon had consumed many different liquors in his life, but only your sweet juices could rival ambrosia, sending his drunken mind into another plane of existence.

“Leon!”, you moaned out the moment his calloused finger brushed over your clit. It had been begging for attention, but Leon - that dick - kept on lapping up your juices, sucking and nibbling carefully on your folds. The movements of his fingers were in a steady rhythm with the ones of his tongue, making your head spin once more. He knew how to play you like a fiddle, making you putty in his hands.

But before you could cum, Leon pulled away, his face covered in your sweet fluids and he licked over his lips with an obscene sound and a dirty smirk on his lips. “I can’t wait to fuck you ‘til you scream my name.”

*

The condom was put on quickly. Magnum, of course. What else would a guy like him need? The first stroke inside of you made you see stars for the third time in less than an hour, what an impact this man had on you. Leon was still inside of you, not moving until you were adjusted to his size, especially his girth. “You okay?”, he asked, to which you gave him a soft nod. “Yeah, I’ll be alright. It’s just… fuck, you’re big..”

Leon’s ego beamed at your words, and once you gave him the okay to continue, it was very hard for him to hold back in any way. You were too tight, too sweet, making him nearly burst on the spot. Instead, his mind wandered...but you were always part of those thoughts.

The wet noises of sex, lust, and unadulterated passion filled the room, along with soft panting and groans coming from you two, a noise as old as humankind. Your arms were tightly wrapped around Leon’s body, leaving behind tiny marks when you needed to hold onto him, your nails digging into his skin. Leon hissed at the stings but fuck, knowing you were marking him up too made him even harder, harder than he had ever been.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”, Leon moaned against your neck and buried his head there for a moment. All you could do was nod in agreement, not trusting your voice anymore. Leon reached down at this, pressing his palm between you two, against your clit. You needed this feeling, you were begging for your release.

*

“Come on, cum for me.”, Leon growled when he felt the first contractions around his cock. The needy undertone of his voice was the last thing you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Leon!”, you moaned and came around him, stilling in your movements. Leon rocked his hips a few more times before his own release overcame him, spilling into the condom as you milked him inside of you. It felt too good to be true, but Leon was real.

Once your high started to fade and the contractions lessened, Leon leaned in for a quick kiss, stealing it from your open lips as you tried to catch your breath again. You smiled up to him, loosening your grip around him. “That was great.”, you smiled and Leon dropped next to you after pulling out.

*

In the early morning hours, you woke up to an empty bed. Leon’s side was cold and you sat up, looking around in confusion. Where was he? He wouldn’t leave you alone, would he? Finally, you spotted him on the balcony and you quickly threw on one of the jackets laying around along with your panties.

“Good morning.”, you smiled at Leon, who was taking a drag from his cigarette. He greeted you while blowing the hot smoke out, then held up his arm, offering you a place next to him. You happily agreed, leaning against his warm body in the fresh morning hours.

“I’d love to see you again.”, Leon said after he exhaled another drag, looking down at you. This took you by surprise - why would he? You weren’t special at all, just a mere fan who managed to get into his penthouse suite with a lot of luck and cleavage. He grabbed his phone from the table next to him, offering you the open contact list, “I’d love to take you out on a few dates and such. Spend time with you. What do you think? Wanna give me your number?”

[woodolly]

mommy

Wolfstar (Remus Lupin and Sirius Black) x reader

Dom! Sirius x Sub! Remus x Switch! Reader

Rated- E (explicit)

Words- 1180

Warning- SMUT (Remus has a very big mommy kink, Remus gives Sirius a blowjob, Face Sitting, Minor Bondage, Hand job, Vaginal sex), I did not proof read this

Summary- Remus just wants one on one time with you but Sirius keeps getting in the way causing Remus to lash back at him

It had been a while since you and Remus had one on one time together, being in a poly relationship with Sirius didn't leave much time for the two of you to be alone — either all of you were together or one of you was with Sirius.

It wasn't much of a secret that Remus was more loving and affectionate towards you, yes he loves the two of you equally (except when Sirius was being an asshole or giving him a harsh punishment, in that case, he loved you a bit more), but there was something about your touch that was more caring, gentle, and more loving than Sirius’s — also the fact that you didn't punish him often and would talk Sirius into not giving him as harsh punishment helped. A simpler way to describe Remus’s love for the two of you is that he wanted to be Sirius’s slut but he wanted to be your good boy. When Sirius called him a slut he blushed but when you did it he felt ashamed and disappointed in himself.

Remus loved being with Sirius but sometimes he just wanted to be with you his mommy and one of those times were now.

So here the two of you were a cute cuddle session turned into Remus whimpering beneath you as you rode him, bouncing up and down on his cock. Remus never had felt happier to get a good grade on his test as if it wasn't for that you wouldn't be riding him as a reward for being a good boy. One of his hands were on your waist holding onto you and the other was playing with your breast and nipples, tracing small patterns on them and occasionally pinching your nipple very softly, he would never pinch it enough to hurt you or even startle you — he was your good boy after all. The amount of pleasure you were giving him felt so good it almost made him cry, but he didn't he just whimpered a bunch of mommys, as you bounced quicker in his cock, his whole cock fit inside you so well, like he was made for you.

“My turn,” Remus’s happiness disappeared in an instant as he lifted his head slightly to lock eyes with Sirius as he walked over to the two of you, lifting you off Remus’s cock and on your back, quickly removing his pants and boxers to line his already hard cock to your wet pussy. Looking up at you for consent, you nod and he enters you causing both of you to moan loudly.

“NO!” Remus shouted, causing Sirius to stop instantly looking at the angry boy.

“I want MY mommy,” Remus began “You can’t take her away from me like that. It’s not fair you always have her, never get her to myself,” he complains. Sirius stared at him, anger appeared in his eyes, Remus gulps knowing he made a huge mistake talking back to one of his Doms. As you stare at Remus partly in shock and partly in pity.

“Excuse me?” Sirius states sternly, his hand reaches to grab his neck, Sirius’s cock still inside you.

“Do you think you can call the shots now?” Sirius asked, his hand gripping Remus's neck tighter but not enough to cause him any major pain.

“Yes,” Remus says a strange wave of courage took over him, gritting his teeth. Sirius's hand tightens more on Remus’s neck.

“Give me a fucking show then,” Sirius states, spitting on his face, “you’ll get your fucking mommy and she’ll fuck you until you're begging her to stop, you fucking slut” Remus whimpers as Sirius words. “Do you understand?” Sirius questioned, Remus not answering. “I asked you a fucking question,”

“Yes Sir” Remus grits through his teeth, Sirius slaps his face “Try again”

“I understand, Sir,” Remus says, not giving him an attitude this time.

Sirius slips out of you, giving you a quick kiss on the lips. He gets off the bed a drags a chair to be seated next to the bed.

“Do you remember your safe word, baby boy?” you ask Remus, he nods. “Can you say it for me, baby?”

“Red”

“Good Boy,” Remus smiles at your praise

“Tie him up” Sirius demands, you open the draw on your nightstand pulling out two black ropes. You rub his wrist gently before tying the rope around them and then tying them to the bedpost. Here Remus was again back in his sweet submissive state, his jealousy complete gone “Good girl” Sirius praises you, “Now make him cum just using your hands,”

You start off placing your thumb on his tip spreading his precum, instantly making Remus moan, “Be rough with our puppy” Sirius states, focusing on the tips of his cock, squeezing tightly, and whipping back and forth over his sensitive head. “Feels so good Mommy”

“Do her hands feel better than mine? Can your mommy please you better than I can?”

“Just different types of pleasure Sir,” Remus states, somehow still forming his sentences. You move to the base of his cock pumping up and down quickly.

“Mommy!” Remus shouts moaning, “can't hold it”

“Please let me cum! Pl- pleas- please”

“Cum for me” you give him permission, his seeds now painted on his chest. Sirius takes his fingers and takes his cum on his fingers, moving it to Remus’s lips. “Open,” Sirius states, Remus obeys him, tasting his cum in his mouth. “Suck” Remus sucks his cum off Sirius's fingers, Sirius almost thinks he should forgive him at how adorable he looked obeying him. almost.

You kiss the tip of Remus’s sensitive cock making him moan, “I think you need to pleasure your Mommy. She made you feel so good, don't you think she deserves it?” Sirius questioned him

“Yes, Mommy deserves all the pleasure.”

“Tell you what you can please your mommy but you have to get punished first or mommy doesn't get pleased at all but you get no punishment. Which one will it be?”

“What kind of punishment?”

“You’ll find out after you chose”

“I’ll take my punishment” Remus sighs sadly, looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You move to give Remus a sweet kiss.

“Just let me please mommy”

“Going to take your punishment first, baby boy” Sirius Staes, starting to untie Remus.

“Now get on your knees on the floor”

Remus moves to be in that exact position, on his knees his head right in front of Sirius’s hard cock. “I’m going to fuck your face pretty boy and then depending on how good you did ill decide the number of spankings you get”

“Open your pretty mouth for me” Remus obeys, the rest of his head remained still. Sirius began fucking his face, his hand going to Remus’s hair, tugging on it. Sirius began getting more rough Remus choked as his eyes started watering.

“Doing so good for him, baby” you praise him, Remus moves his right hand over to you, you immediately moved to hold it. Remus finally got his breathing under more control, glancing up to see Sirius’s pleasured expression, he gave Remus a smirk. Remus knew he shouldn’t have been enjoying this but he was.

“Going to cum down your throat,”

And with that he did and Remus swallowed it like the good boy he was. Remus let go of your hand once Sirius’s cock left his mouth.

“Tell you what pretty boy, I’ll hold off your other punishment until tomorrow, and maybe if your good you won't get it at all. But for now, go please your mommy she deserves it”

Remus nodded, letting out a “Thank you, Sir” and kissing Sirius on the cheek.

Remus laid down on the bed, waiting for you. You climb on top of him quickly, straddling his waist “You look so pretty for me and Siri baby” you start peppering kisses on his thighs. “I want to please you. Please let me” you raise your eyebrow. “What did you have in mind”

“Want you to sit on my face, mommy”

“Please, mommy? Pretty please?” he begs

“Going to make me cum on your tongue, like Sirius?” Remus nods his head quickly. “Look at our little cumslut, Sirius”

“So pretty” Sirius comments

You move to straddle his face, using the headboard so your weight is not completely on him. Remus starting eating out, you began grinding on his face, he was so eager to please, like it was his only goal in life.

When he moaned against your clit you reached down to tangle your hands into his soft hair, holding him in place. Remus took the hint, his tongue eagerly circled your clit

“You’re so good at this, you were made for this to please mommy. Such a little cumslut, letting me and Sirius use you like this,” Remus moaned, a familiar feeling rushing over you, causing you to grind down harder, Remus’s lips now covered in your arousal, as you continued to feel the pleasure building, getting closer and closer to a release each time. You tilt your hips, causing Remus to plunge his tongue deeper in you, completely ignoring the fact he needed air. He just had the desire to consume you. As his tongue explored you, your clit rubbed against his nose.

Moans escaped your mouth along with praise. Sirius still stood at the edge of the bed, watching everything.

Tugging harshly at his scalp, you moaned loudly as you let yourself go, moving out his name as you released. You continued riding out your highs, cum spilling all over his face as he clumsily ate out your cunt still.

“Did so good for me” Smiling softly.

You rolled off him, Sirius had left without the two of you noticing. But quickly he comes back with a damp washcloth. Sitting at the edge of the bed Sirius began cleaning you up (even though Remus already did a pretty good job with that with his tongue). He gave a sweet kiss before moving over to Remus and getting your leftover arousal off his face. Remus leaned up giving him a kiss, Sirius loved that he could taste both of you on his tongue.

“Alright, I want to be in the middle,” Sirius states

“But you're the do-” Remus began

“Can doms not be in the middle?”

Remus just smiled at him, “Of course they can,”

So here the night ended, you spooned Sirius as Sirius spooned Remus.

[nctrice]

Professor Jaehyun x Female Reader

Rating: 18+🛑

Word count: 2K

Content: smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dominant Jaehyun, praising, teacherxstudent, dilf Jaehyun, slight public intercourse

Disclaimer: I do not own Jung Jaehyun nor claim him in any sort of way. This Fanfiction is made up out of pure imagination and is strictly just fiction.

A/N: this is my first time writing for this tumblr platform and please give strict constructive advice if needed! Thanks!

___________________________

"Gosh he's hot!" I whispered under my breath gazing upon the dilf himself, Mr.Jung or in other words my calculus professor.

He stood tall and confident in front of the oddly huge white board, broad shoulders facing the class until he eventually turns around to ask a random student to answer the question that I had yet to even realize what it was. He swiftly scans the multiple rows of seats depicting who had been paying attention and who hasn't. I slowly began to sink in my seat avoiding be called on at any cost.

"Ah, y/n! I see you there! Come up here and answer this question for the class." He demands in a polite manner.

I had no problem with it of course, until he said to come forth. This is a first he's ever asked anyone to write the actual answer. My heart pounds within my chest, praying I don't make a fool of myself walking down or back up these unnecessarily wide stairs.

