#i mean normally i find fucking around with my body highly amusing but right now it's just weird. last week i was depressed and then had a p

[obviouslacking]

medication titration is such a bonkers concept they're like here *throws prescription at your forehead* fuck around with your brain until something sticks, and so you basically have to treat yourself like a weird little science experiment for months

[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[save-the-villainous-cat]

request:

the villain and hero are still enemies but villain is hardcore flirting and hero is hardcore crushing

the villain, knowing hero sometimes has nightmares, asks how they slept the previous night

the hero begins explaining their dream and gets a sentence in before they realize what they had accidentally said:

"yeah last night's dream was weird. it started normally, i was making out with you-"

*(ꏿ﹏ꏿ;)*

They pushed the hero hard against the wall and drew their dagger in the same breath, poking it into the flesh of the hero’s abdomen. Pointing directly at their enemy’s liver, the villain could precisely cut it out in the most fatal way in seconds.

But they would never do that, obviously.

“What did I tell you, little hero?” The dagger wandered up to the hero’s face and tugged a strand of hair behind their ear. Though it was amusing to watch the hero tremble, the villain also knew they didn’t have much time to toy with their nemesis today.

“Uhm—”

“Exactly. Don’t get in my way.” They pressed their body against their blushing hero and redirected the dagger back to threaten one of their vital organs. Leaning in, their lips brushed the shell of the hero’s ears gently. “Else, I will find a way to make your throat burn pitilessly from too much choking or too much screaming my name. You can pick.”

The hero laughed nervously and their nose did that cute scrunching thing the villain caught sight of when they pulled away.

And that was supposed to be it. Nothing was supposed to happen after that. At least, not according to the villain’s plan. Threateningly flirting with the hero was funny, but they had places to be and business to take care of.

Liking the hero wouldn’t hold them back from pursuing their goals. As of right now.

So, they were about to turn around but the hero pulled them with their shaking hands closer. Their grip was tight on their wrist, yet soft and the villain cursed themselves for letting their gaze linger on the hero’s hand touching theirs for a little too long.

“Wait, uhm, are you a bank loan?” —What the fuck? — “Because, ehm, you got my interest.”

Ah.

The villain’s shoulders relaxed. A pickup line from the hero. That was new.

They let their dagger disappear and straightened their spine.

Being born as highly impertinent, the villain was usually the one to tease the hero. Ergo, this development, this event of turned tables, was exciting and the villain could not not jump on that.

“Darling, let’s stick to what we are good at, hm?” the villain said. “I continue to pleasure you with my astonishingly good looks and you continue to obey and let me finish you later. Alright? You are so pretty when you listen well and behave.”

The villain thought that was enough to make the hero’s knees weaken, their face flushing up to their hairline and them completely unable to think straight, so the villain could finally go and find their salesman. However, the hero held onto their wrist with clammy fingers.

“Wait, don’t go.” Odd.

“Look, I know you want me in-between your thighs, but—” The villain froze. Despite being deeply embarrassed, the hero seemed distressed. The dark circles under their eyes were imprinted onto their skin, making them appear as if they had not slept in days. The villain sighed. A few minutes to comfort their hero could probably fit. “Alright, what is it? Did you have another nightmare?”

The hero looked at them wide-eyed.

“Kind of,” they answered. “It was normal at first, you know, the usual kissing and making out but when I asked you if you really liked me, you grinned and I think stabbed me? I mean, I woke up before I could feel any pain and I am fine but it was still traumatic.”

Hearing those words made the villain’s mouth dry out. Though their heart was racing, they caught themselves just in time to make it appear as if their brain had never stopped dead.

“The usual kissing and making out? Between you and me?” the villain asked, smiling to themselves. This was definitely better than meeting up with their salesman. “You have that dream often?”

The hero gasped and pressed themselves against the wall, their ears red. It was only another reason for the villain to grab their face and bring their lips close enough to make the hero’s eyes flutter.

The villain was ready to, but they didn’t kiss them yet.

“Do you like that part of the dream?” they murmured while their hand slid down the hero’s face and over their throat as slow as they could force themselves to.

Of course, they wanted to devour the hero. Of course, they wanted to grab their thighs and upheave them to have them right here, right now, against the wall. The hero was a fucking miracle. Still, despite their countless advances, they wanted the hero to approach them, to approve, to give themselves to them because they wanted the villain, too.

“Yes, I like it very much,” the hero answered, their voice hoarse. Their gazes met and the villain was too fascinated by the colour of the hero’s dilated eyes to do anything else until it slowly dawned on them.

“Wait,” the villain said when it clicked, again a slim smile forming on their face. “You are totally distracting me.”

They didn’t rip the hero away — they could never do that, but instead they pinned the hero’s hands above their head. They watched how the hero’s breathing quickened.

“You try to detain me here, right?” How clever. The hero must’ve known the villain was going to meet up with their salesman today. So, they decided to stop them.

“Whaaat?” The hero laughed nervously again, their eyes jumping from one point to another but never quite reaching the villain’s fixed look. “I would never, I wasn’t — Why would I blow your meeting? That’s totally rude and not, ehm…nice!”

“Oh, my love. Your mouth should definitely be doing other things than talking right now.” They leaned in again, only one tiny bit of air separating their lips. If one of them had moved, had even dared to breath in heavily, they would have touched in the most delicate way.

But before that could happen, the villain turned their head and pressed a chaste kiss to the hero’s cheek. Then, they spoke the last words. “I’ll let it slide. Fair game. Good work.”

Good work, indeed. The villain was utterly impressed.

[dnvrsmedia]

I Meant Every Word I Said

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

summary: reader comes back from a mission and involentarly spills the truth on how they feel about their crush on a certain redheaded assasin.

word count: 1185

genre: fluff

warnings: sugestive themes but no smut

masterlist / ask box

you do not have my permission to repost my material and claim it is yours. that is plagerism.

likes and reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed.

You wracked your brain trying to figure out what went wrong as you stumbled out of the quinjet feeling lightheaded and dizzy. It was a simple recon mission at an abandoned Hydra facility. Nothing that you haven’t done millions of times previously. You thought that everything had gone well until now. You managed to get your ass inside and up the elevator.

The familiar ‘ding’ caused everyone relaxing in the livingroom to turn their heads. The woozy and unsettled look didn’t go past these highly trained individuals, more specifically Natasha Romanoff.

“Hey! How was the- Y/N are you alright?” Nat cocked her eyebrow in a questioning manner. You took one wobbly step out of the elevator.

“Is it just me or is everything spinning really fucking fast?” You slurred out before collapsing to the ground. Before you fall, you feel strong arms wrap around you.

“My hero.” You used the last of your strength to lift your mouth next to Nat’s ear, brushing your lips on to her soft skin. You try to seductively speak but end up sounding like you were about to have a life-threatening stroke.You passed out before you could see the faint blush and look of concern that washed over the former assassin’s face.

You wake up in the med bay with a groan. The pressure of someone’s hand in yours warrants you to open your eyes out of curiosity. The (assuming) once warm cloth, now lukewarm, slides down your forehead as you lift your chin. Surprisingly enough, the cold exterior-redheaded- Russian spy is clinging on to your hand as she naps in the chair at the side of your bed. You try to move once more but a wave of dizziness hits you like a semi-truck prompting you to groan even louder. That groan wakes up the redhead besides you. Within seconds she was standing by your side.

“Hey tough guy,” she flashes you her ever so infamous smirk. “You feeling okay?” She squeezes your hand. You oddly take the hand that is in yours and kiss her palm due to a wave of confidence that you previously never had around the spy.

“How could I feel anything else but bliss when I’m around you,sweetheart?” As soon as the words fell out of your mouth you felt your face heat up as did Natasha. Being this bold was completely out of character for you. You were the shy nerdy type that always had your nose in some book or geeking out with the science bros about some new statistical anomaly. Like oil in water, you and confidence did not mix. At least not until now.

“Excuse me?” Nat looked at you both shocked and painfully flustered. Normally it was Natasha that made you blush crimson.

“You heard me, princess. You know you are painfully beautiful. If I had to die I wouldn’t want to die anywhere else but between those thighs.” You smacked your mouth shut after that horribly explicit confession you just made.You didn’t think it was possible for Nat to get this flustered or flustered at all, but your incompetence to keep your mouth shut seemingly broke her.

Nat stood there opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.

“Nat I am so sorry I don’t know what is coming over me-” As you apologized Banner barged through the door.

“We ran some tests and think we found some sort of truth serum found its way through your body, Y/N. To make sure, can you remember walking through some area with maybe some broken air pipes or did you accidentally kick some sort of gadget that could have released this sort of thing?”

You tuned out almost everything Banner was saying to you as you ogled the stunning woman in front of you.

“Every single part of you is perfect and I wish I had the balls to ask you out.” You dreamily sighed as you pulled Nat on top of you on the bed. Nat let out a little yelp as she fell on top of you.

“Now this is something I could get used to.” You looked up horrified at the woman on top of you as she giggled into the crook of your neck.

“I think that answers the doubts you may have Dr.Banner.” Nat laughs as she looks back at your embarrassed demeanor. Banner nods and scurrys off to presumably get the antidote.

“I like having you in my arms, Natty. It makes me feel like I could protect you.”

Natasha’s heart melts. Not only at the nickname that only you are allowed to call her, but you want to protect her. She has never had someone want to protect her and she's willing to open up to that feeling with you. Natasha looks into your eyes in admiration.

“Fuck it.” She whispers as she cups your cheek. This kiss was everything you could have imagined and more. It was intense and sexy but that lustful feeling turned into her wanting to prove how much you mean to her. It turned sensual and full of care. You two would kiss forever if you could, but it was interrupted by your coworkers.

“You owe me twenty, pay up bird brain.” The familiar voice of Tony Stark makes the two of you separate. You look over to see Clint begrudgingly taking a wad full of cash from his wallet and smacking down a wrinkled twenty dollar bill into the hands of the billionaire.

“You couldn't have gone on the mission next week!” Clint groaned but shut up quickly when Nat shot him a glare. You just laughed.

“Be nice Natty.” You teased and kissed under her ear. You lifted her face back to see the red on her cheeks darkening at the use of the nickname in front of your friends.

“Yeah, Natty! Be nice-” Clint says but is quickly sent to the ground with the use of the redhead’s widow’s bite. You gasp and turn to your new lover. You lift your head to her ear and speak.

“Don’t be a brat, sweetheart.” This time, you confidently pull away as the woman on top shudders.

“I- I don’t know what you mean. Banner, Where is that serum?” She awkwardly coughs and slides off of you so that she is sitting next to you opposed to directly on top as you chuckle at her visibly being uncomfortable in comparison to her normal calm and cool exterior.

“Oh I already gave Y/N the antidote when you were asleep. I have no clue why she is still acting like this.” Banner shrugs. Now it’s your turn for your face to heat up.

“Okay I can explain! Everything said before Banner came in was involuntary!” You feel like your face was the seventh ring of hell. Of course Tony and the others happened to find all of this amusing.

Everyone seemed to find this hillarious, but you couldn’t read Natasha’s face.

“But you meant every word you said, right?”

“Right.”

“So...my thighs, huh?”

She cheekily smirked as you groaned.

[forever-rogue]

Congrats on the milestone!!! I found your blog thanks to "In Name Only"- haven't read an Oberyn fanfic that good in years!!! <3 <3 Buuuut could I have one with Javi, pretty please? :3 “Why aren’t you with her?”; But because I've seen you're already done some with Javier and maybe you'd like sth else: Din “ I thought we were family!”. Happy New Year!!!!