Mr.Jung steps aside and greets me with his well known charming smile. The amount of times this man alone has made me want scream to knock all the built up nerves out of my body. He made me feel more than just butterflies, I couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"Need help?" Mr.Jung folds his arms stepping closer.

"N-no thank you, I'm sure I got it."

My hands fumbled to reach for the dry erase marker he held out for me. It was a bit warm considering he's been holding it for more than half the class. I took a quick glance at the question, immediately regretting what I said. I did indeed need help, and I don't got it. I'm sure he could tell I was hesitating as my finger sits comfortably above my top lip.

'here goes nothing.' I thought before writing what I thought was the right answer. Mr.Jung examined the question, "close but not quite. The answer was -9, you forgot to subtract this which why you got -2. Try another easy one similar to this."

Bullshit. This question didn't look no where as easy. If I mess up again oh well, it's not like he'd pop out with another question to further embarrass me. As I thought long and hard about the problem, it began to feel like it was just us two. Him applying an uncomfortable amount of pressure with just the distance between us and me panicking underneath his anticipated stare.

"Not quite right neither, it'd be best for you to stay after class you seem to be having a lot of troubles."

Mr.Jung wiped the whiteboard free of any writing once I answered the last question and moved on with his lessons. I barely made it to the first step before he had wrote the next problem to briefly go over thanks to me. His words far more stern and exaggerated in attempt to sub me. Out of my entire time being in his class this had been the most I've ever seen this man share eye contact. Yet, it wasn't sweet and kind, more like curiosity had taken over and he couldn't get why I answered both questions incorrectly.

That exact thought had been on his mind throughout the rest of the class. A part of him felt anxious to know what it was that made me fumble at the problem that he knew I could solve perfectly fine on my own.

______________________

"Alright you all have a great rest of your afternoon and please do study for this upcoming test. It'll be more than 40% of your grade!" Mr.Jung announced as the classroom flooded out the doors, All except one person.

"Ms.l/n,"

He heaved a deep sigh, shoving his hands into his almost too tight dress pants pocket. He paced around his desk before sitting directly on the rounded edge. He looked dramatically intimidating, like he wanted to degrade you the moment he could.

"Is everything okay? You're normally really good with math. It hurt me to see you troubled with such an easy question."

My hands couldn't help but fiddle with the zipper sewed into my bag. How was I supposed to tell my teacher that he was the problem. Not in any sort of bad way, and not in any good way neither.

"Yeah I'm fine, just had a rough week." I lied.

"You seem kind of tense. Am I making you uncomfortable?" He innocently spoke while his eyes examined my body for some type of body language.

My knees buckled, hands folding anything to keep me calm, and not mentioning my blushed face. I was 100% sure that my face was completely flushed a crimson red. There was no denying it.

He didn't wait for an answer, and simply lowered his curtain covering the window then locked the door. I was unsure of what his intentions were but my mind was far off somewhere it shouldn't be regarding the fact that I'm just his student. The thought of him shoving all of his folders and papers off his desk and pinning me clouded my mind. My dying fantasy to have the slightest interaction that no other girl has ever had with him.

"I'm all ears. That's if you're comfortable with telling me of course." He knocked me into reality as I began to feel guilty for thinking negatively of his intentions.

"I'm not sure I can be completely honest." I mumbled beneath my breath breaking eye contact.

"And why is that?"

Mr.Jung held his arm out for me to grab. With little to no hesitation at all, I placed my hand in his. His thumb grazes over my knuckles a fee times until his eyes darted up towards mine.

"Cause I'm in no sort of position to have such thoughts."

I simply remove my hand from his grip feeling the tense sensation overwhelm me once again building up the need to put an end to this. He sensed it immediately.

"Turn around."

"Huh?"

"I'm not gonna say it again." His voice had more depth and demand stringing to it.

I did exactly what he said, no questions asked. His hands set firmly on my shoulders guiding me closer towards him until I felt the warmth radiating off of his body and onto mine. His thumb running deep circles into my shoulder blades releasing the tension that remained.

"Now tell me what position you feel you need to be in."

His hands made its way to my spine tracing all the way down to my waist before kneading my lower back.

"Missionary?"

"That can work too but I meant regarding to what you said. What position do you need to be in to have such dirty thoughts?"

By now, you were inches away from in between his legs, as much as I wished to be in this dearest situation, my first instinct was to freeze up. Was this really happening?

"I'm just your student. The things I want to do will ruin your career." I admitted.

He hummed at my answer willingly holding my waist and pulling me directly into his lap. I felt the slightest bulge poking me through my thin leggings. His head rested onto my right shoulder sending shivers down my back.

"There's nothing wrong with the student getting a little extra lesson with chemistry." He bluntly stated right beneath my ear.

I began to feel throbbing and anticipation between my legs.  Or maybe I had just noticed it now. His hands ventured from my waist toward the hem of my leggings, thumb pushing past my leggings and rubbing the outline of my panties. My stomach bursted with butterflies under his touch. He bit his lips as he felt the smooth lace of my underwear.

"Good choice Ms.l/n," he huskily whispered.

"Tell me about how you fantasize about me in explicit detail if you would."

My chapped lips parted realizing a deep breath I held in since he began to touch me in the ways I haven't yet imagined. His fingers trailed down to palm my womanhood gently creating the knot in my stomach.

"You had me alone like now, desperately removing everything off the desk to pin me down. Ripping my shirt in half as you cupped my boobs. One hand busy playing with my nipples, the other rubbing rough circles on my clit as you told me come."

He chuckled in response as he removed his hand from me and remained silent. As much as I wanted to turn around a catch a glimpse of his face, I was already too embarrassed sharing my intimate dreams with him.

He bit his lips dauntingly, "can I?"

"What?"

"Can I make that dream a reality?"

He slightly nibbled onto my ear, heat fuming from my dripping core soaking my panties by the second. I silently nodded afraid to speak at all. "I want to hear you say it, can I touch you?"

"Yes, Mr.Jung."

"Good girl, just for this I'll allow you to call me Jaehyun okay baby?"

I nodded once again holding back the whimpers threatening to leave my lips. His hands rubbed my ass gently getting rough within seconds, groping me every chance he got. The bulge teasingly poked at my core as he undid his pants lowering his draws enough to let his member spring free; slowly stroking himself onto my ass. Jaehyun grunted as the friction increased. His fingers tugged the the hem of my leggings sliding them down to my knees locking them in place.

"Damn you're sexy." He moaned taking in the sight of my now exposed ass. He stroked himself aggressively before tracing my spine with his fingers and bending me over. His other hand pushing my panties to the side as he inserted double digits into my soaked core curling his fingers and his thumb circled my clit. My breath became unstable panting like there was no tomorrow.  My walls clenched amongst his digits fighting the urge to come.  "Mhmm I-I can't hold it." I moaned balling my fists up against my knees for support. He took his digits out sucking every ounce making sure I heard the slurping noise before he lined himself at my entrance.

I inhaled a sharp breath as he entered his tip inside me. I had no clue how big he was but felt my walls adjusting to the girth of him. I bit my lip, holding back from the moans. His hands firmly placed on my hips as he shoved the rest of his large length inside me. I let out a small gasp followed with hitched breaths as his length reached what felt like my cervix. "Shh, you don't want no one to hear you don't you?" He whispered stopping in his tracks for a split second. He pulled almost all the way out coated with your juices only just to shove his length in back in reaching spots he may have missed.

"Oh fuck." Jaehyun groaned thrusting sluggishly. My walls clenched around him causing his grip to tighten on my waist. Tears streaming down my face in pleasure. He picked up the pace being careful enough to refrain from making any clapping noises. As much as he want to rail me until my eyes rolled back and seen stars he couldn't, not in this environment. Yet it was still enough to satisfy the both of our needs. Soft whimpers were the only thing he'd allow out of my mouth, anything louder than that he'd immediately pull out as a sign of punishment. His hand left my waist grabbing fistfuls of my hair and yanking it to see my fucked out facial expressions.

"Jaehyun." I breathed out as he rammed into me.

"Ms.l/n, you dirty little slut of mine, Ms.l/n you feel so good taking all my length in your wet pussy." He groaned aggressively in my ear pounded into me completely forgetting the fact that we were in his classroom. ~

"Ms.l/n! Please stop zoning out in my class!" Mr.Jung semi-shouts jolting me out of my day dream.  I immediately fixed my posture examining the dozens of eyes all drawn towards me including Mr.Jeong. He cocked an eyebrow at me before running his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"See me after class." He demanded and continued on with his lesson. And just like that, I added on to my series of fantasies with my Calculus professor.

.

[from-seas-to-skies]

The Teacher / Bakugou x Reader ♕︎

warnings: NSFW, teacher/student relationship, oral sex, spitting, sir kink, slut shaming, somewhat brat taming, age difference, unprotected sex

words: 5,772

(a/n): Bakugou is 30 in this; reader is younger (college age)

-

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

One, two, three, four… How long was it going to take until class ended again?

Looking up from your notebook, you stare up at the clock, the large, monotonous face seemingly glaring straight back at you. You don’t know how it happens, but time always moves so slow when it comes to your calculus class. Frankly, you’d rather ditch the class altogether, but if you wanted to graduate from college, you had to pass. Curse stupid curriculums and all that shit.

However, despite absolutely dreading having to stare at numbers for a solid hour and a half, there is a plus side to taking this dreaded class. In fact, it’s the very reason why you signed up for it in the first place. You’ve heard so many wonderful things about it, all from girls and guys alike, and you knew you had to see it up close and personal – rather, you had to see him.

Professor Bakugou.

Age thirty, drives a Land Rover, and, most importantly, single.

He’s about as dreamy as they come; a complete and utter Dreamboat Annie, absolutely huge in both height and stature, intelligent, and handsome. He’s only been a professor for a few years, but it’s been made apparent to the school that he’s worth it. Not only are his teaching methods and lectures incredible, but he’s turned out some of the highest grades your college has even seen. That itself is impress, and, combined with the hype of how hot he is, it’s no wonder people rush to take his classes.

So, when it came time for class schedules to come out, you were excited, needless to say. Despite having a general disliking to math in the first place, you figured this one guy could be what it takes to turn that idea around. Oh, but that was before you first laid your eyes on him.

Shit, you had heard that he was attractive – godly, even – but this? You weren’t expecting this. His biceps alone could crack a watermelon, and his sharp jawline could easily cut diamonds. It sounds cliché, that’s true, but you have no other way of putting it. Words did not do this man any justice.

At first, his constant yelling and crude demeanor were a total turn off. Professor Bakugou was essentially the teacher version of Gordon Ramsay, and you weren’t entirely sure if you liked that or not. However, as time continued, you actually grew accustomed to it. In fact, if he didn’t yell at least once during the class, you’d immediately figured he was having a bad day.

That’s when the thoughts began. Call it infatuation, a mindless crush, whatever, but you wanted Professor Bakugou. Your eyes soon began to watch his large hands flex while he wrote on the board rather than the content itself. You’d watch his forearms flex while he turned the page in his textbook, prominent veins inviting you for a better look. How you longed to touch him, to grab his sturdy shoulders or pull his wild hair. He always looked so good, clothes tailored to fit his muscular frame perfectly.

You’d fantasize about the most random of scenarios, each of them usually ending up with him bending you over his desk at the front of the room. You liked colder days the best, especially since Professor Bakugou had the habit of wearing form-fitting sweaters that outlined his massive pecs or the swell of his arms. You wanted to make him feel better, to sit underneath the desk and suck him off while he taught the rest of the class. Those narrow hips had to be strong, and you’d be damned if you never got to experience their power at least once.

It’s almost as if Professor Bakugou had cast a spell over all of his students. Nearly all of them gushed about how great he was; and, if you were in the proper company, they exchanged fantasies or proclamations about how fucking gorgeous he was. You’d usually grow bitter at these types of conversations. It was a crush, for fuck’s sake. There was no need to get all pouty like some problematic schoolgirl.

Still, the thoughts wouldn’t go away, not when he taught, not when he yelled. His booming voice became a part of your wicked fantasies, wondering how it’d sound to hear him grunting your name or commanding you to spread his legs for him. Again and again, you told yourself that it was fine, that people develop crushes on their teachers all the time. It was only in the dead of night that you’d have your hand stuffed down your pants and mouth moaning his name into a pillow was when you regretted it. It was a phase, nothing more.

And yet, over two months into the semester, and these thoughts still won’t go away. The constant ticking of the clock brings you back down to Earth, your eyes focusing on the problems before you. Swallowing thickly, you loosen your hand, now just noticing how hard you’ve begun to clench your pencil. Your insides feel oddly warm, that pleasant, heavy feeling sitting behind your belly button. Dammit, you mentally curse, this is not the time to be getting distracted.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

If only class could end sooner.

“Right,” Professor Bakugou suddenly says from his desk, “this Friday, I’m holding a study session for the upcoming exam on Monday. There’s only going to be a limited number of seats available, so if you wanna join, here’s your chance.” With his words, he holds a blank sheet of notebook paper up, a rather bored expression on his face.

He must be tired, you think, unconsciously biting your bottom lip. But why?