So, I had to go with Javier on this because I am in it for him 💕

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader ; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Oh no, no, no,” Javier shook his head fervently as he picked up his glass of whiskey, downing it in one go before he took a long drag of his cigarette. He seemed amused as he spoke in rapid Spanish to his companion for the evening, a man you hadn’t met before. A small smile tugged on your features as you noticed just how relaxed he seemed for once; normally he was tense and tired, just like you and Steve as well. It had been a last minute decision to come here for a drink by yourself, and you definitely hadn’t expected to find Javier here, but you weren’t upset in the slightest, deciding to go in and say a quick hello and see how it went. But his next words caused you to freeze in place.

“She’s nothing to me,” he commented as both burst into gruff laughter, “she’s just a kid, but good for a fuck now and then. A good rookie, but that’s it. If you want something worth your time, you know where to go.”

Your heart felt like it froze before dropping into your stomach at his words; they were so cruel and vile, laced with amusement at your expense. It didn’t long to figure out who he was talking to. Rookie? There was no one but you. Fucking every once in a while? Also you - well the two of you. But it had never been just...sex to you. It had always held so much more weight and somehow you’d thought it had for him to. 

“Move,” a man, clearly drunk, shoved you slightly as stood in the doorway, rooted in place. Your eyes were focused on Javier, and you made a small sound as you were jilted to the side. Javier’s head snapped up at the slight commotion and he paled as he noticed that it was you; shit, shit, shit. Judging by the broken hearted look on your face, he knew you had heard everything. 

You mumbled a quick apology before meeting Javier’s eyes for the briefest of moments before tearing out of the bar and out into the cold, dark street. It wasn’t but a moment before tears were spilling down your cheeks as you tried to control the sobs that threatened to rack your body. No - you weren’t going to let him or anyone see you like this. If he even cared enough to come after you and see if you were okay or what you’d heard. Judging by the cruel sharpness of his words, you highly doubted he would give the situation as much as a passing thought.

Well, you huffed lightly to yourself, dabbing at your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, no one to blame but yourself. Everyone had warned you about Javier Peña - you just hadn’t listened. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

“What’s wrong, Peña?” the man across the table looked at him and laughed, flagging down a nearby waitress and signaling for her to get two more beers, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Javier closed his eyes and let out a long breath, running a hand over his tired eyes. Part of him knew he should have come after you, but another part of him figured it was pointless. You’d probably never want to see his face again. It was supposed to be a quick comment to his contact, a blaise comment so the man knew to stay away from you, so you were protected - at least as much as he could ensure it. Instead he royally fucked everything up, and naturally you’d had impeccable timing. 

“Nothing,” he lied as he accepted the beer and downed half of it in one go, “nothing at all.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Part of you had wanted to call in sick to work the next day - and the rest of your days. But you’d decided that that was not the way to handle things. You were going to steel yourself and offer him as much indifference and disregard he had afforded you. May it was stupid and childish, but in the moment you didn’t care. He didn’t want anything to do with you and only viewed you as a good fuck now and then, then you would give it right back. You were finally going to take everyone’s advice and keep Javier Peña out of your personal life. At work it was unavoidable, but everywhere else, you were done with him.

“Good morning,” you offered Steve a kind smile before handing him a cup of coffee just like you did most mornings. Javier was already at his desk, pouring over paperwork, but stopping to glance up at you. Steve offered you his own greeting before eagerly accepting the coffee and getting back to work; you could feel Javier’s seeing gaze on you, but weren’t about to break down and gave into him. 

“Morning,” Javier offered, looking intently at you, as you sat down at your own desk and busied yourself with paperwork. There was a ton of it to do after last week’s raid, and that meant the three of you would be stuck at the office for the next few days. Not exactly ideal, to be stuck in close proximity with the man you desperately wanted to avoid, but you’d deal with it. You nodded and made a small, noncommittal sound. 

Steve looked between the two of you, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he realized something was wrong. Javier and yourself were normally thick as thieves, so this was a sharp contrast to what he had come to know as normal. While he didn’t know the full extent of your relationship, he knew it was more than friendly, and it didn’t long to figure out that something had happened. But he wasn’t going to push it or say anything; it wasn’t his place and he was sure that the two of you would figure it out. 

The rest of the day continued in much the same fashion...as did the day after...and the day after that. You played the role of cool and collected, not hurt and unphased by anything, while Javier felt like he was slowly breaking down. He just wanted to speak to you for just a moment, to explain what had happened and that none of it was true - he’d never meant to hurt. He’d just wanted to protect you. 

By Friday evening, he couldn’t handle it anymore; he needed to explain himself, to just get you to listen for a few minutes. Whether or not you chose to believe him would be another case.

“Dulzura-”

“I have a name, Javier,” you snapped at him, trying to push past him and head out of the office for the weekend. You’d planned to meet up with Connie to grab a drink, a much needed girls’ night, and that didn’t include Javier. You’d spent all week trying to get up and over him, and even though you weren’t sure it had worked, you liked the illusion that it did. 

But the seasoned agent was quick, and was able to grab your wrist and keep you from walking away. You looked at him, a frown on your features as you tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was stubborn and steadfast and didn’t release you. 

“We need to talk,” he insisted softly as you huffed impatiently. You didn’t dare to meet his eyes for fear of breaking down and giving in to him. Instead you stared at your feet and wished the ground would open and swallow you whole.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, the venom in your voice causing him to recoil, “you made that crystal clear. I’m just...what did you call? A good fuck every now and then? What could you - the wonderful most amazing agent - possibly want with me? A rookie?”

“You need to listen and let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you’d caught him off guard and he dropped your wrist, allowing you to pull out of his grasp and take a step away, "if you thought that's all I was you could have made it clear. I never...I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I should have listened, huh? Stay away from Javier Peña and I was just thinking dumb rookie that didn't listen. Joke's on me, right?"

"That's not - that's never what this was. Not to me," he insisted as you'd started to walk, causing you to stop dead in your tracks. Slowly turning around, you cocked your head to the side in confusion, "that's not what this started out as or what I wanted."

"Oh really?" you were stuck somewhere between shock and disbelief as you laughed bitterly, "do you mean it or are you saying that because you're trying to look good? Is that what you tell all the girls when you want them to get back in your bed?"

"Would you just stop and listen to me for one fucking moment?!" the sharpness of his tone caused you to look at him in surprise, "I've been trying to talk to you all week and you've been avoiding me like I've got the fucking plague. You won't even look at me."

"You broke my fucking heart!" you yelled back at him, feeling something snap within you as a few tears rolled down your cheeks, "and the worst thing? I was never even supposed to know. You couldn't even tell me to my fucking face! Was I supposed to find out or just be a laughingstock for you and your buddies? Or what about your informants? Why aren't you with her?"

"Stop! Just let me talk and listen for a moment," he ran his hands over his face as he groaned in annoyance, "fuck - if you never do anything else just please listen now. A few minutes is all I'm asking for."

"Fine," you agreed quietly, crossing your arms over your chest as you quirked an eyebrow, "you've got five minutes."

"You weren't supposed to hear those things I said," he agreed with a heavy sigh, as you tried not to sniffle too loudly at his declaration, "because it wasn't true - not in the way you think."

"How...what-?"

"My turn to talk," he reminded you, "your turn to listen. That man I was with...he's not a good man, Dulzura. He's an informant, but that doesn't mean he has any honor or virtue. If he knew you were mine, or anything if the sort, he would have used that against me in a heartbeat. He's not a good man. And all I wanted to do was protect you. The only way I could think to do that was to make it seem like I didn't care - if you don't matter he won't think twice about you. If he knew even a fraction of how much you mean to me, you'd be his first target if the tables ever turned. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer."

"Javier…" at some point your mouth had dropped and your mind was reeling as you tried to figure out what was going on. Had you really jumped to the worst conclusion with knowing only half of the story? He leaned against the door-frame and let out a long sigh, "do you...really?"

"I just wanted to protect you," he confirmed with a small nod, "I didn't mean for you to hear it because none of it was true. Of all the times for you to walk into that shitty bar...amazing timing, Dulzura. I'm sorry you had to hear it, especially since none of it was true."

"Wait," you looked at him with wide eyes as your heart sank when you realized you'd been giving him the cold shoulder for no reason. You felt like a fool; you should have known better than just to give into your flighty emotions. You knew Javier - the real Javier. You should have known you could have trusted him - talked to him from the start. But...shit.

"I would have told you that already if you'd just let me talk and not run away every time you saw me," he admitted with a shrug, "maybe it wasn't the best way to say it but I just...I want to keep you safe. Always."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And just like that, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him close before crashing your lips onto his. He kissed you back without hesitation, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you close. 

"What if someone sees?" you suddenly remembered between kisses as grinned at him. He shook his head and easily played it off.

"Doesn't matter," he insisted as he kissed you softly, this particular kiss filled with more longing and saccharine intensity, "I'll protect you. I'm sorry for how things seemed. I would never mean anything like that."

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," you whispered softly, sneaking in a few more kisses, "I should have known better. I should have just come to you."

"Next time," he insisted as he gently touched your face, "Dulzura - you know how much I…"

"I know, Javier. Now I truly know," you grinned at him, "me too."

"Want to get out of here?"

"Sorry babe," you teased, "its girls night. I would not be opposed, however, if my two favorite partners happened to make a surprise appearance at the same bar…"

"See you soon," he grinned, "and then you're all mine."

"I'm counting on that."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[hanatiny]

Bow To Your King

gif made by @/wooyoungs~

a/n: so uhh, I don’t know how to a) keep a schedule and b) contain myself... but I happened to be inspired by @galaxteez, so enjoy :)))

pairing: demon king!Hongjoong x f!reader

genre: smut

word count: 1952

warnings: sir kink, choking, marking/biting, exhibitionism, oral (m receiving), corruption kink, hair pulling, a lil bit of thigh riding, (vaguely?) implied breeding kink, implied minor oral fixation, strongly implied voyeurism, lots of praise and pet names, but also Joong is rough 😳

-----

If the you from a year ago knew what you were up to now, she’d laugh at you - and she’d have every right to. After all, somehow getting mixed up in underworld business and ending up as the demon king’s “prized possession” was certainly neither on your list of things to do in life, nor particularly believable.

No matter the circumstance he did love you to bits though, and he made sure you knew by whatever means he had.

But alas, here you were.

Kneeling on the ice-cold stone floor in front of Hongjoong’s throne, not obscured by anything in any way as you held his throbbing hard length in your warm mouth.

He gazed down at you, his eyes shining a bright red with desire while his hand tangled in your hair and you moved your head at a steady rhythm.

Neither of you paid any mind to your surroundings, lost in your mutual delight of each other as he let out soft moans of praise and your mind grew hazy.

"Ahh, you're taking me so well in your wet mouth baby...~ I'm gonna-"

He cut himself off and paused the bucking of his hips suddenly, forcibly stilling you with a tight grip on your hair as you whined in both confusion and frustration around his twitching cock.

Frustrated from having been denied the feeling of his hot cum sliding down your throat, confused because you missed the sound of the large door to the throne room creaking open just moments ago, so you didn’t understand why he stopped so abruptly.

You glanced up at your lover with teary eyes, his own furious ones focused on whoever seemed to have so rudely disrupted your moment of intimacy.

"I-I apologize for intruding sire, I didn't know... I just wanted to ask if-"

"If what, Seonghwa? If Y/n would sleep with you too, huh? Is that it?" Hongjoong interrupted the man in question with a snarl, glowering at him as his cheeks flushed crimson in response and he nodded sheepishly.

Hongjoong clicked his tongue loudly, "Fool! I suspect the other court members feel the same?" He left Seonghwa no time to collect his thoughts, already aware of the truth, "Bring them here, I want all of you to see how a king treats his princess."

You squirmed at his feet from the commanding yet eerily calm tone of his voice and the lack of hesitation in it, seeing no reason whatsoever to object while he carefully pulled you back up to your feet and onto his lap to straddle him, a sharp contrast to his previous treatment of Seonghwa, the poor guy nearly stumbling over his own two feet as he hurried to find the other six men as requested.

Despite his dark and rough exterior Hongjoong was mostly a soft and tender lover, to your initial surprise.

Only this time around, you had a feeling he wasn't going to be gentle.

Yet you didn’t mind in the slightest - on the contrary, you secretly loved whenever he treated you with a sense of possessive, inhumane ownership in bed. Everytime he did, you felt a little bit of your innocence slipping away, arousal already growing within you at the thought.

Hongjoong cooed quietly, breaking you out of your reverie, silently asking you if you were truly okay with what he was planning to do as he tenderly carressed your cheek. You nodded immediately, a smile growing on your face and your heart skipping a beat at his thoughtfulness while you leaned into his touch.

It was one of the many things you loved about him, you mused, how he'd sometimes show his care through the little things. You didn’t know you needed that in a person until you met him.

"You look like you're daydreaming again, darling. Are you sure you're alright~?"

You blushed as Hongjoong teased you, choosing to grasp his dark messy tresses in your hands and press your lips against his heatedly, prompting the immediate reaction of a pleased hum sounding in his throat and his hands gripping your waist tightly before he eventually broke off the contact.

Your pupils were blown wide with lust as you panted softly and blinked at him, seeing the way he was licking his lips before they shifted into a wicked predatory smirk, "Getting eager, hm? Really wanna show off how good you are for me, don't you princess~?"

His eyes flashed red again, darkness simultaneously coloring them as he gave you the simple command of "Strip," and left you speechless in the process while you scrambled to climb off of his lap obediently and do as told, the promise of your lover's rough treatment fueling your actions.

Hongjoong watched you with satisfaction and amusement both glimmering in his dark gaze as he thought back to how he had to convince you to let him kiss you just a few months ago, and by now you stripped at a mere snap of his fingers.

He had you putty in his hands and he positively adored this level of control he had over you when it came to the sexual aspects of your relationship.

You observed Hongjoong as he curled his finger in a 'come hither' motion, shocked by how casual he appeared as he did so - if you didn't know any better, you'd be saying he was about to meet with his advisors - and you climbed back onto him.

Your already dripping heat pressed against his thigh while you gasped and grinded against him briefly before he made you still as he flexed it beneath you, "Sir, w-what are you doing..?"

"What does it feel like hm~? I'm just making sure my beautiful princess is ready for what's to come~" He purred seductively, forcing your core to rub against his thigh more with his hands on your hips as his cock twitched slightly at how visible your enjoyment was.

"And I believe that you are~" In a swift and skilled motion, almost as if practiced, Hongjoong turned you around to face the wide throne room instead of himself and promptly impaled you on his dick.

A loud and whiny moan left you while he nipped lightly on your earlobe, "As much as I love seeing your beautiful angelic face contort in pleasure whenever I take you, I believe I should indulge them too... just this once~"

His tone was sultry and, combined with him stretching you so deliciously, instinctively made you screw your eyes shut upon realizing you once again, in your dazed state of mind, hadn't heard the door opening for the seven men now staring at the scene before them with their eyes wide and mouths agape, a few of them even sporting noticeable bulges in their pants already.

"Princess... Sir thought his instructions were clear." Hongjoong growled lowly near your ear, a hand wrapping around and applying pressure to your throat, coaxing a strained cry to fall from your lips while your eyes flew open again.

"I-I'm sorry, you were more than crystal clear..." You choked out in a mewl, refusing to meet anyone's gaze directly as his hips remained unmoving and the thumb of his free hand traced featherlight circles on your thigh.

You shuddered slightly on top of him as he gave an experimental thrusts upwards into you, his hand squeezing your throat with precisely the right amount of force behind the action when you moaned quietly. "Good girl...~ Why don't you let them hear how good you are too, hm?"

"Y-yes sir..~ ah!" You squealed in surprise as you felt Hongjoong's lips suddenly latching onto the soft skin of your neck, locating your sweet spot almost immediately.

Highly pleased, he hummed and made a point of locking eyes with each present member of his court, his own orbs continuing to flicker a passionate red, while he sank his teeth into the sensitive spot near your collarbone.

It felt different, more intense than the normal hickeys he had given you plenty of before now. It throbbed lightly when he lathed his tongue over the newly formed bruise that practically burned itself into your skin, and you realized it'd be permanent.

He smirked against your skin when you cried out in both pain and pleasure and the other men's eyes went wide in surprise.

He was giving you the demon mark.

Your walls clenched involuntarily around his length as you whined from the sensation on your neck.

You were his queen in all but official title now.

Hongjoong pulled away with a low hiss, pulling your body back and flush against his with the hand still wrapped tightly around your throat while careful to not cut your airflow off entirely, "Shit... seems like you really enjoy that huh? Sir is all too happy to oblige, babygirl~"

It was when he started roughly snapping his hips into you that you reached your breaking point, eyes rolling back into your head as it lolled forward from the amount of pleasure flooding your system while you whimpered pitifully loudly.

"Feels good when sir uses you, doesn't it? You're so beautifully snug around me, looking all fucked out already...~ But I believe I didn't allow this, doll." Your lover whispered threateningly, his free hand snaking up your bare back before grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking on it harshly, causing you to throw your head back with the most erotic moan yet while he showed no signs of letting go.

You mindlessly babbled out a breathy apology as he twitched within you and proceeded to decorate your neck with heated kisses and small love bites, "Ah, I'm-I'm sorry sir, princess just feels so good thanks t-to you~!"

"Queen," he corrected softly, only for you to hear before he grins sadistically with a strained groan, "if you keep tightening around me like that I'll have no choice but to cum already... Though you'll be good and take all of sir's load as you always do, I'm sure~"

You keened at the thought, body arching and presenting itself to your 'guests' when Hongjoong's hand around your throat let up in favor of dipping downwards to pinch and rub circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.

"I knew it, you're just my precious, good little girl...~" He cooed while you gasped for air as he pressed his tip harder into the bundle of nerves that formed your sweet spot.

You finally couldn't take it any longer, your body convulsing above that of the demon sitting beneath you as he continued to fuck into you roughly before he stilled and released deep inside of you before wrapping his arms around your still shaking form to help you come down from your high, “Shh... I’ve got you, babydoll.”

You gave a soft hum filled with adoration in response as your lover’s attention switched over to the seven other men in the room, who you had admittedly almost forgotten were there, and your gaze followed his.

Although, now that you were a little more level-headed and not as deep in the throes of bliss as you had been before you could clearly see the stunned silence in their faces and the effect your impromptu show had on them in both their eyes and the tents in their pants, which they desperately tried to hide by means of their large coats - a futile endeavor.

A satisfied and proud grin spread across your features when Hongjoong addressed his court, a flicker of amusement visible in his eyes.

"Now, before you all leave... Bow to your king and queen. As weak in the knees as you are, that shouldn't pose much of a challenge~"

------

Taglist:

@nightqueennyx @truebluejoong @yunhoes-twancings-nsfw @yunhoiseyecandy​

[thewildomega]

Alpha Whitebeard headcanons

A/N: Thank you for the request anon! This took me longer to do than I intended but manly because I was trying to figure out how to make this work. So The idea I have came up with is the reader(Omega) will have the Saizu Saizu No Mi (Size size fruit) same as the reader had in my Katakuri fic. Basically the reader has the ability to change size. Minimum is 6 inches, Maximum is 15 feet. Now that we have that settled let’s get started. 

P.s. Probably going to be some little stories added in with the headcanons. Beware it’s probably going to be long because my love for this man is too strong to be contained.

Sfw

If normal alphas are known to be large, strong, leaders then Whitebeard is the fucking Apex Alpha by traits alone. However Edward isn’t necessarily aggressive unless you fuck with his family. 

The man is highly protective over what he considers his. This includes his territory, his crew, his ship and most importantly his omega.When it comes to his mate he can at times be considers possesive. 

The two of you have been together for years, since before he was known as Whitebeard, before he was a captain himself. 

Pillaging the city Edward made quick work of gathering all the treasure and anything else he could find. Captain Rocks was causing his usual mayhem along with most of the other crew. Cutting down the few men that tried taking him on he was about to leave the high class home when he heard muffled crying. 

“...elp...omeon...ease..”

Knitting his brows he looked to one of the other crew members as he passed by the kicked in door. “Here, take this back to the ship.” he told him, tossing him the bag of loot. 

“Whatcha doin’ Newgate?” 

“Heard somethin’.” was all he said before he started walking down the stairs to the basement. Ducking his head to fit he got down to the dark room and looked over to the far corner only for his breath to catch in his throat. It was a woman, a young woman. She was chained up and in a cage, a blindfold over her eyes and a gag tied around her mouth. Without another thought he was moving over to unlock the cage with the keys placed on a hook not too far away. The woman who he saw was dressed in nothing but a raggedy cream colored gown curled up as best she could at the sudden noise. Bruises and bloody cuts decorated her skin. Crouching down he reached into the cage and felt a low growl rumble in his chest when the strong scent filled his nose, she was an omega. Hooking his finger under the blindfold he lifted it up and off her head. 

You were shaking at the noise, your cage being opened. The person, whoever it was hadn’t aid anything. When something warm touched your cheek you flinched and felt as the person removed your blindfold. When you saw the two yellow eyes looking at you you froze, it was a man, a large man. 

Staring into her e/c eyes he blinked, his heart hammering in his chest. Coming back to his eyes dropped to the gag. Pulling out his knife he saw her scared eyes snap to the blade and her frail body tense. “It’s alright.” he told her. Moving the knife towards her he saw tear fall onto her dirty cheek, she thought he was going to kill her. 

As the knife moved towards you you braced yourself for the pain, and closed your eyes but to your surprise there was no pain and you felt the gag in your mouth fall slack and then get pulled away. Wincing at the ache you closed your sore mouth, your lips cracked from dehydration. 

Dropping the gag to the floor he looked again to the woman, he bet under all that grit and blood there was a right pretty woman. She looked to be maybe nineteen or so. No doubt she had been taken as a slave, omegas normally were taken young, as soon as they showed signs. “What’s your name darling?”

Staring at the no doubt alpha male you said nothing. Hearing him hum and then tilt his head you watched as he moved to unlock the seastone cuffs around your wrists and then ankles. 

Moving to put up his knife he leaned up, “Well my name is Edwa...’ before he could finish she had lunged forward. Going to stop her she suddenly shrunk down to only a few inches tall making him sit there stund or a moment. Quickly snapping out of it he moved to grab her. “Hey.. now you just..” 

Growing to your full size which had to be close to his own you threw your fist through the air and into his jaw. As soon as he was knocked backwards you shrunk back down to your normal size and ran for it, hearing him right behind you. You made it to only the top of the stairs before you were lifted into the air and thrown back into the wall hard. 

Hearing the feminine yelp he hurried up the stairs and skidded to a stop when he saw Rocks standing there along with a few more, Kido and Linlin  being two of them. Snapping his eyes to the omega laying on the floor by the wall he saw Rocks and the other looking to her in amusement. 

“Now what do we have here?” Rocks asked in a laugh. “An omega? Well aren’t you a rare treasure.” 

Breathing heavily he snapped his eyes between that of his captain and the omega who was now backing into the corner. Watching as Rocks made to go towards her he stood tall, “I want her.” 