Around you, students shuffle to the front of the class, waiting for a chance to scribble their names onto the paper. Some seem a bit more excited than others, obviously arching their backs or flipping their hair over their shoulders. With a scoff, you look back down to your work. Did they really think they could catch his attention like that? Yeah, so he doesn’t show off a ring on his finger, but it’s pretty likely that he has people throwing themselves at him all the time. Besides, Professor Bakugou is a strict guy; there’s no way he’d engage in a relationship with a student.

You really shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. It’s pointless to pine after your teacher like that, especially with the risks that come along with getting involved with each other. Still, you can’t help but feel bitter. Professor Bakugou is a god that walks amongst men, so how could you not want somebody like him?

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed,” Professor Bakugou calls out. Dammit, you spaced out again. Maybe you should get that checked out?

With a sigh, you stuff your belongings into your backpack and draw to a stand. You wish it would be spring already; trudging through snow and ice is never fun, and the fact that your dorm is basically on the other side of campus makes it even more rough. Pulling your coat on and slinging your backpack over your shoulders, you make way towards the classroom door, completely unaware of a set of eyes watching your every move.

-

“Man, this is impossible,” your best friend, Ashido Mina, groans. “I’m going to bomb this exam for sure!” Sprawled out on her stomach, she squirms on the floor, her face scrunching with her displeasure.

You, on the other hand, sit cross-legged across from her. Notebooks and math textbooks surround the two of you, your laptop and calculator at the ready. Bags of chips and pretzels sit to the side, along with abandoned coffee cups and empty water bottles. Professor Bakugou’s exams were notorious for being hard, but at the same time, if you payed attention in class and studied, you’d succeed. The thing is, though, that neither you nor Mina are the best when it comes to math.

“I thought you went to his study session?” you ask, glancing up from your own notebook.

Flashing you a pout, Mina nervously runs a hand through her fluffy hair. “Well, yeah, but you know how it goes! A secluded area with Professor Bakugou! It’s like a dream come true! It was hard to focus when he’s leaning over your shoulder like that…”

Rolling your eyes, you puff in amusement. “Really? Mina, you know what will happen if you fail this test.”

“Yeah, yeah, but come on! You can’t blame me! You would’ve done the exact same thing!”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh yes you would’ve!” Mina exclaims, pointing an accusing finger your way. “Don’t pretend like you don’t ogle Professor Bakugou during class! He’s one hell of a hunk, isn’t he? I never knew college professors could be so hot!” she gushes, a giggle following her words. “And that study session – oh my god, I nearly thought I was going to heart attack when he helped me solve this one problem. He’s so warm and he smells great!”

You cock an eyebrow at her. “You were smelling our teacher?”

At that, Mina blows a raspberry and waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not Kaminari, sweetheart. I have class. Besides, Professor Bakugou smells like caramel. Can you believe it? I wonder if he uses cologne or feminine soap.”

Caramel, eh? Now that’s something you can get behind.

“You want him to fuck you, right?”

Wait, what?

Narrowing your gaze at her, your brows knit closely together. “What kind of question is that?”

Mina rolls her eyes. “What, like you don’t think about it? Practically everyone on this campus has thought about it at some point or another? I mean, hello! He’s totally Daddy material. I’ve heard that he goes to the gym sometimes here on campus – turns out he’s huge.”

Huge. Of course this is what Mina chooses to focus on. You wish you had a spray bottle to squirt at her horny ass.

“And I don’t mean muscle wise,” Mina continues, a mischievous expression coming to her face. “I bet he tastes like candy.”

“Mina.”

“Why yes, Mr. Bakugou sir! I’ll gladly suck your fat cock for an A!”

“Mina.”

“His ass is really nice, too. I wouldn’t mind pegging him-“

“MINA.”

“What?”

You smack your forehead and groan as your hand trails down your face. “Are you going to study or not? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather graduate than work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life.”

Mina purses her lips at you in an excessive pout. “You’re such a fun sponge, holy shit. I think you need a good dicking down by Professor Bakugou. Maybe then you’d stop staring after him all the time during class.”

Your face heats up at her words, but there’s no way you’re owning up to that. Okay, so yeah, maybe getting fucked by him would be a dream come true, but you’re more realistic than that. “And you’re not concerned at all that he’s our teacher? You know, like he could lose his job and you could be expelled? That doesn’t bother you? At all?”

Mina shrugs. “Meh.”

“Woooow…. You really are shameless.”

“Hey, you win some, you lose some. If I could get that man to put a ring on my finger, then I’d be okay with it.”

“Yeah, because you definitely want to bring your math professor home. Uh huh, great one. Tell me how that goes.”

With a grunt, Mina rolls over and sits up. “Whatever, man. I’m hungry, so I’m going to go down to the dining hall. Wanna come with?”

Glancing at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand, you see that it’s only 5:15. True, you could get a bite to eat, but you’d rather stay back and finish a few more problems. “I think I’ll join up with you later,” you tell Mina.

She nods her head and offers you a small smile. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll see you later.” Gathering up her things, she unceremoniously shoves them into her backpack and salutes you with a goodbye. After she pulls the door shut behind her, you turn back to the task at hand.

It shouldn’t be this hard to solve these last couple of problems, but your brain is really starting to feel the struggle. A dull ache is already forming between your eyeballs, and you truly wonder if you’re going to make it through this or not. Maybe you should take a break, or at least give your eyes a rest. Still, that little stubborn streak in you tells you to carry on. You only have a few more problems left, and you’re so close to finally finishing!

As you set to work, the digits on your alarm clock change as time drags on. Okay, so maybe you’re demanding too much of yourself. Your brain is absolutely fried, and your headache is spreading. Glancing back up at the clock, luminous green lines glare a 5:31. Jeez, it’s only been sixteen minutes since you last checked, yet it seems as though hours have passed. You really want to finish this study session, but the last problem is throwing you in for a loop.

You’ve already scoured your notes and the textbook for how to go about the problem, but your mind is drawing up with a blank. It has to be because you’re tired, right? It’s not that hard… Or is it?

“Dammit,” you mutter, sitting back and pressing your palms flat against the floor. Again, you look at the clock. Frankly, you don’t want to spend all night pouring over this, and you don’t want to skip dinner, either. You know for a fact that Mina will beat your ass for skipping out on food. “Screw it.”

Scrambling off the floor, you throw a thick coat on and slide on your sneakers. Professor Bakugou sometimes has the habit of frequenting his office during the weekends (or so you’ve heard), and you desperately need to know how to solve this problem. Chances are something similar will be on the exam, and you want to get as good of a grade as possible. Plus, if he is there…

You swallow thickly. Now is not the time to let Mina’s previous words get to you.

And so, with your notebook tucked underneath an arm, you take off.

It’s a damned shame that his office is practically on the other side of campus, but you figure it wouldn’t be too bad to get your body moving after spending so much time hunched over. Now that you think about, you could just email him, but you’re not sure how quick he’d respond. This is a dire moment. Okay, maybe not, but still. Maybe you want to see Professor Bakugou. Maybe.

You’re thankful when you finally enter the building, free of the flurries of snow and the seeping chill. Stomping your feet free from snow, you look around, creeped out yet fascinated by the silent, empty halls. You doubt very many people are here besides lingering staff and the janitors. One could only hope that Professor Bakugou is frequenting his office.

As you draw closer and closer to his office, your footsteps bounce off the walls, reminding you of how alone you are. There’s a fifty/fifty chance that he’s even going to be in his office, yet your heart pounds frantically in your chest. If he isn’t there, you’ll just simply turn around and stalk back to your dorm and hope for the best. If he is there, well, you’re not entirely sure what you should say.

He’s your teacher, dammit. It shouldn’t be this hard going up to him and asking him for help. It’s literally his job to help students out; nothing more, nothing less. Still, Mina’s words ring throughout your mind. It’s just a crush, you remind yourself. Stop getting so worked up about it.

There it is, just straight up ahead – Professor Bakugou’s office.

Like the other offices lining the hall, it’s made from a heavy wood, a frosted window place in the top half with Professor Bakugou’s name printed on it. A simple door like this shouldn’t intimidate you so much, but yet it does. All you have to do is knock on it, wait for a possible response, and then go from there. However, now that you’re in front of it, you somewhat hope he’s not there. Your palms are growing clammy and your throat feels fuzzy.

“Here goes nothing,” you tell yourself, reaching up and rapping on the door.

For a moment, nothing happens. Perhaps Lady Luck has decided to spare some mercy on you, after all. Releasing a pent-up breath you didn’t know you were even holding, you prepare to step back and walk away, but then a muffled come in sounds through the door.

Oh, shit.

You wince as your cowardice floods you with a renewed force. There’s no way you can just leave now, not if you want Professor Bakugou potentially chasing you down. Taking in a deep breath, you turn the brass knob and poke your head inside. “Uh, Professor Bakugou?”

Oh, shit.

There he is, sitting behind an oak desk, hunched down over a stack of papers. He holds up a single finger, a signal for you to give him a moment. Immediately, your eyes skim over his exposed forearms, skim over the tight black turtleneck that fits him like a glove. Rolled sleeves, watch on wrist, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, he’s just dripping with classy sexiness.

The steady tick tock, tick tock fills the otherwise silent room. It grates on your already wired nerves, mocks you for just standing there, waiting. You can’t help but glance at its face – 5:49. It’s already dark out, winter’s everlasting darkness sapping the Earth’s light. Stepping fully inside the room, you gently shut the door behind you, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought.

After another moment or so, he finally clicks his pen closed, tosses it onto the desk, and leans back in his chair. “Oi – what do you want?”

Removing your notebook from underneath your arm, you hold it out for him to take. “I was… I was wondering if you could explain how to work out this problem?”

Quirking an eyebrow, Professor Bakugou sits upright and glances at what you’ve written. “We discussed this during the study session on Friday.” His eyes dart up to yours. “I’m surprised you weren’t there.”

Is he singling you out right now? It feels like he’s singling you out right now. But wait, doesn’t that also mean that he noticed you not being there? He’s just saying that to say it, right? …Right?

“There was a lot on my mind,” you say softly.

Professor Bakugou sighs. “Alright, come here.” Maybe it’s the gruffness of his voice, but the simple command nearly has you whimpering on the spot. Jesus, you need to get your act together!

“Of course, sir,” you reply, the title subconsciously rolling off your tongue. Skirting around the desk, you come to his side, unaware of him shifting in his seat.

“It’s really not that hard if you put your damned brain to use,” he grunts, picking his pen back up. You notice how the tendons in his hand flex with the subtle movement; actually, now that you’re up close in personal, you can clearly see the veins racing up his forearms, the sheen of blond hairs.

Warmth seems to radiate off of him, just like how Mina said. You wonder if he gets hot easily, or if that’s just the way he is. Either way, you shimmy the slightest bit closer to him, eager to ward off the chill that still clings to you from the outside. He goes into great detail about how to go through each step surrounding the problem; you lean over his shoulder as he goes through the steps, the heat emanating from his skin drawing you in more and more. With each breath, the scent of caramel floods your senses. You’re almost half tempted to press your nose to his nape and get a better smell, but that’d just be creepy. Plus, even if you did that, Professor Bakugou could probably pick you up and literally throw you out of his office.

Still, despite knowing the risk, your mind takes off, just like it usually does whenever you’re in his presence. It would just be so easy to squeeze his thick arms, to run your fingers through his thick blonde hair. Maybe you could push the collar of his turtleneck down, expose his neck and bite the pulse. It’s almost ridiculous just how big he is, how easily he could overpower you. A familiar warmth floods your system, encasing your insides and clutching onto your heart. This is bad – very, very bad.

“Oi, what the hell are you staring at?” Professor Bakugou barks.

Snapping yourself back to attention, you notice him staring at you, his glasses now off his handsome face. If possible, he’s even more attractive up close; thick lashes, full lips, a slight gleam in his eyes that demand power and control. He almost looks entirely different like this, face lax instead of fixed with a scowl. Good lord, you really are whipped for him.

“Oh, um, sorry,” you ramble, eyes going wide. “It’s just that your hair looks really… fluffy…?”

“…Hah?”

You quickly avert your eyes. “Nevermind…”

“You know,” Professor Bakugou starts, voice low, “you stare at me a lot during class, too. You’re not very subtle.”

You wince at his words. “I… I’m not sure what you’re talking about-“

Rolling his eyes, he scoffs and tosses down his pen. “You’re not majoring in theatre, are you? Because you suck at acting.” He flashes you a cocky smirk when you look back to him. “Just admit it – you like what you see, don’t ya? Can’t say I blame you.”

Okay, wow, cocky much. Yeah, sure, he’s an absolute babe, but wouldn’t you think he’d be a bit more… modest?

Now it’s your turn to scoff. “Didn’t know my math professor thought so highly of himself.”

“Tch. Looks like you got a damn mouth on you, after all. Well, if you’re done undressing me with your eyes, do you want to learn how to do this problem or not? I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll let it slide just this once since I like you.”

Wait, wait, hold up. Did he just say he likes you?

“You’re a good student,” Professor Bakugou continues. “Even if you do focus on me more than my lecture.”

Is this how the conversation was supposed to play out? Because damn you’re nearly shaking, and you still have your coat on. He knows too much, dammit. He’s known this entire time and he’s playing you.