Stopping mid step Rocks looked towards Newgate and rose a brow, tilting his head with a sinister grin on his face. “What was that Newgate?”

Looking Rocks in the eyes he took a deep breath. “I want her. I’m the one who found her so by right she belongs to me. I will forfeit my share of the treasure in exchange for her.” 

Narrowing his eyes Rocks looked to the large male, holding up his hand when Kido went to butt in. Newgate was a strong asset to his crew he knew this and he also knew how easy it would be to keep control over him with an omega to be able to threaten. Smiling he glanced to the omega and then back to Newgate. “This island and then the next two.”

Sighing he nodded firmly. 

Chuckling Rocks tilted his head towards the female. “The bitch is your responsibility.”

Sfw headcanons continued

Edward had taken care of you from then after, no matter how hard you made it. 

Like all alphas your health is very important to him, he doesn’t put up with you skipping meals or doing anything to put yourself in danger. 

He claimed you quickly. Making you shift to your larger size with a deep command in his alpha voice he held you tightly and sunk his large, sharp teeth into your neck. It seemed to last forever but once he pulled away, holding your small limp body against his massive one. For the remainder of the night he had held you close, holding you in one of his hands while his large tongue lapped at the deep bite. 

You call him Ed and he calls you Darling, lass, sweetheart, little one and omega. When he does call you by name you know he means business and there is a good chance you are in trouble. 

If you call him alpha though and sit on his lap then you can pretty much get away with murder and he will give you whatever you want. 

While still in Rocks crew he keeps you locked away in his room, he doesn’t trust any one else on that ship. He will however take you out when the ship docks. 

Once the big man gets a ship of his own you are allowed to roam wherever you like. 

The crew he gets are your sons just as much as they are his. Some like Marco call you ‘Ma’. 

He has never been a controlling alpha. You are your own person and he allows you to dress, talk and do whatever you want so long as it doesn’t put you in danger. That being said you are not allowed off ship alone he knows all too well that an omega is always a target, even more so when she is the omega of a notorious pirate such as himself. 

You sit on his lap or on his shoulder. 

The man practically drowns you in his scent. There is no doubt that you are a taken omega. 

Sleeping is a bit of this and that. Sometimes you sleep on his chest with his hand overtop of you (That is his favorite) Other times you sleep beside him, curled up into his side. No matter which way you sleep it always gives him a heart attack if he wakes up and you aren’t there. You have been known to shrink down when you have nightmares and he is always afraid he may have crushed you. 

Some may look at the both of you and wonder how it works and if you were just some poor omega that he took. At first it was rough, you loathed him but he never treated you wrongly. Now you were proud to call him yours as he is you. You love him and he loves you. 

Hope this was okay. I didn’t do NSFW because I thought this was long enough, but if anyone wants it just let me know. Thank you for reading!

[andguesswhat]

Loki's Sex Tapes

I got so frustrated about this whole love interest chaos that I needed to compensate it with some Lokius-porn. Never would have written that scene because yes, I know that they just DON’T have time to f***. But since when is porn realistic… so here we go. Don’t read if you’re not into it. Tell me when you liked it. And pardon my bad English.

Also you can replace “TVA” with “MCU” and “prude” with “homophobic” in this shot if you want to ;D

Loki’s Sex Tapes

***

Mobius was devastated and angry and nervous. But he needed to fix this. However jealous he was of Sylvie, he wanted Loki to be happy. He could not have forgiven himself if they didn’t even try.

Even if that meant -

“If you want to save her, you have to trust me. Can we do that?” No time for thinking too much.

“Yes.”

“Good.”

And because he had a hunch that a lot of things could go wrong in the next hours, he said what he wanted to say for a long time.

“You could be whoever, whatever you wanna be.

Even some one good.

I mean, just in case anyone told you differently, okay?”

There, said.

And the smile Loki gave him in return… Whatever would happen next, he wasn’t afraid because he would die with this fond memory.

He turned around to go through the portal when he felt Loki’s hand on his wrist, heard his calm and soft voice.

“Wait, Mobius.”

He was almost shocked to see the anxiety in Loki’s eyes when he looked at him. As if Loki feared to lose again. Or was it as if he was afraid to lose what he had?

Mobius was so agitated about that that he didn’t even understand when Loki’s hand suddenly slid to the back of his neck, Loki’s thumb caressing his cheek. “I don’t want to regret not having done this, ” he whispered firmly.

And before Mobius knew what was happening, he already felt Loki’s lips on his.

Kissing him.

Softly, gently, loving.

God.

Good God.

Mobius felt his knees weaken.

So this was how it felt.

This was how it felt when everything was just like you wanted it to be.

Time stood still or so he hoped. But Loki already drew away from him, almost looking at him with a bad conscience.

“I’m sorry. If the circumstances were different… I would have taken things slower... I guess. I hope you’re not disgusted or something.”

Mobius looked at him - and laughed. Just laughed.

Disgusted? Yeah.

His whole body felt like supernova of joy!

But before he could tell Loki how he felt, Loki went on.

“I wasn’t sure… how much you know about my … love life. If you’re an expert on this as well.”

And Mobius had to laugh even harder, “Let me tell you something, Loki… the TVA records like almost every second of your life, showing battles full of blood and intestines but when it comes to sex… they are more prude then a dry cleaner. Every time you were about to even just kiss someone, ” he made a scratching sound, ”end of file.”

And now it was Loki’s time to turn his face into a smile. A highly amused one though.

And Mobius realized just then that what he had said might not have been the best of ideas.

“You would have watched it?” Loki asked with far too much joy in his voice.

Mobius tried to play it down fast and change the subject. “Yeah, have fun with that. Can’t we go back to the kissing part?”

But Loki’s smile grew even wider.

“You would have watched it! Me having sexual intercourse! You kinky little - “

“Loki!” he almost yelled.

It wasn’t as if -

He didn’t -

He sighed. And felt defeated. So he continued more softly, “I watched you, Loki, I watched your whole life, I know you. Don’t you think one can easily … and heavily fall in love with you? And if one does… don’t you think one gets curious… about… certain… things?”

He didn’t know what it was that he had said but all of a sudden the smile in Loki’s face had gotten sad and he could see the anxiety again in Loki’s eyes.

Immediately he felt Loki’s lips on his mouth again and this time the kiss got deeper, more passionate, more urgent, leaving Mobius gasping for air. But Loki wouldn’t let go of him, clung to him as if that was going to be their last physical contact ever.

So, yes, he more or less had told Loki that he loved him. But he didn’t want Loki to be sad, he wanted to cheer him up somehow, so he said:

“I imagined if this material ever existed I would put a sticker on it and call it the Loki sex tapes.”

He was relieved when he felt Loki chuckle against his body.

Why couldn’t they have had more time together?

Why couldn’t they have met in another place?

Suddenly Loki was all action. “I don’t care if the world goes down. We need to do this. Now.”

Mobius wanted to ask what “this” was but Loki had already grabbed him by the hand; their fingers intertwined and pulled him behind him.

“Come on, I show you my bathroom.”

Arriving in the bathroom Loki didn’t lose any time – so much for showing- , he shoved Mobius against the marble walls, pressed his body against his, pressed his lips against his, invaded his mouth, with a hot and eager tongue, Loki’s hands were ripping at his clothes, apparently desperate to feel some flesh, leaving burning marks on his skin, and Mobius couldn’t keep up, just could let it happen, could just moan because it felt so fucking good.

“So tell me, how you imagined me having sex?” Loki mumbled against his neck, his voice low and seductive.

Mobius wasn’t sure if he had heard right. Loki did not just ask him to do some sex talk here, did he?

But Loki just went on.

“Did you imagine me dominating my partner? …Or do you like me to go on my knees.”

“I did not-“ Mobius tried to protest but it was a hopeless attempt. He was way too horny for that.

“Come on, Mobius, tell me what do you want? Do you want me to suck on your cock? Or would you like to know what it feels when you have mine in your mouth? What would you like, Mobius?”

God.

Mobius decided to just give up the fighting and closed his eyes.

Anything actually.

He wanted Loki, he just wanted Loki-

“I want to be inside of you,” he finally whispered out of breath. He was embarrassed, he was scared, but if this was his only chance… he wanted to be as near to Loki as possible.

Not in the world had he expected Loki to moan as response, not in the world had he expected to feel Loki’s hard-on twitch against his leg.

Even the thought of Loki actually wanting this, could have brought him over the edge. But preparing Loki made it even harder.

Loki naked in front of him, just dressed with the cuff around his neck, giving him some lube on his fingers. And when he had entered him, to feel how he reacted to his fingers inside of him, feel him shiver, hear him moan and finally hear him impatiently demand, “Mobius, fuck me now!”

Mobius tried to repress a moan.

He positioned himself against Loki’s entrance, pushed slowly, cautiously.

“Go on,” Loki breathed. “More.”

So he went further, and further, till he had buried himself completely in Loki, felt his heat, his tightness and couldn’t help but let out that satisfying moan after all.

Loki, my beautiful Loki.

The feeling of being near to Loki was overwhelming, so he began pounding into him, softly and gently first, what when he heard Loki moaning for more he increased the pace until they were completely in rhythm, both panting and moaning.

As he had feared he couldn’t last long, the heavy thrusting brought him over the edge, so he thrusted one last time into Loki and came.

God.

He had buzzing in his ears, his heart pounded heavily against his chest.

Immediately Loki grabbed his hand to place it on his cock, so he could pump him, and he did, till Loki apparently came too, with a loud moan, throwing his head back, spilling his cum all over Mobius’ hand.

And suddenly Mobius could only stare.

Loki’s whole body shimmered… blue.

He had never seen anything more beautiful.

He was completely in awe.

“Wow.”

He reached out for Loki’s skin.

Caressed it.

Felt the smooth and cold structure of it…

And then it was already gone.

Wow.

Loki turned around to him, still breathing heavily.

“That’s the only time when I can’t control it,” he explained almost apologetic.

Mobius laid his hand on Loki’s cheek. “I wish I had seen you’re face.”

They both just stared each other then.

Trying to find their normal breathing again.

And when they did, Loki said:

“So, let’s burn this place down so we have a next time.”

**

When they arrived at the portal again and looked at each other, they had changed.

They were seeing the other now completely. And it felt good. Comforting.

“I’m afraid of losing again.”

“You won’t, I’m here.”

“I’m afraid of losing you.”

“You won’t, I’m here. And just remember: you can be whoever you wanna be.”

And with this they went through the door.

***

[aceofspadegrass]

Pancake Day, but Better

Characters: Niragi Suguru, Dori Sakurada, Last Boss, Cabot, Aguni Morizono, Chishiya Shuntaro, Hatter

Genre: Crack Part 2, now with pancakes.

1.9k words

Prompt: Can you do like a sequel for that dori and niragi crack,cause i want to see dori in pancake day and introducing himself to chishiya,last boss(and catbot)aguni,and hatter. And i have an urge that maybe hatter would like him because how he dresses himself how hatter likes it to be,also chishiya would just go up to niragi and say" Wow, he's actually even more better then you niragi. Maybe he's smarter then you too" As he walks away leaving a a angry niragi - @a-simp-20

(Counts as a Part 2 to this)

*Rubs hands together* Heck yeah, more gentle chaos. Time to gently bully this giraffe lizard man again.

Now with the added addition of pancakes! Fun times for all!

Despite the laws of the Borderlands and the highly likely chance that nobody knows the actual date that passes by, people still managed to produce what someone offhandedly referred to as the 'Borderlands Holy Day'.

Now, what pray tell was the Borderlands Holy Day? Was it a religion?