“And yet you could’ve easily told me to stop,” you shoot right back, sick of being prosecuted like this. Sure, it might be a bad idea to pick a fight with a teacher, but this is outside of classroom hours; and, frankly, he can kiss your ass. Crude demeanor or not, you’re not about to let this man push you around.

“Who said I wanted you to stop?”

No. There’s no way he just said that. This big-headed narcissist is relishing in this, isn’t he? Bastard.

“Hate to break it to you, Professor, but almost everyone stares at you like that,” you tell him. You realize you just admitted it to the accusation, but there’s no point in defending it anymore.

“Like I give a shit about the others? Really? You’re gonna talk about them?” He scoffs his amusement and leans back in his chair, thick arms crossing over his chest. “Did you come here to ask me questions about the exam or did you just want to be with me all by yourself?”

You hesitate. Is that really the reason you came here tonight? The whole way here you debated this yourself, Mina’s words circling around your head. No, you’re smarter than this. It’s a bad idea to get involved with a teacher – it’s wrong.

“I’m not going to lie or deny the truth,” Professor Bakugou continues, his voice dropping to an uncharacteristically low pitch. “I’m also not stupid. You’re just as scared as me, aren’t you? Of the repercussions.”

Your mouth falls agape. What is he going on about…?

Slowly, Professor Bakugou sits back up, his face getting dangerously close to yours. Hot breath fans over the bottom half of your face. His eyes are heavily lidded, his lashes kissing his cheeks. “I’m not going to force anything on you,” he murmurs. “Tell me to stop and I will.”

Oh my god.

Unable to resist the close proximity anymore, you shoot forward, your hands landing on the arms of the chair; Professor Bakugou’s lips are softer than you anticipated, but in no way is he gentle. Right away he’s clutching the back of your neck, dragging you forward so you’re settled on his lap. The arms of the chair pinch into your thighs at the tight fit, but you could care less. You’re on Professor Bakugou’s lap, you have his tongue in your mouth, his hands landing on your ass and kneading the flesh.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do this forever,” he growls, his hands slipping under your shirt and gliding over your lower back. You arch into his touch, a breathless moan slipping past your lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you pant.

“I know.”

Fuck, it’s all so good, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth and hands unbuttoning your jeans. A startled noise erupts from your throat as a large hand slides into the front of your pants, cupping your crotch. You buck into his touch, all sense dissipating from your thoughts as you fervently grind into his heated palm. There’s a clutter of paper and office supplies as they hit the floor. Before you know it, you’re rising from the chair, your ass landing on the wooden desk instead.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Professor Bakugou grits. Your ass is barely on the desk by the time he’s done dragging you forward, your jeans aggressively getting yanked off, your underwear following suit. Your thighs instinctively snap shut at the cold air making contact with your bared skin, but strong hands pry them apart, fingertips kneading into the flesh. “I wanna make you cum with my tongue.”

“Wai- Ah! Fuck!” you cry out, your fingers clutching onto the edge of the desk as his head ducks down, his mouth latching onto your sex. Until now, you weren’t even aware that you were dripping with arousal. Sinful noises spill from between your legs as Professor Bakugou fucks you with his mouth, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive parts.

“God, you’re such a slut.”

Smack.

You cry out as he brings a hand down on the innermost part of your thigh; your nerves quake, your blood pumps wildly through your veins. Again, he slaps your thigh, a growl tearing itself from his chest as he looks up, his eyes catching yours.

“Say it.”

Smack.

“I – I’m a slut,” you babble, tongue feeling heavy in your mouth.

Smack.

“What was that?”

“I said I’m a slut!” you exclaim, voice cracking.

“I expect you to refer to me properly,” he says darkly, his pupils dilating to the point where you could barely see his irises. “Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

A single smirk is thrown your way before his mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. His moves are quick, sensual. It’s clear he’s experienced, and you don’t blame him. Just look at him for Christ’s sake. The man is basically sex on legs, all nicely wrapped up in a turtleneck sweater and a simple pair of slacks. The pleasure only heightens as his fingers come into play, prodding at your hole; the tips just barely push past the muscle, leaving you moaning even louder and clutching harder on the desk. Your fingernails scratch the surface, the lacquer coming off.

“Tasty little brat, aren’t ya?” he drawls. Your entire body jolts as he spits on your sex. “I could get used to doing this.”

“Please, sir,” you plead, desperation filling your voice. You want his mouth back on you. You want to cum. “Please, it feels so good…”

Professor Bakugou clicks his tongue. “Shit, you’re even obedient. How nice.” He redoubles his efforts, then, wet noises filling the room along with your heavy breathing.

“Shit, shit, oh my god,” you babble, your body tensing. Still, his tongue digs in just right and there goes your sanity, flying out the window as you cum.

A deep chuckle fills your ears as Professor Bakugou sucks it down; drawing away, he flashes you his tongue, your arousal coating his tongue before he makes a show of swallowing the last bit of it. Wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand, he draws to a stand. The tent in his slacks is obvious, the front of it darker than the rest. Your insides squeeze around nothing, the idea of making him get like that making you feel hotter than before.

You’re hypnotized as he pulls his hands away. His movements are slow and methodical, the clink of his belt echoing throughout the room. Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip as he leisurely undoes his belt and slacks. Blood rushes through your ears, your mind a complete mess. You feel dizzy with want, with the need to sink your teeth into the swell of his pectoral, to claw the plains of his back.

All the air is sucked from your lungs when he finally pulls his cock out, the head flushed a deep red. Your eyes trail over the prominent veins, the fat bead of precum pushing its way out the tip. Fuck, he’s huge, both in length and girth. Whoever told Mina that he was big wasn’t lying. Your legs subconsciously spread even wider, a silent plead for him to fill you up and fuck you raw.

“Tell me you want this,” he husks. He does the honor of unzipping your coat and slipping it off your shoulders before easing you onto your back. The cold from the wood permeates through your shirt, brings a new wave of goosebumps to your flesh.

“Only if you tell me the same thing,” you croak. “Do you fuck all of your students who walk in through that door?”

“No,” Professor Bakugou blatantly says, and you can tell he’s being earnest. “It’s wrong of me to think so, but I’ve been wanting to do something with you since I saw you. It sounds like some sappy bullshit, but it’s the truth. I was too much of a pussy to ask you out for a coffee.”

Something about hearing him confess his feelings to you sets your heart alight. A slight smile tugs at your lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Tch. And you’re a fucking brat.”

Hunching over you, a large hand plants itself by your head while the other guides his cock to your awaiting hole. A shaky breath passes through your mouth as he pushes himself in; the stretch burns, his thick cock filling you up in a way that you didn’t even know was possible.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he breathes. “Look at you, sucking in my cock like that. What a good little slut. I bet you’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? I bet you touched yourself while thinking about this very moment, about me fucking you on my desk like this.” A surprised squeak bursts from your throat as he grabs your legs and throws him over his shoulders, effectively bending you in half. “Gotta fuck you nice and deep, right? Because that’s how a slut like you likes it.”

Like this, with your knees almost touching your ears, the tip of his cock hits your soft spot. A pathetic whimper comes from you as he grinds his cock into you, his eyes carefully watching your erotic expressions, figuring out what you like best.

Before long, he’s fucking into with vigor, his hips moving restlessly. His cock pounds into you mercilessly, the slap of skin against skin mixing with your cries. His mouth is at your throat, teeth skimming your jugular before he latches onto your thundering pulse. You helplessly claw at his shoulders, your fingers bunching into the fabric of his shirt. You’re so fucking full, your velvety walls clamping around his cock selfishly. A blend of curses and yes, fuck, you fucking slut fill your ears; he’s panting hard, a slight chuckle breaking through every once in a while.

“Fucking let everyone know who’s fucking you this good,” he grits. “Jesus, look at the mess you’re making…”

“Professor Bakugou!” you whine. “Your cock feels so good… Fuck, fuck, oh my god, yes-“

“Katsuki. My name is Katsuki.”

Katuski.

The name rolls around your brain like a loose bolt. It settles on the tip of your tongue, just waiting to be let out.

It’s when you cum that you shout his name, your walls tightening around him harshly while your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. A load groan rumbles from the depths of his chest as he follows suit shortly after, his hips moving erratically as his cum splashes against your insides.

The both of you are sweating, panting messes by the time he finally pulls out. You whimper as you clench around nothing, the emptiness a bit too much to bear. Surprisingly, Professor Bakugou – no, Katsuki – is gentle as he cleans you up, his free hand rubbing your side. Swallowing your pride, you clear your throat.

His eyes flick up, land on yours. “What.”

“Do you…” You worry your bottom lip. “Do you want to get coffee sometime?”

Katsuki snorts. “Wow, got a real fucking charmer here, don’t I? How about you come to my place instead and I make you a proper dinner. You didn’t eat yet, did you?”

As if on cue, your stomach growls. Well, you did deny Mina’s offer for dinner, after all. You smile nervously and give him a shrug.

Chest swelling (with pride, you assume), Katsuki flashes you a cocky smile. “I’m a damn good cook, brat. I’ll cook a meal that will have you weak in the knees.”

“Maybe… Maybe you could finally show me how to do that problem?” you offer.

He rolls his eyes. “Will you finally pay attention this time or will I have to pound it into your brain?”

[heythere-mel]

Partition

Dave York x f!reader

W/C: 1.2K+

Warnings: oral (male and female receiving), fingering, Dave and reader are a bit handsy, language, let me know if I missed anything please. 18+ 

A/N: So this is my first time writing any kind of smut and my offering to the Dave York pit. Inspired by Beyoncé’s song Partition because it just SCREAMS Dave. The lyrics to the part of the song that I used are in bold. Also, I took the artistic liberty and changed “Yonce” to “Y/N” when it came to that particular part in the reading. If you say it in time with the beat and rhythm of the actual song it honestly fits perfectly, hahaha. Totally canon divergent, no family, none of that on Dave’s part. Also, huge thank you to my smut queen @pedro-pascal-love for beta reading and helping this flow better, and @icanbeyourjedi​ for hyping me up to write this.

Summary: A night out with Dave quickly takes a heated turn.

  Dave hates these events. Rich government assholes all trying to one-up each other in the most pathetic of ways. Though he knew that tonight would be different knowing you’d be by his side, making things just a bit more bearable amidst all the fake smiles and corporate bullshit.

From the minute Dave stepped out of the limousine to greet you, lust-blown eyes falling upon your form, you both knew this ride would be an interesting one.

“Good evening, David,” you say as you embrace him. He snakes a large hand around your waist, the other coming up to tangle in your hair as he leans in, his hot breath lingering on your ear for a mere second before he speaks.

“You have some nerve wearing this little number out, sweetheart,” he huskily whispers, tugging at the white silk that is draped over your figure, the material hugging every curve just right. You smirk and lean back, meeting his glare head-on.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you slyly retort, bright red lips morphing into a fake pout. “Let’s get going, shall we? Don’t wanna keep them waiting.”

Dave seizes the opportunity to grab a handful of your plump flesh, drawing a light “oooh” from your mouth as you crawl into the back of the vehicle. Once fully seated, you notice, from your peripheral, that Dave’s gaze never left you, and you smile to yourself.

“You know, I think it’s quite bold of you. Wearing absolutely nothing under this,” he seductively says, running a finger down the strap of your dress. Of course, he knew. “You thought I wouldn’t notice? Didn’t take you as the type.”

“Guess there’s a lot you still don’t know about me, huh, Mr. York?”

“Well then, let’s see just how bold you really are,” he challenged, creeping his hand up your thigh, your own coming to rest on the imprint of his now straining length, a silent agreement between the two of you.

“Driver roll up the partition please....”

“What’s wrong, honey, don’t want the driver to see how filthy I know you really are?”

Driver roll up the partition please

I don’t need you seeing Y/N on her knees

Took forty-five minutes to get all dressed up

We ain’t even gonna make it to this club...

The entire time Dave ran his mouth, you unzipped the fly of his pants. Oh, commando too, I see. Then, you pulled out what you were aching for, bent over, and gave his weeping tip the smallest of licks.

“Sure you wanna go there?” Dave questioned, jaw clenching at your actions.

Without warning, you sank to the floor, taking his throbbing member into your mouth as far as you could, causing Dave to throw his head back in ecstasy and pure shock at your sexual prowess.

Now my mascara running, red lipstick smudged

Oh he so horny, yeah he want to fuck

He popped all my buttons, he ripped my blouse

He Monica Lewinski’d all on my gown...

Fuck! Her mouth is so warm, Dave thought, as he held your hair away from your face, wanting a better view. Your head bobbed up and down with calculated grace, so much that Dave started to buck, hitting the back of your throat, making you slightly gag, and he was living for it.

“Feels so good,” he murmured, taking in your now smudged lipstick and light mascara-streaked face. He doesn’t let up, not with you staring at him with those big doe eyes, and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. You bring your hand down to gently caress his balls, and they draw up, the lewd mewls you pull from him making you wet. On the precipice of his orgasm, he grabs your head, stalling your movements. Can’t give her the satisfaction, he thought, spilling onto your chest and gown.

Oh there daddy, daddy didn’t bring the towel

Oh baby, baby we better slow it down

Took forty-five minutes to get all dressed up

We ain’t even gonna make it to this club...

“What the fuck, Dave?!” you exclaim as both of you try to catch your breath.

“Good thing your gown is the same color.” He says with a smirk, pulling you from the floor and back into the seat next to him.

“Here, let me make it up to you,” he says, giving you a chaste kiss, the most gentle you know he’ll be tonight.

Take all of me

I just wanna be the girl you like

The kinda girl you like...

Dave removes his suit jacket, and you watch as he meticulously rolls up the sleeves of his crisp dress shirt, showing off the strength you know those broad arms carry.

Take all of me, I just wanna be the girl you like

The kinda girl you like is right here with me...

“You know why I decided to wear nothing underneath this, right?” you tease, your hands slowly caressing their way down to your bare soaked core. Dave slinks to the floor, taking up your previous position, and gave you a sultry look.

He made his way up your thighs, leaving a trail of little wet kisses in his wake while looking at you through his long lashes, eyebrow quirked in curiosity. Your answer made Dave rock hard once again.

“Easy access,” you tease, smiling innocently. “Now, eat.”

Your command shoots straight to the burning desire in his belly, and he forcefully pulled you to the edge of the seat, bunching the remainder of your dress up your hips. Ohhh, she thinks she’s in control here. That’s cute. He decides to drag his tongue at a painfully slow pace along your slit, lapping up every drop you give him. Your back arches at his touch, the aquiline curve of his nose nudging that delicate little spot just right, and your hands grab hold of his hair with a light tug as he inserts a finger into your aching pussy. The movement starts slow but quickens as he takes in how wrecked you’re becoming from the simple action.

“Ready for another baby girl?” he asks, adding a second finger, his pace never faltering. The stretch is unbelievable, the thickness of his digits increasing the intensity of your pleasure from the sensation. Ohh, these perfect big hands, you thought, completely blissed the fuck out. He adds a third, and your eyes shoot open, his name catching in your throat. The devilish grin never leaves Dave’s face as you grab his wrist and try to pull away.

“You’re almost there. I can feel it,” he mumbles, sucking your clit into his mouth, the low timbre and vibration of his moans working you closer until it ignites the last of what you need to tip over the edge. “Let go.”

You let out a silent scream, clenching down and drenching his fingers with your slick, and Dave’s mouth clashes with yours in a fiery kiss. You’re completely sated as he eases them out, bringing your dress down, and allows your mind to catch up with what had just transpired. You watch him, in a daze, as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean one by one. Fuck, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. Your thoughts are interrupted when the driver taps on the dark glass, lowering the partition enough to announce that you’ve made it to the venue. You both stare at each other, not wanting this moment to end so soon.

“I think the real question here is,” he begins, a wicked glint in his eye, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “my place or yours?”

“Driver roll up the partition, fast...”

[mellointheory]

inhaling smoke, i just awoke

Red wakes up because he’s cold.

It’s winter in Hypixel City, and even the amount of toxins the city puts into the air doesn’t keep the weather from getting cold. Red used to live near a factory that, despite its other drawbacks, kept the air around it warm. He moved away from the factory after he lost his job at the pharmacy. Of course, at that point there wasn’t much of a factory to move away from.

He fights the urge to stay in bed, even though his blankets are thin. It’s only when a glance at his alarm clock tells him it’s 10:46 AM that he gains the motivation to get up. His hands are numb and he blows on them periodically as he gets dressed. There are stains on his palms and fingertips; skin spotted in dark purple and blue. He was working on something new before he went to bed: a recipe of his own that should give the user enhanced eyesight. He tried it last night and all it did was give everything he looked at an edge of bright orange or cyan. He still has the residual headache from it behind his eyes.

Red and white hoodie. Headphones. Bag full of enhancements--the kind that people will actually buy. A baseball bat painted with candy-cane stripes, just in case. Then it’s time for him to go to work.

He ended up in the dockyards of the city after the pharmacy incident, partially because no one would come looking for him here and partially because it was full of exactly the type of degenerates he could sell to. This was where the unwanted of the city ended up; hybrids and cyborgs who’d gone to the wrong place for their surgeries, stray creatures trying to scrape through living in alleyways. One of them ducks into a gutter as he passes; a kind of modified creature with fur and wings. It’s probably been commissioned by some rich person in the upper quarter of the city, then tossed out as soon as they got bored with their living artwork.

Red turns up the music in his headphones and shoves his hands in his hoodie pockets, trying to keep them warm. It’s snowing out here; flakes of grey slush raining down. He could almost mistake it for ash if it didn’t melt when it touched his skin.

A neon sign, its glow still noticeable despite the late morning due to the dark clouds hanging in the sky, catches his attention.

Munchy, it reads in cursive yellow text. Below it are the glass doors of what appears to be a small bar. It’s a little early for one to be open, and there’s far more patrons than he would guess from a place like this. They must serve breakfast or something. He’s not dumb enough to sell in someone else’s establishment without talking to the owner first; but this has more potential customers than anywhere else he’s passed and he’s loathe to let the chance go.

Red pushes one of the doors open with his forearm and walks inside, exhaling as warm air swirls around him. He walks up to the counter and sits down, resting his elbows on it and sliding his headphones down around his neck.

“Can I get you anything?” A blonde man in an apron turns towards him, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter to someone sitting a few seats down.

“Um, yes.” Red straightens his back, smacking his palms down on the counter. “Could I talk to the owner?”

The man squints at him through green eyes, vaguely suspiciously, then shrugs. “Sure. He’s through those doors,” a finger points at a pair of double doors at the other end of the bar.

Red spins his bar stool in the direction the blonde man directed and gets up, walking over the strip of linoleum floor between squeaky-clean booths. He pushes the indicated doors open and find what appears to be a small casino. His gaze passes over the poker and pool tables and catches on a figure behind a desk all the way at the other end of the room. He takes a step forward.

“Excuse me,” a voice at his elbow says, and he turns to see a cat.

A catboy.

The man is standing behind a counter to Red’s right, soft fur and pointed ears and huge eyes. He’s patterned like toast, is Red’s first thought. Soft, cream colored fur that shades to tan on his face and almost black on the backs of his ears. His hands that rest on the counter are delicate and covered in short fur as well, except for soft pads on his palms and fingertips. Red wonders if he has claws. His blue eyes are mostly pupil at the moment, dilated in the low lights of the empty casino.

“You need to leave your weapon here.” The cat hybrid says apologetically. He has little fangs that glint against the pink inside of his mouth when he speaks.

Red reaches up and pulls his basketball bat from where it’s strapped to his back, extending his arm full length to hand it to the other man. The cat hybrid leans forward to grab it as close to the handle as possible and Red glimpses his tail curling up behind the counter to help him keep his balance.

Coming here was a very good idea.

The thought stays even when he walks up to the desk at the other end of the casino and sees a demon sitting there.

The demon’s name is Bad and despite his initial disappointment that Red was not in fact a traveling muffin salesman, he gives Red permission to sell his enhancements in that area. Red may have glossed over all of the benefits of the various concoctions he creates, but he receives the go-ahead that he needs.

If anyone bothers you, feel free to let me or Antfrost know! The demon said cheerily as Red was on his way out. The catboy nodded in agreement, eyes staying downcast when he handed Red back his baseball bat.

Red half hopes that someone will mess with him. He waves a goodbye to the blonde man working behind the bar and hooks his headphones up over his ears again as he strides out into the cold of the street.

He sells half of the supply he packed, and only one person tries to rob him. That’s a downright phenomenal day of business, honestly. He starts to head home when he gets hungry in the late afternoon. The sun is low in the sky at this point, and that combined with the heavy cloud cover of winter has it dark enough for the street lights to be on. Its not night, but there’s a grey gloom over everything that’s only faintly dispelled by the blue-white street lamps every once in a while.

Red hums along to the music in his headphones as he walks. It’s finally stopped snowing. There’s about an inch of snow on the ground, trampled to grey slush on the street and sidewalk, and in the gutter stained various colors by whatever toxic muck runs through there. He spies a patch of untouched snow near the base of a building and squats down, pressing his forefinger into it.

The snow stains red, chemicals bleeding off of Red’s skin into the pristine whiteness. A trail of crimson trails after his finger as he drags it through the snow.

He draws a penis.

“Excuse me?” A voice asks hesitantly, and Red looks up. The catboy from earlier today is standing above him, huddled in a dark green coat. Like an angel from above, back in Red’s life already. Antfrost, the demon had said his name was.

“Hi, Antfrost.” Red beams, standing up and shoving his headphones down around his neck so he can hear the man properly.

“Hi, I—didn’t catch your name.” Antfrost glances down at the penis Red drew in the snow.

“I’m Velvet, but most people call me Red.” Red sticks out a hand.

“I can see why.” Antfrost stares at the red stains on his skin, hesitates, then reaches out and clasps Red’s hand. He shakes it once, then pulls his back. His fur is like soft silk and the pads on his palms are warm enough to leave the faint ghost of his touch on Red’s skin.

“Do you sell sedatives?” Antfrost asks abruptly, shoving both his hands into his coat’s pockets. Red notices that his tail is nowhere in sight, which means it’s probably tucked away into his pants to stay warm. The thought is unbearably endearing to him.

“What kind of sedatives do you want?” Red asks, swinging his shoulder bag around in front of him and unzipping it to look through it.

“A mist or something?” Antfrost tries to peer inside the bag, although odds are that he doesn’t know what any of the potions’ colors and appearance actually mean.

“How wide of a range do you need?” Red zips his bag shut again and folds his arms.

“Big.” Antfrost’s pupils tighten to little slits, and he frowns. And now he looks dangerous, a fanged man with narrowed eyes and some goal not yet revealed to Red. It’s fascinating.

“I don’t have anything like that with me,” Red starts, and before Antfrost can open his mouth he continues, “but I can make some for you within an hour. When do you need it?”

“Tonight.” Antfrost says resolutely. “How much will it cost?”

“For you? Free.” Red turns and starts down the street again. Antfrost follows a few feet behind.

“Are you sure?” The cat hybrid asks.

“Of course I am. Your boss did me a favor, so I’ll pay it forward.” Red glances back at him. “I can make that in half an hour, if you don’t mind waiting at my place till it’s done.”

“That’s not a problem.” Ant puts his hood up. His ears make little points in the top of the fabric.

Red’s apartment is only a few minutes away, but it’s long enough for his hands to get numb. His headphones double as earmuffs, so he puts them back on as they walk to keep his ears from getting cold. He’s thankful for when they finally make it up the stairs to the small, three room apartment that he calls home.

Damn, not even the first date and Antfrost has already come home with him.

Red fumbles with his keys and unlocks the door with cold fingers, kicking it open and nodding at Antfrost to go inside. He pries the keys out of the lock and closes the door behind them, exhaling. He doesn’t have heating, but the walls and insulation make it at least a little bit warmer than outside, and as soon as he starts cooking what Antfrost has asked for, it’ll heat up in here.

The front door opens directly to the small tiled kitchen that Red uses almost exclusively for manufacturing. The counters are occupied by synthesis stands and bunsen burners, and the open cupboards are full of jars of multicolored chemicals. Red sets his bag on the ground and rolls up his hoodie sleeves, nudging his chin at Antfrost. “Can you pull the pots out of that and put them in the fridge?”

Antfrost nods, turning around from where he was ogling the liquid-filled glass on Red’s shelves. Red slips past him and reaches up, pulling down four different bottles and putting them on the counter. This is a simple recipe, it shouldn’t take him long. He starts the blue flame of the burner and holds his hands over it, letting his numbed fingers warm up.

“How large of a radius do you need this to cover?” Red swirls a vial of zolazepam hydrochloride, then checks the temperature of the flame and turns it down slightly.

“I don’t know, big?” Antfrost rests his elbows on the counter, staring at the swirls of bubbles in the depths of the liquid. “Like, small stadium sized.”

Red whistles, sloshing tiletamine into one of the vials in the synthesis stand. Some of it splashes on his fingers, adding to the stains on his skin. He doesn’t mind. Antfrost is definitely planning something very, very interesting tonight. Hopefully no one can trace the origins of the sedative back to Red. He adds a few more chemicals to another vial, caps them both, and presses a button to start the process. He puts a few pumps of nitrous oxide into the mixing chamber.

“It’s like a cock-fighting ring,” Antfrost bursts out.

“You mean a strip club?” Red raises an eyebrow.

“Wh--no.” Antfrost blinks. Pauses. Gathers his words again. He’s cute when he’s flustered. “It’s like a pit where they get genetically modded animals to fight and bet on it. They have a bunch of chimeras trapped in there.”

“So you want to get them out, huh?” Red turns a valve and watches as the two vials mix, emerald green and golden liquid swirling together.

Antfrost nods.

“Why tonight?”

“They keep them all locked up except for the fights.” Antfrost explains. His ears flatten back against his head as he speaks. “But they’ll all be out in their cages tonight. So if I can knock the entire place unconscious…”

“You can get them out.” Red finishes. “What are you gonna do with them after? Keep them in your basement?”