Despite the fact that it had 'Holy' in its name, no. It wasn't a religion. Although if someone tried hard enough it could become almost like a cult. Wouldn't be the first time.

So what was it?

Well, obviously.....

It was Pancake Friday. The greatest day of the century. The premise was simple enough: Every Friday everyone gets a pancake. A single pancake. Want more? Well, you better bet and compete for other people's pancakes. The only thing more exhilarating to the members of the Beach than winning games and living another day to party and do fuck-all was Pancake Day.

So, of course, when Friday rolled around, people weren't thinking of anything except the spoils of little bets and competitions over the week, thick fluffy pancakes topped with whatever they pleased and whatever the Beach had in stock at the time. Even Niragi was thinking about pancakes, because what's better than bragging about how many pancakes you got that week?

Nothing, that's what.

Pancake Day was great.

Niragi walks down the corridor with the strut of a man that knew he was feared, and he heads to the dining area where the pancakes would inevitably be given out. People were already there, a few making last minute bets in an attempt to win just a little extra amount for the day. Niragi found it almost amusing. Such a pitiful sight. Niragi himself had already gained a total of four whole pancakes, two of which he won off of some idiot who just thought he was really pretty.

" There's a lot of people here. It must be really important, right?" A smooth voice pipes up from just a little behind him, and Niragi is reminded quite forcefully that he didn't come here alone.

" Of course it's important, it's Pancake Day! Haven't you ever heard of it?" Niragi spat, Sakurada merely shrugging and walking away to talk to other members of the Beach. Niragi scoffs and storms away. At least he didn't have to think about the other him anymore, no matter how neat he looked.

He ends up finding Last Boss standing in the corner by himself, watching everyone else with a self made distance, leaning against his katana. His cat was chilling right besides his foot, apparently having her snack before the pancakes came out and making quiet eating noises. Niragi made sure not to accidentally step on her, which wasn't that hard to do. Niragi stares at Last Boss almost expectantly, waiting for even the slightest hint of a greeting, but all the other man does is stare ahead, lost in his own thought.

So, like a completely normal person would do to a guy ignoring the other, Niragi starts poking Last Boss in the side with his sniper rifle.

" Hey. Hey. Hey. You awake?"

Last Boss just continues to ignore him, and Niragi's pokes get a little harder the more he gets ignored. " Hey! Why are you ignoring me! Come on!"

Last Boss finally looks in his direction, and Niragi grins in victory, Last Boss just staring at him blankly. " Fucking finally, you were ignoring me."

Last Boss just continues to remain silent, but Niragi didn't care, instead putting his rifle back to balance on his shoulder as he looks out among the people still puttering about. Niragi could barely make out that Sakurada guy, who was talking to some random nobodies, Niragi scoffing to himself. He points him out to Last Boss, whose gaze follows the direction of Niragi's slender finger.

" See that one? Yeah, that one busted into my room and kept spraying me with water, the nerve of that guy."

Last Boss mutters something under his breath, Niragi not picking it up properly. He glances at Last Boss suspiciously, Last Boss just continuing to stare off at Sakurada without any sign of emotion on his tattooed face. Niragi groans, and he looks back in the direction of Sakurada, only to see that somehow the bastard has disappeared. Niragi frowns and looks around from where he stood to see whether he could see him again, but no dice.

The area was getting more and more full the longer Niragi tried looking, to the point that he gave up even trying. At some point Last Boss' cat had finished her snack, and he could feel Cabot rubbing her body across his legs as well just for the hell of it. He looks down at the feline, Cabot just doing her own thing like she usually did.

" Hey you little fuck. What's up." Niragi mutters down at the cat, Cabot just continuing on her little rub spree before going over to Last Boss and meowing loudly until Last Boss bent down and picked her up, Cabot resting happily with her butt in the crook of Last Boss' arm and her head and front paws draped over his shoulder.

Niragi rolls his eyes at the sight, and finally the time had come, Hatter walking in with the utmost grace, people cheering him like they do every time they see the man, with Aguni not that far behind. Niragi and Last Boss head towards the little stage Hatter insisted needed to be built for Pancake Day, standing in position as Aguni joins them, Hatter going up to the Pancake Podium.

" Greetings everyone! Today is the glorious and absolutely magnificent Pancake Day! I hope all of you have worked hard to acquire your pancakes!" Hatter shouts with arms outstretched like a bird's, people cheering and whooping excitedly. " I, for one, have a total of five whole pancakes, as throughout the week I have worked hard to get them from my loyal and beautiful members, and that one person who sadly perished in a game and bequeathed their pancakes to me for many months to come! May their soul be at rest, the courage of them~" Hatter announces, the crowd going wild.

" Now, may the pancakes commence!"

People scattered to tables near immediately, and the kitchen doors open as the designated chefs come out with the freshly made pancakes on carts. Niragi and Last Boss end up following Aguni and the rest of the executives plus Hatter to what was apparently the special table, used only by them.

Niragi grins as he leans back in his chair. At least Sakurada would stay away for now-

" Oh, there you are!"

Speak of the devil. Niragi shuts his eyes in annoyance as his clone comes over. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him, and despite his eyes being closed, Niragi could still feel the smug and interested smile Chishiya was giving off.

" Oh? And who are you, you splendid looking being?" Hatter's voice rings out. " Your outfit is immaculate, but I have never seen you before. No, wait...... I have seen you! Except less fancier. And usually with a hat. Who is sitting right there."

Niragi wanted to shoot this man so bad.

"My name is Sakurada Dori, it is very nice to meet you." Sakurada greets them.

Niragi finally bothers to open his eyes as Hatter stands up, and apparently does a quick check over of Sakurada, nodding to himself. " Yes, you are absolutely stunning. I love what you've done!"

" Are you the one that made Niragi take off his hat?" Aguni asks, low and stoic as always. Niragi rolls his eyes at that. He didn't intend to get rid of his hat, Sakurada just kind of yeeted it outside his window without even asking. The nerve of this guy.

Sakurada quickly nods. " I will get him another hat eventually, as I promised, but only as long as he shoots his gun responsibly!"

" Is that so...." Aguni mutters, and just kind of nods like a sort of proud dad.

Hatter grins even wider, and claps Sakurada across the back. " Now that's some courage! Hey, what say you, would you like one of Niragi's pancakes? As a sign of strength!"

" What?!" Niragi shouts, and he stands up, slamming the table. Aguni watches him quietly, as does Last Boss, the latter just staring more than a tired gaze like Aguni was sporting at the moment. " You can't do that!"

" But I can! I'm the leader after all, I can say what I want, and what I want is practically law here, Niragi. Remember who your boss is." Hatter smiles at Niragi in that sort of way that Niragi hated, but a firm tap on his arm by Aguni made him relent, Niragi angrily muttering to himself as he sat back down.

" Ah, thank you very much, but I don't need to take his-"

" Nonsense, you deserve it! Besides, Niragi already gets... how many?"

" Well I had four, but apparently not anymore."

" Three is plenty for you! Anyways, so that means you get two pancakes, you funky little ball of glory!" Hatter states.

" Are you sure? Is that alright with you Niragi?" Sakurada looks to the man, Niragi just grumbling some more.

" Don't worry about him, he'll get over it." Chishiya mentions, and Niragi quickly glares at him, Chishiya casually looking back with that damn smug ass smile on his lips.

" Fucking undercooked egg white." Niragi mutters under his breath, Chishiya just continuing to smirk.

Still, the pancakes arrive to their table, Hatter inviting Sakurada to sit with them for the day so he could talk about fashion, mainly about what kinds of hats the other liked, Sakurada easily falling into conversation with him. Niragi just drowns his now three pancakes in maple sauce, grumbling under his breath.

Last Boss was watching Niragi just nearby, eating his single pancake as Cabot got to treat herself to two whole cat-specified pancakes like she deserved, and goes to whisper to his cat, Cabot flicking her tail a little at whatever Last Boss muttered.

" You have a very nice cat there! It must be enjoying everything since it appears to be very well cared for and happy." Sakurada mentions at one point, Last Boss staring at Sakurada silently. Sakurada just politely smiles back, and Last Boss just slowly blinks, then nods.

" Thank.... you." Last Boss says, and Cabot looks up finally, and bumps her body against Last Boss, the man quietly petting her as Sakurada watches with a happy expression at how sweet the sight was. Sakurada makes small clicking nosies in an attempt to beckon the cat over to him, Cabot meowing and wandering over curiously, sniffing at Sakurada's fingers before letting herself get pet by the man softly. " She seems to like me already!" Sakurada says happily, Last Boss slowly nodding.

" That's good. She likes being pet gently." Last Boss mutters, and even Hatter tried to get in on the cat patting session.

" Hey Niragi." Chishiya's voice catches Niragi's attention, and he looks up at him, already despising of what he was about to spew out from his lips. The limestone fox man just smiles at him, pancakes already gone from his plate.

" The fuck do you want now."

" Your clone is actually way better than you. Perhaps even smarter than whatever half brain you have up there." Chishiya remarks, and with that he stands up and walks away from the table, immediately sliding himself into a group of people leaving and disappearing from his sight.

" YOU LITTLE FUC-" He whips out his gun, ready to chase Chishiya down and kill him like he always wanted to.

Water gets immediately sprayed on his face the second he stands up again, Niragi sputtering. " No. Bad Niragi."

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 5. Secrets hurt

First | Previous | Next

Listen I don’t know why I decided to give each chapter an artsy title I just did. Also as anyone following this may have noticed this story isn’t gonna be regularly updated but rather updated when I have something I’m proud enough to post though I am determined to finish this series, just school comes first. I hope you understand.

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

The winter continued like that. He’d bring you food and you’d give him goods, even visiting multiple times a week. Sometimes he’d tell you about the stuff, holding up a jar of applesauce ‘from The Kingdom. The guy who runs it used to own a tiger’ or loaf of bread ‘the hilltop grows the grain, but Alexandria makes it.’ You would hum and nod along, knowing he was just trying to convince you to come back. Mainly because he’d ask if you wanted to come back with him and you would be ‘grateful but happy where you are’

You had asked him to start making lists so you knew what to find and you always tried your best to deliver. Cloths, blankets, kitchen utensils, baby bottles-

“Baby bottles?” you asked, pointing at the item on the list. He nodded.

“John and his wife are pregnant and we don’t have enough to go around.” He explained from the comfort of your couch, feet up on the table.

“But you have some?” you continued, not believing what you were hearing “You have...children? As in...babies?”

“Yea. I keep telling you we’re building a society.” he laughed at your bewilderment. “You’d fit in gr-” your mind ran as what you knew was coming ‘Here it comes again. No never works with these people. How do I get him to shut up?’

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” you cut him off, smiling. You turned to your kitchen unit, pulling out a large bot, a can of vegetable soup, and salted beef that Daryl had brought that day. “You’ve brought me so much it’ll probably go bad before I can eat it all.”

In that time he had stood up and walked over to the kitchen, now leaning on the counter. His sudden appearance made you hold your breath “When did ‘get out’ become ‘stay for dinner’?” he asked, seemingly amused.

“When you stopped understanding what ‘I don’t wanna be part of your group’ meant.” You retorted, cutting up the salted beef with a dedicated kitchen knife. “Are you staying or not?” you turned to him, stopping your cuts for the moment. He nodded with a shallow ‘yeah’, making you smile then go back to cutting. You poured the meat and soup into the pot, placing the lid on top. “Some snow on top to water it down and we’ll be sleeping with full stomachs tonight.”