“Drive them to the edge of the city and let them out.” Ant’s tail has slipped free from wherever he was hiding it, and Red is so distracted by its back-and-forth swishing that he almost forgets to turn down the flame exactly when the mixture is boiling at 211° Fahrenheit.

Antfrost wants to be a hero.

Red grew up in the bowels of Hypixel City, pinching pennies like his parents taught him to. He only stayed off the streets due to an unusually high tolerance for chemicals that landed him a job at a pharmacy, mixing drugs for addicts trying to get their fix through the guise of medicine. He’s experienced with cynicism, with people busy deciding something wasn’t their problem simply because they didn’t have the strength to care. And here was this hybrid man, planning an optimistic rescue mission just because he knew animals were being hurt and it made him sad.

Kindness. Red wonders when it became something unfamiliar to him.

The liquid he’s mixed evaporates into a faint yellow mist that he splits into three different vials. He caps them and lines them up on the counter. Antfrost reaches for the one still under Red’s hand and, impulsively, he slides it farther away from the hybrid’s grasp.

“I’m coming.” Red declares. Antfrost looks up, pupils dilating and expanding to make his blue eyes suddenly seem three times bigger. Fuck, that’s cute.

“Are you sure?” He asks, screwing up his face.

“Absolutely.” Red nods.

“Can you fight at all?” Antfrost steps back and gives Red a once-over.

“I don’t carry a baseball bat around just because it makes me look sexy.” Red reminds him.

“Okay, sure,” Antfrost says doubtfully.

“When do we leave?”

Antfrost looks around for a clock on the walls, turning in a slow circle and finding none. Red shakes his sleeve back from his wrist and holds his arm out to let the hybrid read the time. It’s 5:43 in the afternoon.

“I have to get back to Bad’s bar and work.” Antfrost yanks his hood back up over his head. “But I’ll come get you around midnight, if you’re still up for it.”

Red leans against the wall to let him pass. “I will be.”

Antfrost casts a glance over his shoulder, eyes glowing faint blue from the inside of his hood. “Are you sure? You really, actually want to help?”

“Don’t have a reason not to.” Red shrugs.

There’s a long silence, then Antfrost finally says a soft thank you and leaves.

[eagehaunting]

Mystery March 2021 day 12: Friend

This is actually a sequel to the day 10 prompt! I hope you all enjoy!

A heavy beat from the drums of one of the bands made Lewis’s heart race. With each beat setting off a new wave of impulses and urges. Tapping his fingers against his tequila, Lewis wets his lips and tries to keep his attention solely on Arthur.

Arthur, who sips his Irish cream eagerly and softly pants. Considering that Arthur had been jumping around and dancing around him within a crowd, as musicians blare and sweat drenched people collide, it wasn’t a huge surprise. But Lewis almost wished he was in the crowd again, distracted by the loud noise, head too full of euphoria to pay attention to the pesky thoughts that kept poking at him.

Kiss him, just do it. Look at his face, look at his lips. Do it. Do it-

The tequila rushes down his throat roughly. Lewis resists the urge to cough against the acidic liquid. Thankful that it stopped his stream of thoughts and turning to god this is horrible.

Arthur casts him a glance, sipping his drink and letting it hit the table a bit harder than usual.

“You like it? Your drink, I mean?” He asks, staring at Lewis with wide eyes. So unlike him and yet so... nice. The wall between them felt lower, and if Lewis wanted to, he could step right over and grasp those flushed cheeks and got a taste of Irish cream-

Another sip. Clenching his eyes shut as the bitterness has him shivering. Finally Lewis nods and squishes his near empty cup, hardly realizing that it was close to empty. “I do actually. Thank you for buying me a few, it’s been nice.”

“Your f-face says otherwise.” Arthur murmurs, hardly lifting his mouth from his straw.

Lewis bobs his head in agreement, “I think I drank a bit too much. I’m actually getting a headache now.”

“Shit,” Arthur swallows thickly and his hand shoots out, grabbing Lewis’s hand- his drink, pulling his drink from Lewis’s clumsy fingers with more grace than he imagined from the drunk man. “We-well then maybe we should head out? I t-told Ya’ I wouldn’t keep you out here long.”

Before Lewis could object to his drink being stolen, Arthur’s hands stutter, and the glass tips over.

“Fuck!” They both say at the same time. Lewis snags a few napkins and frantically tries to wipe, Arthur scrambles to grab the glass, failing to avoid spilling the drink. “D-dammit, Lew, I’m sorry- shit. W-want me to buy a drink to go?” Arthur asks, voice high with worry. Lewis flickers up, frown falling with a sigh.

“It’s.. it’s fine. Really, don’t worry. Pl-plus, one of us should be a bit more sober when we go to get a cab out of here.”

Deflating, Arthur nods and miserably tries to suck down the rest of his. He downs a quarter of the glass easily before sputtering.

Look at him. We never see him like this. He’s so cute, so nice, why don’t we just say it-

Lewis’s eyebrows furrowing as he eyes the wet napkins holding his distraction.

Shit. He narrowly glances at the kernels of popcorn left in their mini bucket to his left, and the small bag of leftovers besides his feet.

Arthur’s lightly bouncing his toes. Eyes drifting over the crowd of people on the hill surrounding a stage, where a familiar band plays tunes Lewis could faintly recall singing along to on the way there-

Arthur gasps. Reacting to a new chord. He whips back to Lewis, bowing across the table and smacking his fingers against the grated table. “Lewis-! Ca-can we stay for just this song? I really like it and as soon as it’s over we can leave-“

Reaching over the table and lightly touching Arthur’s hand, Lewis waves off His rambling.

“Sounds perfect. I can order a cab now and clean up, and after this song we can leave.”

Arthur’s eyes light up, he nods eagerly. “N-need some help?”

“No, I got it. Just sit back and enjoy the song, okay?”

The song is bouncy, reminding Lewis of a tropical beach. Palm trees and sparkling lights that zip across the night sky. As well as the interior of a night club. He faintly pays attention to the song as he unzips his backpack and pulls out his and Arthur’s jackets, when the chorus catches attention.

I wanna ruin our friendship,

we should be lovers instead.

I don’t know how to say this, ‘cus you’re really my dearest friend.

Lewis’s heart stills. This has to be a joke. A cruel joke set up by the universe. A chill takes across his shoulders as the heartbeat like drums tap into his own, making his fingers twitch in time. Dropping the jacket onto Arthur’s lap, Lewis mumbles a command to put them on before gathering his trash and quickly escaping to throw them away.

See? Everything is telling you to go for it. He’ll accept, he has to, just listen!

His heart races, pounds. Every thought turned into a reflection of Arthur, his best friend, his.. crush. And all he wants to do is grab Arthur and pull him into a tight hug and hope that Arthur will understand what it means.

No. He cant. He can’t do that, what if it ruins everything? Arthur might hate him, might detest him, want nothing to do with him, leave him stranded.

But he might not.

Lewis’s heart stills, his skin prickling as a breeze presses against his front. Pushing him back to Arthur.

Turning around, Lewis catches Arthur’s eye. His new black hoodie makes his bright hair stand out, and highlights the warmth on his face. Amazing, his perfect, handsome best friend, waiting for him to come back so they can leave together.

I wanna ruin our friendship,

I don’t know how to say this,

’cus you’re really my dearest friend.

Lewis clears his throat as his feet move without warning. “H-hey, Arthur, can I tell you something?”

What was he even thinking to say? Hey Arthur, I love you in a romantic way. Arthur I want to be yours forever. I want to ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead-

Whatever sat on Lewis’s tongue vanished in an instant as he came within three feet of Arthur. His hands raised and grab at Arthur’s shoulders. Before Lewis realizes it, he’s leaning in.

Arthur’s eyes widen, Lewis’s eyebrows arch.

Their lips meet, and both of them freeze.

Lewis’s chest feels hollow as his heart fills it all with a racing beat, making his arms, legs, and stomach shaky as the moment replays again and again in his head. What may have been two seconds, felt like an hour before Lewis draws back. Panting, face and body tense, head throbbing with a new type of pain. His eyes searching desperately.

Arthur stares at Lewis blankly, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, face filled with shock or surprise or something that Lewis couldn’t really explain.

Arthur’s lip quirks up in what could have been a smile, but it’s apprehensive nature makes Lewis’s heart drop, “Wh-what was... Lewis? Why... what’s that about..?”

“I...” Lewis’s hands dangle there, lightly trembling. The song switches to something else with a roar from the crowd, becoming muffled as realization hits. “Arthur, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was doing.” Tell him, tell him, TELL HIM! “I-I really like you, Arthur.” Lewis’s entire body shudders, weakness taking hold of every muscle as he tries to avert his eyes, only to land on Arthur. “I always have, ever since we were kids. I wanted- the entire trip I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how- or if it was even okay! I wanted to just s-say it. I’ve been wanting to kiss you this whole night, but I didn’t mean to force you-“

He’s lightly hit in the center of the chest, before Arthur grabs his shoulders. Lewis’s body and heart stills.

“Wait- seriously? You too? I- I mean we can keep kissing too if you want! I-I know I was kinda shit a minute ago, but I was just surprised.”

Wait huh? Lewis blinks as Arthur tries to close the gap between them again, but he pulls back, holding Arthur steady by his shoulder.

The incessant thoughts that were plaguing Lewis that whole day vanished, leaving him with his rational and his logic and a heavy cloud of what just happened looming over him. A storm cloud twisting in his racing chest and reminding him every way that this wasn’t okay.

But the tequila clouds his thoughts. All rational hidden in the cloud of smoke.

“W-wait. Maybe we can ... let’s wait until tomorrow? We’re a bit drunk right now, and I think that maybe we should talk about this when we wake up.”

He can only imagine Arthur’s thoughts spiraling by the confusion in his face, but Lewis pats his shoulder to snap him out of it. “N-not that I don’t think we should stop kissing, but I didn’t want our f-first to be like that. Right?”

Really, Lewis didn’t want Arthur to wake up filled with regret tomorrow. A measly kiss could be written off, but making out entirely? No. Lewis wasn’t going to allow it to go that far. His body already forced them enough.

They can wait.

And in fact, they did.

It wasn’t long waiting for their driver, not was it long to sit in the cab. Lightly brushing their fingers against the others and avoiding directly looking at each other. When they got back into their hotel, Lewis had to coax Arthur into the night ritual of brushing their teeth and undressing, as well as drinking some water before they crawled into their one, shared bed.

Lewis wasn’t sure how he managed to fall asleep so quickly, with his racing thoughts all surrounding his best friend beside him.

When he woke up, it all hit him all at once. The kiss most prominently lingering in his mind.

Being on his stomach let Lewis feel the cold sheets beside him, and lewis cracks open his eye to confirm that Arthur wasn’t still sleeping. In fact, Lewis caught a glimpse of the pale man leaning against the counter, with the familiar drip-drip of their portable coffee maker. The sun shining against his skin, making Arthur glow radiantly.

He might hate you. A thought points out, and Lewis closes his eyes to try and will away the churn in his stomach. The fear, the terror, the guilt...

His best friend, may hate him entirely...

Then as he shifts in his seat, a throb prickles through his head and Lewis groans unintentionally as the hangover blooms. He won’t be able to fall asleep now... maybe he should get it over with and get up.

Whimpering, Lewis pushes himself up and rolls onto his back, rubbing his palm against his forehead.

“Good morning, Lewis pepper.” Arthur’s croaky voice says, calm and gentle, Lewis could hear the smile on his face before he even opened his eyes. “Sleep well?”

“Mm,” Lewis groans and finally looks over at him, “I have a headache.”

“Hang over?”

“Yeah.”

There’s footsteps coming at him before a clink. Lewis opens his eyes, and a glass of water and two capsules are pressed into his face. Lewis takes it gratefully and swallows it back. Pushing himself off the bed, Lewis stretches and breaths in deeply, taking in the aroma of coffee and sweat from last night.

Arthur clears his throat, suddenly right behind Lewis, and becomes startlingly apparent when Arthur taps his shoulder and Lewis whirls around.

“So,” Arthur’s mouth is twisted up in his typical Kingsmen grin, it makes Lewis’s chest warm, “now that we aren’t totally blasted, let’s chat?”

It takes Lewis a moment to get over the surprise and embarrassment lodged in his throat before he nods. “Sure. I know I didn’t explain myself to to the best of my abilities. Perhaps over some coffee?”

“Sounds good. I have some brewing already, and I got your thermos ready for you.” Arthur thumbs to the kitchen and behind guiding Lewis there.

“Oh, how sweet.”

“Well of course, I am the sweetest!” Arthur says with a lazy flourish. Grabbing the coffee pot, Arthur begins to pour and Lewis takes his seat. Arthur then splashes in a sugar packet, a splash of milk, and a second larger splash of cinnamon creamer. His favorite, Lewis couldn’t resist smiling as he takes a sip.

“Thank you, Artie. It tastes really nice.”

“It does? Need any more sugar?”

“Hm,” another sip, “one more packet.”

Arthur tosses one to Lewis and takes a seat, folding his arms.

“So, I feel like I should ask one thing of you, Lew Lew.”

Pausing, Lewis hides his blush behind his thermos. Arthur continues.

“Give me a warning next time you’re going to steal my breath away?”

Lewis sputters and coughs into his hand, looking away. “I-I told you, I didn’t know what came over me. I’m not going to do it again.”

“And I didn’t think it would have happened at all. But one moment I was drinking Irish cream, jamming out, and the next minute all I could taste was tequila!” Lewis rolls his eyes and drinks his coffee as a distraction, and Arthur breathed out with amusement. “Not that I wouldn’t mind it happening again.”

[comfortatz]

maybe mixing cake and a huge cup of a sugary latte wasn’t the best idea. jisung’s stomach sure didn’t think so. it was currently disagreeing with what all jisung put in it, making him feel queasy. 

the latte was to fuel his attempts at finishing his essay. he had agreed to meet up with hyunjin in the student center after the both of them complained about schoolwork driving them insane. it was better to suffer together than to suffer alone. the cake was being given away by some org that jisung really couldn’t care about, but he wasn’t one to turn down free cake. 

hyunjin had given him a disgusted look when he saw what jisung had brought, knowing well that jisung could only tolerate the taste of espresso if it was mixed with so much sugary flavors that he could barely taste it anymore. he also knew that jisung had a tendency to drink his lattes at a concerning speed, often resulting in upsetting his stomach and hyunjin having to listen to him complain about it.

after eating the cake and chugging a good portion of his latte, jisung finally got to work on his essay. for a while, it went okay; he wasn’t the best at writing essays, but he could manage a good grade. he drank a bit more of his latte as he worked, the overly sweet taste making his throat burn and little. 

it was about an hour into writing his essay that his stomach decided to make its complaints very well known. it started off as a slight nausea and twinge in his belly that soon developed into a full bellyache that had him swallowing nervously. it was hard to focus on his paper with his stomach gurgling ominously.

across from him, hyunjin had noticed the change in jisung’s demeanor. he had warned the other that all the sugar would probably upset his stomach, so he wasn’t too surprised to see jisung looking a bit green.

jisung stifled a sour burp in his fist, wincing as a cramp had him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. he gave a heart hearted attempt at writing his essay some more, mostly to get hyunjin to stop staring at him like he was going to puke all over the table (his stomach churned dangerously at the thought). he tried to read over his notes for some sort of inspiration, but the nausea was thick and very, very distracting. 

he snuck a hand under his shirt and rub small circles against his stomach, trying to alleviate the pain without drawing too much attention to himself. his stomach was bloated against his fingertips and he could feel how upset the organ was, the coffee sloshing around unpleasantly with the cake. he stifled another burp, one that had hot acid licking the back of his throat and worsening the nausea. for a moment, he almost succumbed and threw up all over his laptop. after some harsh swallows, however, the violent urge to vomit crept back down and settled in his stomach. he slouched over the desk, leaning his head on his hand and sighing deeply.

by now, it was obvious to hyunjin that jisung was feeling very, very sick. “i told you all that sugar would upset your stomach,” he said, typing on his laptop.

jisung moaned, sliding down further onto the table until his face was pressed up against it. the coolness felt nice against the heat of nausea. he mentally plotted out a map towards the nearest bathroom, knowing he would have to pay it a visit sooner or later. his stomach lurched and he hiccuped.

it seemed that visit was going to happen much, much sooner rather than later.

jisung abruptly stood up, still hunched over his stomach, and began to speed walk to the bathroom. he kept his head down, the world around him spinning and morphing into nauseous colors and sounds. his speed picked up a bit more when he felt a gag rise and squeeze his throat, causing him to slap a hand over his mouth.

jisung stumbled into the bathroom, slamming a bathroom stall door open before gagging loudly over the toilet. his mouth tasted sour and was filled with saliva that he couldn’t swallow back. his stomach gave a loud rumble and he heaved again, finally bringing up a small mouthful of vomit.

he breathed heavily, groaning as he realized his stomach wasn’t going to make it any easy vomiting session. despite feeling ridiculously nauseous, his stomach refused to bring anything else up. his hands were clutching the rim of the toilet so hard his knuckles were white and he could feel his body trembling.

after a very sick sounding burp, his belly finally gave in and began violently forcing out its contents, desperate to get rid of the coffee and cake. jisung could barely catch his breath between bringing up copious amounts of puke.

somewhere amid the storm of retching, he became vaguely aware of someone holding his bangs back and a hand gently rubbing his back. it was a small relief, something that grounded him.

jisung coughed and panted, throat raw from vomiting so much. his stomach had calmed down momentarily, but he could still feel it rolling with sick anticipation. his head was spinning from overexertion and the lack of oxygen; all he could do was slump onto the toilet rim, unable to hold himself up any longer. 

“oh sungie,” he heard hyunjin coo, the hand on his forehead moving through his hair gently. it felt nice, and jisung let his eyes flutter shut. “your poor tummy doesn’t feel too good, huh?”

that felt like an understatement, considering how bad he was feeling. “i’m never having cake again,” jisung whimpered.

he let hyunjin maneuver him off of the toilet, instead having him lean against hyunjin. jisung automatically hid his face in hyunjin’s oversized sweater, the other’s arms wrapping around him. hyunjin didn’t seem to mind risking getting puked on, which jisung appreciated.

“do you think you can make it back to my apartment?” hyunjin asked.

jisung nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure if he could. he’d much rather be stuck puking in hyunjin’s bathroom than in the very public one in the student center.

hyunjin seemed to sense his doubt, but didn’t try to make them stay. he helped jisung get up onto his shaky legs, explaining that he had already packed their bags so that they could head back.

“i’ll take care of you as long as you need, even if it’s your own fault that you’re sick,” hyunjin promised.

jisung gave him a shaky smile, a bit unsteady from feeling both dizzy and nauseous. perhaps he should have listened to his body when not three steps outside of the bathroom, jisung bent over and threw up again all over the floor.

hyunjin sighed. it was going to be a long day.

[staranon95]

DinCobb Week Day 1: Clan of Three (SFW)

@dincobbweek is finally here! ive never participated in something like this before so hopefully i don’t run away with any of the ideas lol. anyway, here’s my version of Clan of Three

AO3 Link

i could never stay away (not this time not from you)

“This was well earned, partner.”

The Marshal Vanth hefts the Mandalorian armour onto Din’s speeder. The man no longer seems to be morose at the fact of losing the armour and seems rather relieved that it’s all over.

“It was a good fight,” Vanth says, looking out over that half carven carcass of the krayt itself. “I hate to see that it’s finally over.”

“I thought you would be happy to see the threat to your town is over,” Din says as he secures the armour to his speeder. He covers the slab of meat while he’s at it, and the Child turns his ears down now that his easy source for a free meal is covered.

“I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout the krayt.” Vanth sends him one of those easy smiles in Din’s direction, and Din has to look to the speeder, setting his hands on the helmet. “Listen if you ever find yourself in the area.”

Din nods once. “I’ll have to take you up on that drink. If it’s still available.”

“Hey, I hope our paths will cross again. But you got a friend in me, partner.” He extends his hand and Din reaches up to shake it, and it remains for a time, Vanth squeezing reassuringly before he slides his hand away in what can only be a deliberate move. “Oh, and you tell your people it wasn’t me that broke that thing.” He points to the Rising Phoenix before he’s walking off, armourless and relaxed, towards his people and the Tuskens.

Din sets his hand on the helmet and rubs his hand down over the crown of it. When he hears the Child coo next to him in a questioning tone, he realizes he’s still staring at Vanth’s retreating figure and the lean lines of his body.

He turns to the Child. “What do you think?”

The Child tilts his head, ears flicking upward.

“Want to get back to the ship or stay for the night?”

“Abwa.”

“That’s what I’d thought you’d say. Hold on.”

He lifts the Child and sets him in the bag that sits on the side of the speeder. The Child knows what’s coming and hunkers down as Din mounts the speeder and ignites the engine for the long road back to Mos Eisley.

This time his journey only takes a matter of hours rather than a full day. He knows where Mos Pelgo is now and it’s a fairly direct route through the rocky outcroppings and shifting dunes. Four or five hours by speeder? It’s not a bad ride, and he’s left undisturbed throughout the entirety of it, pulling into Mos Eisley just after the twin suns have passed their zenith.

He’s looking forward to the cool embrace of the Razor Crest. He can’t say he likes Tatooine for it’s sun and heat, and his flight suit and beskar’gam do not make for a cool system to work within.

He swings his leg off of the speeder and lifts the cover off of the krayt meat as Peli Motto approaches him.

“I take it your trip was a success?” She marvels at the slap of meat and snaps her fingers at her droids to come over and handle it.

“In more than one way,” Din says as he begins to take his equipment off of the borrowed speeder in an effort to return it to the Razor Crest.

“Oh! Mando, before you go.” She holds her hands up and looks to the Child expectantly, and Din nods. “Aha, come here you little womprat.” The Child extends his arms to be picked out of the bag, but his attention is still on the meat and to where the pit droids have carried it to an open grill. “So I guess you found it then? Mos Pelgo?”

“I did indeed.”

“What’s it like out that way?”

“Small.”

“Well, that’s frontier towns out there for ya.”

“Do you know of the town’s Marshal at all? Cobb Vanth?”

“Cobb Vanth you say?” Peli looks to the sky and then turns her attention to the Child. “Can’t say I have. The name sounds familiar, though. There was a rebellion a few years back before the second Death Star went—” she uses her free hand to mimic an explosion “—it could’ve been one of his names I was hearing.”

Din hums. He wonders if she’s recalling the story of the Mining Collective that attacked Vanth’s town, but Vanth seems the type to have been in the rebellion business awhile. Sticking up for the small folks. Building something out of nothing. Giving everything he has to those he’s decided to protect.

Including giving up a set of Mandalorian battle armour even if that armour could’ve saved him countless more times.

“So are you heading out tonight then?” Peli asks.

“I was thinking . . .” He trails off and looks to the ship then looks at the armour he clutches in a bundle.

He never did take the Marshal up on his drink.

“I think I might stay for a few days yet,” he says. “There are still some unfinished matters I have to see to.”

“Ah, well, that’s the charm of Tatooine then. Everyone’s itching to leave ‘til they realize there’s more to it than meets the eye. Some of the old timers like to say everything starts and end on Tatooine but that’s only because they’ve never been anywhere.”

Din knows he has a promise to keep. To find the Child’s people and bring him to them. And his own personal drive of locating Mandalorians, his tribe, his own people.

If he has a people.

“At least stay for a bite to eat,” Peli says. “Seems like the kid here is wanting to have something too.”

Din nods. This is something he can do.

There are many things in his life that would be categorized as unfinished business, missed opportunities and the like. If he has to admit it, he would say he’s tired—tired of the grind, of the running, of fighting, and it’s been a long time since he’s connected to someone so quickly like Vanth. Not since Cara Dune perhaps but their professions will lead them in different places. Vanth is here. He’s welcoming and he wants to see more of Din.

And Din, well, he wants to see more of Vanth. How he learned to use the armour. What it was like for him to use the Rising Phoenix the first time.

He might not be a Mandalorian, but he does possess certain traits and qualities a Mandalorian would themselves be admired for.

What if there’s something there? What if there’s a connection?

He can’t know unless he tries.

He sets out just as the first sun touches the horizon. The armour is safely stowed on his ship to make his travel lighter. The Child is safe in his bag, peering out across the sand as they race across it once more, coming into Mos Pelgo just after the suns have set. The town is clearly celebrating the defeat of the krayt and the new peace between them and the Tuskens. The cantina in the center of town is a lively and bright affair, and for a moment as Din pulls the speeder in front of it, he wonders if he shouldn’t have come. It’ll be a lot of attention on him, and he has no intention of being worshipped as a hero. That’s not who he is.

He lifts the Child out of the bag and holds him in his arms. He’ll likely be crushed if they head into the cantina with how full it appears to be.

He walks up the steps and into the cantina and immediately heads turn towards him.

“Hey! Look it’s the Mandalorian!”

The breath in his lungs feels tight at the sudden rush of attention, for people looking his way and wanting to greet him, but then he sees one person cut through the crowd easily—Marshal Vanth.

He’s still dressed as he was—red shirt, cargo pants with a blaster sat in a holster on his hip. The only thing he has removed is his scarf, exposing the lean line of his neck.

“Mando!” He looks genuinely surprised and happy to see Din, a bit pink in the cheeks from imbibing a touch too much spotchka perhaps, but he seems steady on his feet even as he claps a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Didn’t expect to see you back so soon! What brings you out this way, huh?”

“I, uh, thought I’d might like to take you up on that drink.”

Vanth’s face splits into a wide grin. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’. Come with me.” He slings his arm over Din’s shoulders, leading him through the full establishment and keeping the others at bay. “Leave him be, ya vultures.” But it’s all said in good jest and soon Din is being shown to an empty booth far to the other side of the cantina where he and Vanth can sit in peace.

“You mind if I?” Vanth holds up his hands towards the Child, and Din hands him over. The Child is already reaching for Vanth, and they did become close with one another while they negotiated a deal with the Tuskens. It’s why he chose Vanth to look after him if things were to end poorly. He knew, deep down, that Vanth would care for him. Just as he cares for this town and everyone in it.