You had him carry some bowls and a ladle up to the roof. Within an hour the fire outside was lit and the food was cooked atop four bricks you were lucky enough to be able to upgrade your cooking fire with, the old lamp now repurposed into a weapon. There was no conversation but you didn’t feel like you needed it. The wind was calm, letting Daryl look out over the city. “Do you know where the museum is?” He asked while you were stirring the soup.

“A couple of blocks down,” you called back. “Why?”

“Me and a few others are planning on raiding it in the summer” he answered, not turning back to you.

That’s when you realised something. You had heard about all these friends. Carol, Michone, Saddiq, Rosita, Eugene, Henry, Ezekiel, Lauren. He’d mentioned them in passing, saying how they made something he brought you or appreciated something you brought him. Yet he always came alone. It would’ve made more sense if Rick was doing these deliveries, you’d met him before the winter. Sure you stitched up his leg.

The two of you were sitting in front of the fire as it fizzled out when curiosity got the better of you. You swallowed the food in your mouth.

“Why are you always here alone?” you asked, he looked up at you from the other side of the fire. “It makes more sense to have people watching your back but for the past month or so you’ve been visiting me on your own. Why?”

“That’s how it is” he scoffed between mouthfuls.

“That’s how what is?” you snapped.

“You’re allowed to be all secretive but I’m meant to have my cards on the table.” he cut back. You thought it over a second, then went back to eating. You both finished up as the fire mellowed, taking your leave back inside. You carried the pot while he held the bowls. Back in your unit, you piled the dishes into the sink.

“I should get going,” he said, going to pick up his back.

“Y/N!” you nearly yelled. “My name is Y/N,” He looked back at you incredulously. A tense silence fell over you both “Before this,” you waved your hand to motion to the apartment “I was with a few people...including my father. We managed to secure a building, kept the walkers out but after some time new people arrived and a few of them got...Protective, I guess. Including my old man.” You crossed your arms and leant against the sink, the floor now far more interesting than the man in your apartment. “People died keeping me safe when they didn’t need to, all ‘cause my old man refused to let me help, but we were still bringing in new people but not everyone was helping, either cause they weren’t allowed to or didn’t want to. That caused anger to boil in the group and then...more people died.” Thinking back on the Sanctuary tears began to flow, but your voice didn’t shake and your body stayed firm. “I ran away and I’ve been hiding ever since ‘cause I know they’ll kill me if I’m found.” You finally looked back at Daryl who had been hanging on to your every word. You wiped away your tears. “You said I can’t be secretive, well there it is.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“You don’t wanna go home” you cut him off. “You don’t like where you rest your head, that’s why you’ve been spending more and more time out here with me. I get it.” you pushed off the sink, leaning under it to pick up a jug of water to do the dishes with. “You can leave or you can stay the night. I don’t mind.”

You turned your back on him to focus on the dishes. He picked up his things and left without another word. ‘That’s it’ you thought as you scrubbed the pot, now getting more aggressive with it, ‘you fucked up Y/N.’

The following morning you woke up, opened your bedroom door, and saw a familiar red-neck on your couch. You couldn’t stop the smile that plastered your face, but you did grab some clothes from your closet then went back to your room to dress. This time when you left he was up. “‘Morning” he croaked as he stretched. “This couch was a lot comfier the first time.”

Your relationship continued like that for the next while. He’d visit you more regularly, stay for dinner, and usually, he’d stay for the night. You got tired of the complaints about the couch and cleared out the second bedroom. You liked having him visit and were willing to facilitate it. He’d even begun leaving a few things there. Functional stuff like arrows for his bow and fuel for his bike. You found him some clothes and extra blankets, and a bigger bag to carry stuff home.

You didn’t ask why he didn’t want to be with his people. After keeping everything a secret for so long it didn’t feel right, but you could guess. Between your family and your time in the army, you had developed a skill in reading people, a skill you noticed he also had. Maybe that’s why every second didn’t need to be filled with conversation. Though you wish it was so you could know more. He was kind, there was no question of that with everything he did for you without even knowing your name. Though when he came to your apartment he was tense, and he was never happy to leave. This made you think he was going somewhere he didn’t want to be, but he had to be. He always talked so highly of the settlements, trying to get you back there. He must be going someplace else.

The winter passed, your garden began to flourish again, and the walkers thawed. You thought after the winter Daryl would stop visiting but he still showed up. He didn’t come as often for a time, saying he wasn’t gonna make the trip unless he had enough to offer you. You frowned at this “Do come out” you ordered him. “You’ve got people relying on you. Children and everything and I’m able to find stuff in the city you need.”

“I don’t wanna leave you short. Our deal ya know-”

“Screw the deal, Daryl.” you huffed “You’re my friend and I wanna help you”

“Oh we’re friends?” he commented, with a cheeky smirk “Didn’t you try to kill Rick.”

‘So Tara told them’ you thought. “Yes,” you said “In a friendly way.” normally he wouldn’t find that funny, but these past few weeks escaping away to your hide-out had given him a chance to get close to you. “Come and visit me when you can, please? I got nobody else to steal my food.” That afternoon you both search for some last pieces for Daryl, having to go deeper and deeper into the city. You talked about his group’s plan to go to the museum and raid it for seeds and old machinery. You saw first-hand what a crack-shot he was with his crossbow, you whistled as another went down “Not bad bow-boy. How’d you get so good with that?”

“Before all this” you started, walking ahead to pull the arrow out of the dead one. “Me and my brother, Merle, used to move around a lot. We used to hunt sometimes for sport, sometimes for food, but he’d always make it a competition. Decided to learn a quieter weapon so I could beat that son of a bitch.” Another two walkers approached as he spoke. He shot a bolt through one of them while you took the other down with your knife. “After that, he never helped hunting again”

“Sounds like a sore loser” you commented, pulling the arrow out of the walker's head and handing it back to Daryl. He took it and reloaded the bow.

“You have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nah” you shook your head, keeping a lookout while he reloaded. “My old man said I was a miracle baby. Mom was always sick. They thought they’d never have any. I used to hate it but after hearing how Merle left you in a cell while he ran off with your girl, I’m glad.”

“Ahh, he wasn't all that bad,” he commented, walking alongside you.

“No one is as bad as they seem when you know them. At least that’s what my superior officer said”

That evening he couldn’t stay, but he left with a heavy bag and that made you happy. As the evening descended you went back to your unit. The following week would be quiet since Daryl had his big raid coming up. Though you didn’t realise how quiet until you were in the midst of it.

You had scavenged a few things. At this stage, the apartment building had been picked dry but you had a few children’s cloths and some old bandages from first-aid kits that had seen better days. As usual, you had piled everything in Daryl’s room. As usual, you were reading another book. As usual, it failed to entertain you since you’d read it about three times now. As usual, you fell asleep on the couch, not completely though because you heard the front door open.

You sat up sharply. “Dary-”

Thwack

~ Tag List ~

@softsebastian​

[gallavictorious]

If you’ve touched on this already or don’t want to please ignore!! What are you opinions on people saying Ian wasn’t really into the whole other people idea and only went along with it because Mickey seemed so enthusiastic? I watched the ep and was impressed by the honest conversations but I’ve read some interesting takes on how Mickey takes the lead, Ian wants to leave the party several times and initially says no before saying fine.

Ah, nonnie! Sorry this took me a while: I was very deliberately staying out of the kerfuffle surrounding everything that went down on Ian and Mickey’s friend date in 11x07, but I cannot resist such a polite ask. XD And it seems people have found ways to cope and moved on now and there’s a new episode coming in just a few hours so it should be safe, right? Right? Ah, famous last words…

Basically, while I think it’s very clear that Mickey is having a lot more fun at that party than Ian is, I don’t think Ian feels pressured into participating in the orgy.

To be perfectly honest, I am highly amused by the notion – also championed by @dreamylyfe-x, I believe – that Ian and Mickey are kind of pushing each other the whole day. Mickey decides to be a shit in the morning for no discernable reason and Ian is a little stung and decides that okay fuck you husband you think I should have other friends well then fine but I’m taking you down with me. ‘Cause I think Ian would genuinely enjoy some friends but knows full well that Mickey doesn’t give a shit - but Mickey’s been a prick and as punishment Ian will make him to go out there and be nice and smile and maybe he’ll think twice about making fun of Ian the next time. (He won’t.) Besides, Ian just really likes to hang out with Mickey, you know, and prefers to do pretty much everything, including friend hunting, together. Probably figures Mickey could do with a little gay education, too. Ian is a complex guy and can have a whole bunch of different motives for doing any one thing!

(There’s something interesting and a less amusing about how Ian once more uses his body and sex as leverage, as he does when he goes on a sex strike in 11x02. Now, I want to note that I don’t think his line about “who knows what will happen” a serious threat at all, but I think that whole thing – acting like he can’t be friends with chicks or straight people and can’t hang out alone with gay people without sleeping with them – is designed to get Mickey to come with him. Which succeeds, so one point to Ian! But there’s something uncomfortable but very in character about the means he employ to get there.)

Now Mickey is nothing if not opportunistic, so he characteristically decides to make the most of the outing, grabbing what handjobs, pepperonis and rosé he can. And that’s very Mickey, I feel – why should they leave when they’re being given free stuff?! – but also his own way of evening the score, uh-huh you made me go out and make friends now we gonna make the hell out of these guys how do you like now hm? Because let’s not forget that just as Ian later unsuccessfully pushes for them to leave the party, Mickey pushes for them to just walk away from the two guys buying a duvet, but Ian grabs him by his jacket and signs him up for book signings and hanging out with strangers. (There’s a lovely Swedish expression about cabbage soup drinkers that would apply here but it doesn’t translate well... )

So to me, Ian and Mickey both have very real and characteristic reasons for their behavior in this episode – Ian wouldn’t mind some friends and Mickey does think getting free food and drinks is well worth hanging out with a bunch of people he doesn’t care about for an afternoon – but there’s also an element, and not a small one, of them doing shit to kind of push and one-up one another (thank you, Riss, for help with the vocabulary – English is, as always, my enemy). And I suppose one could think of that as not great and kind of spiteful and dysfunctional but I see it as a very natural and playful dynamic that they both enjoy, even though it means occasionally ending up in situations one is not super into and occasionally being a bit exasperated with one another.

And in spite of this game of I push, you push I very much agree with you about their communication: throughout the episode they continually talk about what they want and don’t want, and for all they take turns being a little dickish they also compromise throughout, letting their partner have what they want. This is not a bad thing, as long as you don’t end up doing things you actively don’t want to do! Having a given and take in a relationship is perfectly normal!  

Now, if Ian had genuinely not wanted to participate in the orgy and felt pressured to do so, that would have been very bad. But let it be noted that even though he initially says no – reflexively, like why the hell would we even want to have an orgy with really annoying people?! – he changes his mind very quickly and without Mickey putting any real pressure on him; Mickey just argues his case, Ian is convinced, and there’s nothing to suggest that Mickey would have stayed behind anyway or “forced” Ian to join him if Ian had still said no: I don’t get the same vibe of Mickey pushing just to push here as I do earlier in the episode. He does note that it was Ian who said they didn’t have to be friends with the guys if they fucked them, but I think that’s more to make Ian truly see and accept that the quest for friendship has failed, so they might as well make the most of the evening, rather than a bid to make Ian do something against his will.

Crucially, Ian seems very happy and comfortable with Mickey afterwards, when they return to the house, even though he thinks the day has been a bit of a bust – but remember, Ian wanted friends and they didn’t find that, so that’s why he thinks it a bust, not because he was an unwilling participant in an orgy.

So, sure. Ian was less into it than Mickey was, but that’s because it wasn’t what he wanted to get out of this thing – he was there to make friends and is disappointed that this has failed! – but I don’t think he’s opposed to it, once he has accepted his friendship defeat? In the end, I think he embraces Mickey’s attitude of ‘eh, we might as well get as much out of this as possible’ and has a pretty good time of it (regardless of how much or little they actually fooled around with the other guys).

Personally, I think Mickey refusing to leave the party when Ian, clearly uncomfortable, first asks him to is far less charming and more indicative of Mickey being a little bastard than him arguing the case for an orgy is, but remember that this happens after – as previously noted – Ian completely ignores Mickey’s protests about going there in the first place. Mickey is deliberately being a bastard here, throwing Ian’s earlier words about what might happen in his face. And while that’s dickish, it is part of their normal dynamic, which they are both comfortable with – and the stakes are low. Ian will suffer uncomfortable conversation for a bit while Mickey stuffs his face, but it doesn’t actually hurt Ian – which joining an orgy against his will would, and Mickey damned well knows that. There’s just not a lot of worlds where I think Mickey would do something so genuinely nasty to his husband, you know – and as far as I’m concerned, there are other, more likely (IMO) and far more amusing readings of their interactions in 11x07 available.

I hope this made any sort of sense and answers your question, nonnie. I kind of feel like I should do a detailed conversation analysis to properly make my case but a, this is already long, and b, I don’t want to. 😉 Had a blast thinking about this, though! While there are lines in this episode that does make me cringe, I am just genuinely so delighted by this aspect of their dynamic.

[drxwsyni]

Headcanons for yandere Chisaki Kai/Overhaul, Bakugou Katsuki and Mirio Togata with a manipulative s/o

Anonymous asked: “headcanons: yandere overhaul, katsuki and mirio with a manipulative darling??🧐 A lil nsfw is always welcome 😏 i would simpp for my bois anyday if i got the chance😔 THX💞❣️💕💕💖”

a/n: we’re all simps here anon, there’s no denying that. i don’t usually do nsfw, it’s in my rules that i don’t take these reqs but i am trying to get better at writing it. right now if people ask for it i might comply but it depends on the scenario. for this i chose to do just the first two characters cause i can’t see mirio doing anything like that, he’s too pure. thanks for the request!!!

warnings: injury, nsfw (noncon?)

_____

Chisaki Kai/Overhaul:

sfw:

You’d be kidding yourself if you thought this man would fall for any form of manipulation from his darling.

He’s not an idiot, in fact he’s extremely intelligent. If anyone is going to be the manipulative one, it’s Chisaki. He’s far too analytical to be played like that.

That doesn’t mean he won’t go along with it though. Oh no, in fact he’d be more than willing to let his darling believe that they had the upper hand. It would almost be a game to him―watching as they pretended to please him to get what they wanted, or formulate their words to guilt him into giving them freedoms.

He’s not particularly sadistic, but the sight of his darling going against their nature to act like they’re obedient would be amusing. On top of that, he wouldn’t exactly be complaining to see his darling following his orders, even if they were doing it in an attempt to fool him.

So he’d let them have their fun, knowing full well that eventually they’d believe they had him right where they wanted. Of course they didn’t―they never would. Chisaki would always be multiple steps ahead, lying in wait for the moment his darling finally had that false sense of security.

He doesn’t take kindly to disobedience. Yelling at him or trying to leave on the spur of the moment is one thing. But being so committed to deceitfulness, taking pride in the thought that they were outsmarting him? That would not sit well. Chisaki would anticipate the moment they made their move, them thinking whatever plan they’d formulated had worked.

And nothing would satisfy him more to see the look of shock mixed with denial as he confided that he knew all along. Of course he’d have all the necessary precautions in place for when they decide to act upon their drawn out intentions. His darling would never really stand a chance, and he’d make that painfully clear.

nsfw:

This man would not go easy with the punishments. He needs to make sure his darling learns their place, and more importantly that they could not outsmart him. The goal is to make them understand that life would be so much easier if they just submit. Chisaki would treat them so well if they did, as long as they were genuine.

Unfortunately, a manipulative darling would need a lot of incentive to get them to that point. Being so cunning usually means that they're patient and stubborn, so it’s a good thing he can be patient too. And what better way to break their stubborn attitude than a prolonged punishment, something to really get the message across and then some?

Chisaki is definitely one kinky motherfucker. He’d leave them for hours on end, strapped to a vibe and unable to move in the almost painfully tight restraints. He wouldn’t touch them―no, that would be too kind. It would be better to let them fall apart over and over again without any break. It is a punishment after all, they’re not really supposed to enjoy it.

But realistically they will to a certain extent, which makes it so much worse. Sooner or later their resolve would break―which is exactly what he wants.

And he still loves his darling even after what they did, so of course he would supervise the whole ordeal just in case they passed out. Chisaki wouldn’t say much, maybe a gentle reminder here and there that this is what they deserved after being so ungrateful. Once he felt they were past their limit just a little he’d untie them, not before making them swear that they’d drop their behaviour.

He wouldn’t be big on affection after―obviously he’d clean them up but they still need to learn to an extent that he wasn’t pleased with them. Chisaki would save his genuine care for when they finally accepted their place.

_____

Bakugou Katsuki:

sfw:

Rather than immediately fall for his darling’s manipulation, he’d just be highly suspicious. He’s slightly self aware with his behaviour―knowing it wasn’t healthy―so it’d confuse him if his darling acted in a way to get on his good side.

If anything, it’d make him more strict with them. Bakugou wouldn’t necessarily get mad at them, because there wasn’t any need to at the moment, but he’d still be cold around them. Mostly, he’d be waiting for them to drop the act.

Part of him desperately wishes that they weren’t pretending―that they really were warming up to him, albeit rather quickly. He might just let himself pretend as well. It wouldn’t be for long, just enough to take his mind off the awful things he was doing.

Mostly, it would annoy him. He wants a genuinely obedient darling, not someone who acts like they are to use him. Bakugou would likely be suspicious of any kind of darling who’s being kind to him, but especially in this case.

He’s not the kind of person to shy away from inflicting severe punishment either. If/when his darling finally slips up thinking they had him in the palm of their hand, he’d immediately correct them. Of course he wouldn’t fall for it, who do they think he is? He’d humiliate them for even thinking they had the upper hand. It wasn’t their place to try and take advantage of him. It would almost offend him―clearly they thought they were better than him. He’d show them that absolutely wasn’t the case.

nsfw:

It would turn into mostly him taking his anger out on them. How dare they think they were better than him?

He’d be relentlessly rough with their body―face down, ass up, literally fucking them into the mattress. Spewing obscenities at every turn, clearly they wanted this, were they really that dense to think he wouldn’t catch them?

Bakugou would go at it for hours into the night. Wouldn’t give two shits about their protests either―he’d just gag them and move on. Once he felt they were thoroughly fucked, both physically and figuratively, he’d force them to admit that they were wrong. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than them begging for forgiveness, making them repeat who they belonged to as they came for the last time that night.

To pour salt on the wound, he’d be sickeningly sweet with aftercare. Not so much with the verbal sentiments, but he’d practically worship their body. He’d still be mad with them to an extent, but part of the lesson is showing them that he’s the only person who could care for them like he did.

He’d gently massage their muscles while sitting behind then in a hot bath, lathering their body in luscious soaps and moisturizers. They might be all but passed out during the process, but he’d do it nonetheless. Bakugou wouldn’t typically be an affectionate person, but he���d like doting on his darling as they tiredly slumped against his body while he tended to their worn out figure.

With all the bite marks and bruises he leaves, his darling wouldn’t be able to forget the encounter anytime soon. It would become increasingly difficult to keep up their tendencies after not being able to walk straight for a few days since their last outburst.

_____

Mirio Togata:

Oh the poor boy, he’d absolutely fall for his darling’s manipulation.

All Mirio wants is his darling to accept that he knows what’s best for them, to let him take care of all their needs. But most importantly, he wants them to love him as much as he loves them.

And so if his darling was secretly manipulative, it’d likely fly right over his head. He’d just be so gosh darn happy that they were finally comfortable with him that he wouldn’t think twice of any ill intentions.

That being said, it still would be difficult for his darling to get anything from him. He’s still fairly stubborn, and even when he’s not there are still inherent precautions in place that may thwart his darling’s plans.

Are they trying to escape? He might let them out of their cuffs but the bulletproof glass and heavy metal padlocked doors aren’t going anywhere. There’s nothing wrong with a safely built house! It’s for the both of them after all.

Realistically, his darling probably isn’t going anywhere, but they for sure can manipulate him into certain freedoms inside the house.

Just don’t let him find out it’s all an act, nothing could hurt him more. He’s delusional, but he still has feelings. It’d break his heart―normally he’d take unideal behaviour and chalk it up to his darling not knowing any better, but this...this isn’t something he’d overlook.

He’s not the type to physically punish his darling, hurting them that way isn’t his intentions. But if they ever managed to escape, or even hurt him, that might just change things.

It would be quick, he still wouldn’t like the prospect of putting his darling in pain. A broken bone or two is most likely, something long term that’d teach them a lesson. It’d take him a while to recover from the betrayal, but he’d learn from his mistakes. From that point on he wouldn’t fall for their antics. Mirio would let them act like they loved him, but he’d always be prepared for them to lash out again.

[enigma-im]

I Want You Back

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Lizardman x F!Human

Warning: communication issues, displacement, arguing, confrontation of feelings, healthy communication, sex in the kitchen

          Feelings are hard, talking them out is even harder

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

The front door opens with a sudden click. I look up from my phone, listening intently. I hear the subtle taps of talons on the floor leading towards the living room. I look back down at my phone when I realize who it is.

"You are here quite late," I call out bored. His clicking stops near the couch just behind me. Out the corner of my eye I see his scaled hand slide over the top of the cushion. Quickly he climbs over the back of the sofa and settles with his feet over the top and himself on his back.

"I do things you know," he grumbles as he reaches out for my thigh. As he pulls me closer I feel a wave of annoyance at him. It seems unbridled, if not a little childish. He rubs his face to my leg as he hugs it close.

"What things could you possibly be doing in the woods," I find myself snapping down at him. I don’t bother looking at him, still seemingly stewing in annoyance. I flip through my phone as I wait for an answer. His nuzzling has stopped and out the corner of my eye, I see him staring.

"I do plenty of things, I did have a life before you," he growls.

"Oh, prowling around the neighborhood and taking young women to ravish in the woods. I can see how you can be busy," I snort with a frown. I don’t mean that, I don’t know why I'm being this way. Him being near is both calming and frustrating. It feels like arguing with a sibling or a parent as a teenager.

"you are the only one I have ever done that with and you know it," he barks back. He rights himself on the couch, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he glares down at me. "What the hell is your problem," he sneers. Feeling my anger bubble I snap towards him with my own glare.

"Nothing is my problem, I'm just curious why you were late," I answer.

"Why does it matter that I'm late, I'm here now," he argues.

"trying to hide something? Just tell me what you were doing," I lean into his space. I can't stop myself.

"I was going to telll you until you started snapping my head off so now I rather not," he sits back on the couch, growling like an animal. I glare at him, barely noticing how childish I'm being. To be fair he is being just as ridiculous. Then again, two wrongs don’t make a right.

Not being able to bring myself to calm down I pout back in my seat. I snatch my phone from my lap and angerly read through my feed. I know he wasn’t doing anything bad, I trust him. Still, I feel we are drifting a bit, and it's frustrating when I can't voice my concerns.

With a growl he shoots up," I'm going out." he marches out the room. His claws echo around the house along with the loud stomps. I feel myself panic a bit, not wanting him to leave on such bad terms.