“I was gonna miss this little fella,” Vanth says. “He sure does pull you in with those big eyes, now doesn’t he?”

“He has,” Din says, but his eyes are on Vanth himself and how relaxed he seems now, like a huge burden has been lifted. He looks happy to be here, and Din wants to bask in that for a little while longer.

They end up talking for a bit, Vanth more often than not and Din less so. Vanth doesn’t seem to mind that Din doesn’t talk about much, but when Din does talk, Vanth looks at him and listens. He asks questions. He asks for clarification if needed. But he listens, and Din doesn’t know about the last time when someone listened like this.

And as the night draws on and as the cantina slowly empties, Din is beginning to feel a deep-seated weariness settle into his joints and bones. The fight is over and now he must rest but—

“I got a spare room,” Vanth offers. “Could get something together for the kid here.” The Child has fallen asleep in the crook of Din’s arm, his ears downturned despite the hum and drum of the cantina.

“I don’t mean to put this on you.”

“Eh, it’s nothing. Just being a good neighbour. And I’m still the Marshal here. It’s my duty to look after folks. Come on. I won’t hear nothin’ about it.”

He follows Vanth to his house, this little place partially sunken into the ground as is Tatooine fashion. It’s a small place, but more space than Din is used to or has been treated to in a long time. Vanth sees that the Child is set down in something of a makeshift crib, and then it’s just the two of them and no one else.

Vanth stretches and rubs at the back of his neck. Then he turns his gaze to Din. “So what now, Mando? You looking to stay for a while?”

“For now.” He looks to the photos hanging on Vanth’s walls, the bookshelf covered in more knickknacks than actual books, the striped blanket over the back of the couch. “I feel as if there is unfinished business between us.”

“Business, huh?” Vanth brushes past him and sits down on the couch, looking relaxed and inviting. “Anything business you want to discuss right now?”

By the way he’s looking at Din, he knows what Din is meaning by the use of business.

“I’m not sure,” Din says.

“Well, lucky for you I’m a patient man. Now come here.” He pats the cushion next to him. “If you don’t mind me sayin’, I want to get a better look at you.”

Din feels himself flush and he moves slowly, deliberately, and sits down next to Vanth.

“There are a lot of things I can offer,” Vanth says. “But it depends on what you’re looking for.”

“And what if I’m not sure?”

“We take things at your pace.”

It’s a lot to consider yet what this halt in Din’s quest, but he thinks he needs this. He thinks he needs Vanth more than he realizes. Needs the respite. Needs the comfort. Needs the support.

He had offered that all to Vanth in the beginning, and now Vanth is here to repay the favour.

“My pace.”

“Mmhm.”

“Then I think it’s only right you know my name. It’s Din.”

Vanth smiles. “Nice to have it, Din. Call me Cobb.”

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Sweet Pandemonium - Gally (The Maze Runner) Part 10 of 16

Wow, I updated. What a shockerrrrr

~~~~~~~~~~

You bounced on the heels of your feet, anxious and excited, waiting behind the front door of your shared apartment with Teresa.

She somehow convinced Ava Paige to let you roam around the city for a few hours, saying that it would be helpful for you. You had no idea if that would be true, but you were grateful anyway. Although, you were going to be guarded the entire time. 

You understood why, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. 

“You ready?” Teresa smiled at you.

You nodded. “Yeah, ready to leave this place for once.”

“Just be careful, okay? Listen to the guard, and don’t try and escape. I won’t be able to do anything for you if you misbehave.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right...”

There was a loud knock on the front door, opening it to reveal your guard for the afternoon, dressed in casual attire so he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself.

“Love you...”

You looked back at Teresa, slightly scowling. You tried not to scoff as you exited the apartment.

As soon as you left the building, you went wide eyed at how different the Last City looked from the ground. You had only seen it from that window, but now you were actually experiencing it for yourself.

Mostly everybody walking around were wearing masks, probably paranoid about getting the Flare. But you frowned when you saw how many children were walking with their parents, and infants in strollers.

You couldn’t help but almost tear up at the thought of all those kids dying from the Flare. You thought of your baby sister, how you would’ve done anything to save her and your parents if you had the chance.

But you forced yourself to think back to Minho, to all the kids that W.C.K.D. were torturing. You could never condone what they did, what they’re still doing. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw something that almost made your heart skip a beat. But you just decided it was your imagination. It had to be, right?

You looked to your left, and you realized it couldn’t be your mind playing tricks on you.

Thomas?

You went wide eyed when you saw him, in the middle of the street, no less. He gave you a smile, his eyes telling you to follow him. But with the soldier that was assigned to guard you, you knew it wouldn’t be so easy.

You wished you could tell him you needed to come up with a plan first.

It took so much convincing and begging from Teresa just for you to leave your cell. Trying to convince Ava to allow you to walk around the city, even for your mental health, was damn near impossible.

So how the hell were you going to ditch your guard?

You quickly surveyed the area, seeing different types of shops, company buildings, and restaurants of that sort.

Then suddenly, the idea hit you. You could almost feel the metaphorical lightbulb going off above your head. You turned back to look at your guard. “I literally have to take the biggest shit right now.”

You guard cringed in disgust. “Can’t you wait?”

“Do you want me to shit my pants, dude? The tower is so far away, I won’t be able to make it. Please.” You begged, trying to pull the best puppy dog eyes you never thought you’d ever do in your life.

The guard sighed. “Alright, fine.” He led you into some clothing store, going to the very back where the bathrooms were. “Try to hurry.”

You quickly entered the bathroom, grinning to yourself as you immediately noticed the window at the back of the room. It wasn’t too small. Thankfully, you weren’t too large. It would be a squeeze, but you’d make do.

You locked the door, pushing the trashcan in front just in case. Hopping up on the toilet seat as quietly as possible, reaching up to open the window. You jumped, thrusting yourself into the opening, trying not to groan in pain as the edge put pressure on your stomach.

You looked down to see the window was in the middle of an alleyway, away from the busy street. Huh, how lucky...

You fell very ungracefully out of the window, landing on the concrete with a thud, the impact knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“That definitely could’ve been executed better.”

You jumped at the voice, hopping to your feet, but slowly relaxing when you saw Thomas smiling softly at you. And just like that, all the pain you endured from Teresa, all the hopelessness you felt while trapped in that tower, it all seemed to fade away, just from that one smile.

You ran to him, quickly enthralling him in a tight hug. You heard Thomas chuckle breathlessly from the force of your embrace, but he held you back just as tightly.

Memories of laughing together played over and over again in your mind as you held onto him. You already cared for Thomas, but having the memories back...you couldn’t explain it. He felt more and more like a true brother as the seconds passed.

Reuniting with him just felt like a breath of the cleanest air in the world, almost like how it felt after it rained in the Glade.

“Are you okay?” Thomas asked once you pulled away.

“I am now.” You tried to smile, but it only came out forced.

Thomas frowned when he looked you over. Your eyes were dull, almost sunken in, like you hadn’t slept in years. You were well fed, but you still looked malnourished due to how pale you looked.

“What happened to you?” His voice was quiet, almost like he was afraid to ask.

“It’s a long story...a story we don’t have time for, I’m afraid. My guard is waiting. So, whatever you have to say, make it quick.”

Thomas smirked, making you confused. “You underestimate me, Y/N. You don’t have to worry, I’ve taken care of it.”

You cringed. “Should I even ask?”

“Come on.” Thomas grabbed your hand, leading you out of the alleyway and to a van. You stopped, looking to him with hesitance. “It’s okay.” He smiled reassuringly.

You sighed. “I’m trusting you, Thomas.”

You hopped into the back of the van with Thomas, and it quickly took off. During the whole ride, he had a content look on his face. It couldn’t help but make you feel uneasy. Where were you even going?

The van soon came to a halt, and Thomas turned to you. “We have to walk from here. For our safety and yours, you’ll have to be blindfolded until we get there.”

You shook your head. “Wait, no, Thomas-”

“I’ll be with you the entire time, okay? You’re gonna be safe, I promise. You said you trusted me, right?” You nodded reluctantly, and with that, Thomas gently put a cloth bag over your head, completely obscuring your vision.

You both exited the van, Thomas holding your hand as he led you through wherever you were. You were almost sure you were cutting off his blood circulation with how hard you were squeezing his hand, but he kept telling you that you were okay.

“Okay, we’re here.” Thomas removed the bag and you could finally see.

You looked around to see that you were in some sort of abandoned church. Why here?

“Y/N...”

You froze, heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears...you knew that voice, that voice was in your dreams every single night. But, no, it couldn’t be possible...he was dead.

You slowly looked up to see who the voice belonged to. You felt a sudden chill go down your spine as you couldn’t believe your eyes. Was this a dream? A nightmare? No, it couldn’t be real. You were still at W.C.K.D. You must be. They must be trying to trick you into believing that you escaped.

But still, knowing that it wasn’t real didn’t stop you from shedding tears. “This is so sick...even for them.” You cried.

Thomas took a step forward, but you immediately recoiled. “Y/N, what’re you talking about?”

You quickly shut your eyes tightly, placing your hands to your ears to try and block out the booming thuds in your head. “This isn’t real. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” You kept telling yourself. “Please, stop this. Wake up...”

“Y/N, stop. You’re okay. You’re not dreaming.” Thomas tried to console you.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like a whole Griever was sitting on your chest, putting intense pressure on your lungs. You couldn’t control the sobs that rattled in your chest, making you tremble.

“One, two, seven, five, three...three, five, seven, two, one...”

You soon felt a pair of arms wrap around you. Thomas tried to calm you down, but it wasn’t working. You heard him order everyone out of the room.

This is such an elaborate simulation...

“Y/N...” Thomas whispered. “You’re okay. You’re okay, you’re not at W.C.K.D. This is real. I’m real. Me, Thomas.”

You looked up at Thomas, almost expecting him to turn into some horrid monster from the twisted imaginations of the people that experimented on you. But he didn’t. He just stared at you with the utmost concern in his golden brown eyes. You were so afraid to speak, you wanted this to be real so bad.

“You’re real?” Your voice broke.

Thomas nodded, smiling through the pain of seeing you in such a state. “Yes. Yes, I’m real.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, keeping your hold on Thomas. “Wait...but that means...”

Gally was alive?

After a few more minutes of trying to pull yourself together again, Thomas thought it was finally safe to bring everyone back in one by one. First, Newt entered the room.

“Newt.” You walked to him, quickly engulfing him in a hug.

“You’ve looked better, love.” He joked, well, it sounded like a joke to you, but he was really concerned.

“So have you.” You replied. “You need a haircut.” You tried to tease, but it didn’t make him smile.

Frypan couldn’t wait that much longer and entered the room and ran to you, giving you a huge bear hug that startled you, but you didn’t expect anything less when it came to your friend.

Then, Brenda and Jorge came out. “You’re still alive?” You asked her, shocked that she hasn’t turned into a Crank by now.

“Disappointed?” She smirked, pushing you softly before wrapping her arms around you while Jorge gave you a friendly smile.

And last but not least.

He walked in slowly, so slowly that it almost looked like slow motion. He didn’t want to scare you, certainly didn’t want to give you another panic attack. He wasn’t expecting that reaction. But he guessed it was reasonable, considering that seeing a person you thought was dead was suddenly not dead, but very much alive.

You felt more tears brimming your eyes again. The feelings of being in a simulation coming back, but this was real. He was real, and he was here. He was alive somehow.

“Gally?” You whimpered pitifully.

“Hey, Y/N...” Gally said, tears of his own brimming his eyes.

“You’re alive...”

Gally wanted to run to you, hug you and never let you go. But he knew how sensitive you were right now. So, he stayed where he was. “Yeah...I am.” He chuckled softly.

Almost like something clicked in your brain, you finally one hundred percent believed that this was all real. You didn’t wait one more second, you went to him. You ran to Gally and threw yourself on to him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. “You’re really here...” You cried, squeezing even more tightly than you already were.

Gally wrapped his arms around your waist, placing his face to your neck to breathe you in, making sure you were really there with him as he almost didn’t believe it himself.

The both of you stayed that way, almost four whole minutes of keeping in each other’s embrace. The only reason you pulled away was to look at him. He had a buzzcut, and he felt even stronger than he was in the Glade. He had a couple tears rolling down his face as he looked at you.

“How?” You stuttered. “How are you alive?”

Gally smiled. “Long story.”

His voice. You missed hearing his voice so much. You missed everything about him. His eyes, they were just as blue as the day you left him. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Gally. Not a day went by that I didn’t think of you.” You declared, the tears not even slowing down.

Gally reached up and caressed your face, and you leaned into his gentle touch. “I never stopped thinking about you. The thought that I might see you again was the only reason I could wake up in the morning.”

Gally pulled you back into his chest, but from the corner of his eye, he saw Thomas starting to walk over to the two of you. One glare from Gally was all it took for him to back off. He was not going to let that Greenie ruin this moment.

“I never thought I’d see you again...” You hiccupped.

“I’m here...I’m here.” Gally cooed. “And I’m never leaving you again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

 bruh finalllyyyy 😭