As I hear him grab the door I call out," Heath!" I wait for a response. I hear nothing, not even the sound of the door opening. "I'm sorry," I call out softer. The silence is nerve-racking. Did he leave?

"I'll be back," he sighs. The door creaks open then slams closed.

"Fuck," I grumble as I rub my face.

It feels like weeks since Heath and I have had a normal conversation. At first, it was fine, I was so busy with work. It's a bit of a busy season and we have been so short-staffed. I'd leave early and show up back home so late. Most of the time Heath would be asleep when I got back so we never had the chance to talk. Then, since I was never home he took to entertaining himself. Since he wasn’t home during the day I never saw him on our days off.

Once everything slowed down that’s when the arguing started. I don’t remember who started it or perhaps we both have such a short fuse lately that we began this together. Generally, the harsh words would end with us just going to bed or sitting in stiff silence. Last night was the first time he has left. It scares me, to say the least.

Coworkers have started noticing my sour moods. I hardly acknowledged that I was bringing my anger from home to work but everyone else has. I've snapped at some people, snatching papers from others, answering in short words. It's been stressful.

"Meeting is moved to four," Casey walks into my office.

"Four, what was wrong with three," I huff, typing away at my keyboard.

"Not everyone was available for three so it was pushed to four," Casey leans against the door frame with a smirk. I pass an off-shoulder glance at her, sneering to myself when I see her grin.

"What are you smiling about," I grumble. She doesn’t answer for a moment so I turn fully towards her, cocking a brow. She gives me a once over before shaking her head with a smile.

"Nothing, just thought of something funny," she waves her hand.

"Well please do share with the class," I cross my arms, tapping my foot on the carpet. She continues to eye me, mounting my frustration of this conversation more.

"You have a boyfriend, right," she bites her tongue. I stiffen at the question. Everyone here knows I have someone but don’t know what he is. Can't imagine everyone here would be so open-minded with Heath and I's relationship. Even if he was human I don’t think anyone would approve of how we met either.

"Yes," I answer cautiously.

"Must be a shame you haven't been home much lately, what with all the late hours," she asks with mirth. What the hell is she implying?

"Yea, and," I squint at her.

She chuckles to herself, mumbling," you are a bit slow today, huh?" she straightens and asks bluntly," when is the last time you two had sex?" I choke on my breath, coughing while she laughs.

"There are some HR concerns here," I try to joke as I catch my breath.

"Yea, well, you have been a tyrant as of late so I think that’s more of a concern," she points out.

"I have not been a tyrant," I ponder," ok, I may have been less than civil but I highly doubt its because of my love life."

Casey walks further into the room, closing the door behind herself. " You poor naïve girl. Do you understand the importance of intimacy in a relationship? My husband and I went through a bit of a dry spell and we were at each other's throats. Wanting to be near each other but can't stand the feelings hanging over us," she gives me a sympathetic look.

"Yea, that doesn’t mean that’s what's wrong! Perhaps I am just stressed with work," I counter.

"Then you know a good way to relieve stress," she grins," sex. Preferably with your boyfriend." I grumble at her reasoning, crossing my arms and looking out the window. I hear her sigh beside me, stepping closer and turning my chair. "Has he been tense too," she asks. I glance over to her and nod slowly," have you two talked about this?" I shake my head," then go home tonight and you two talk then fuck each other's brains out. Do you both some good." my face heats up and I immediately cover it with my hands. She reels back and laughs as I grumble into my palms.

"Casey, you disgusting perv," I chuckle along with her.

"Hey, if I'm right then tell me about it tomorrow. Till then, have fun," she continues to laugh as she exits the room, leaving me to my own devices.

I huff in amusement as she leaves. I turn back to my desk and let my mind wander. She could be right, I never thought of it though. I have not been in a serious relationship like this one, never having a stall in my sex life with someone. Do people really get like this over something as ridiculous as sex?

In a rush of questions, I pull out my phone and Google 'What causes arguing in relationships'. Immediately I find a list with explanations on the first link. Most were simple like 'family issues' or ' unshared chore load' but the most common was lack of intimacy.

"Well fuck," I groan as I read. I never knew this was a thing. Who pushes someone away when all they want is to be around them? The article fits exactly what's happening though, down to a tee. I guess that answers it, Casey might be right.

After work, I sit down in the living room going over my thoughts. Heath isn't home yet which has been common as of late. It's still daylight out so I'm not too worried. As he said before, he does have a life outside of me. I find myself feeling a bit hollow as I think about him. I miss him. It’s a weird thought, I have seen him every day but… it doesn’t feel the same.

As I work around my feelings the back door opens. I twist around on the couch and look through the kitchen doorway to see Heath closing the back door.

"Hey," I call out. His head snaps up and I'm disappointed that I'm not greeted with his normal smile. I guess things have been bad lately.

"Hey," he grumbles as he walks further into the kitchen. He steps out of view and I hear the fridge open. I hop off the couch and head towards him, wanting to face him before I lose my nerve. He is hunched over with his head in the fridge when I see him. I can't help but look him over, admiring his strong body. I really have missed him.

I startle him when I wrap my arms around his middle, resting my head to his back. His posture softens as his hands engulf mine.

"I've missed you," I grumble into his scales. His sigh is content like he agrees with me. His hands pet over mine before his fingers separate them. He twists around as he holds me. He holds our hands close to his chest before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to mine.

"I've missed you too," he nearly whispers. I try to bite back my smile but it has never worked around him. Instead, I pounce forward and hug him close. His chuckle rumbles up from his chest near my ear. His hands settle on my back as he holds me close too. We stand in the kitchen near the open fridge until the machine begins to beep. We part as he shuts the thing. I settle against the counter opposite of him and watch him. His gaze settles on me and I can feel the inevitable confrontation settling above me like a knife on a rope.

"Heath," I sigh," we need to talk."

His head drops with his own sigh," yea, we do."

We stand there for longer than we need to, no one speaking as we continue to prolong the issue. I know what I want to say but having to speak about it feels too vulnerable. It's too personal to explain how much our distance has been hurting. I hate arguing with him so this is necessary.

"I'm sorry-"

"I've been-," we both start at the same time.

We chuckle before Heath points to himself," I should start."

"Yea, go ahead," I lean back on my hands against the counter.

With a sigh he starts," I've been such an ass lately, and I'm sorry for not just telling you what I've been doing. It was never anything bad, it just felt wrong to tell you. We have been so apart lately that sharing things like my day has been alarming. I want to be around you but when I'm there I feel so frustrated. I've been taking that out on you and I'm sorry." I nod at his confession as I think on my own words. I feel the same way, I want him near but I push him away when he is there. Its been so confusing and frustrating. Thank god for Casey or I would have sat in my own feelings instead of confronting the problem.

I look at his worried face for just a moment," I have been less than fair with you. As much as I want to blame you for all of this as a stubborn proud woman I know that’s incorrect. I haven't been home lately and I know that’s been hard on us both. I think because no one said anything about it that we have just been suffering in silence till we just started snapping at each other like children."

"I wanted to say something about you not being here but it didn’t seem fair. It's your job, its how you pay for all this," he gestures to the house," I didn’t want to make you feel bad for me so I just kept quiet about it."

"That's exactly why I think we have been so distant, we haven't shared our feelings. I hate having to work late and not being able to sit down with you on the couch, watching some stupid show while we talked about anything. I adore actually going to sleep together more than showing up when you are already in bed. Also," I turn away with tinted cheeks," do you remember the last time we had sex?" he stares at me confused and in thought.

"Last month, I think. Fuck, has it been that long," he walks over," god, babe, I'm sorry. It has barely crossed my mind, you have been so tired lately I didn’t want to make it worse with my wants." he rests his hands on either side of me, cornering me to the counter.

"No, I'm sorry. I've been so busy I haven't even thought about it and it isn't till Casey brought it up tha-," I try to apologize.

"Wait, who is Casey and why are they more aware of this than us," he looks a bit offended. I reach out and smooth my hands over his arms.

"Casey is a lady from work, she confronted me in my office and offered a reason for my snippiness lately," I find myself chuckling," she said she has experience in this, having gone through it with her own husband. I didn’t believe her at the time but after doing some reading it made sense. I've wanted you around but pushing you away in the process. I love you, Heath, I'm sorry for being a lousy girlfriend." I look down at his stomach as I sit in self-pity. He startles me by grabbing my shoulder and crushing me to his chest.

"Babe, I love you too. I've wanted you around but not being able to talk to you about anything in fear that it will stress you out at work has been killing me. I've been talking with this Were who has trespassed here and I didn’t want you to fret because I had it under control. That’s what has been keeping me busy all week," he finally explains.

The relief of having everything out now is so sweet. I thump my head to his chest, sighing with finality. This whole thing has been ridiculous and childish. All we had to do was talk to each other, it was so simple.

"We are idiots," I laugh," if you want to have sex all you have to do is ask."

Heath snorts, pulling me into a hug. I wrap my arms around him, burying my face into his chest as he nuzzles my hair.

"If I knew it was that easy I would have had you sooner," he rubs his cheek to my head," so, doll, want to have sex?" I huff in laughter, shaking my head with a snicker.

"I think I can pencil you in," I joke," you think you can be free around 8?" I lean away from his chest, smiling at his amused annoyance.

"Shut up," he kisses me. I laugh against his lips, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lifts me onto the counter, growling as his hands fall to my thighs.

Our kiss is hungry, demanding more every second as we begin to palm at each other. A brief split allows him to remove my shirt, diving back in shortly after. He snarls near my neck, licking and nibbling the sensitive skin.

"I've missed you so damn much," he growls," your taste rivals all others." his teeth pinch the skin near my ear while he pulls me into his crotch. I arch my back, pressing my chest to his. The sweet love bites bring my pulse up with every nibble.

"I've missed your fierce attentions," I chuckle, rolling my hips into his hardening cock. He rumbles with a growl, stopping his bites in favor of pushing his cock between my thighs. I lean away, thumping my head lightly against the cabinets, and watch his cock. The pointed tip peaks near my stomach, the sight too appetizing. With a grin I reach down and grab him, thumbing his tip.

"Damn," he seethes," I've missed your soft hands." he watches me jerk him off, nuzzling against my shoulder. His attention son falters as he catches sight of my breast. As I pinch at his tip he licks at my nipple, sucking the nub into his mouth with a purr.

I gasp, stopping my hands," I've missed your tongue." he chuckles against me, swirling his wet tongue over my chest with interest. The cold air cools the saliva covered skin adding more to the otherwise pleasurable assault.

Heath soon lowers his body into a kneel as he licks down my stomach. He is face to face with my clothed crotch. With ease he grabs the hem of my pants and tugs them down, nearly pulling me off the counter with them. He gently guides my legs outs of the clothing, letting it drop to the kitchen floor. He growls eagerly, parting my legs when he focuses back on my crotch. Fitting himself closer he buries his face against my cunt and licks.

He hums," I've missed your delicious pussy." he swipes a lick again, swirling his tongue along my clit with practiced ease. I nearly bang my head against the cabinet again as I arch into his mouth. The immediate pleasure screams to me, telling me how stupid I was for forgetting about this. How could I ever forget about how talented his rough tongue is, forget enough to not seek him out every night? I pet his head, panting as he laps at my folds.

My climax is quick, as to be expected from such an unnecessary hiatus. Also to be expected from someone who knows how to play me like a fiddle. He drinks from me, pulling as much as he can from me before he is willing to part. As he leans away I catch the glistening coming from his wet mouth. He licks around his lips, smirking up at me with that cocky smile.

"I've missed your pleased face," he says as he stands. He crowds me as I rest weakly on the counter. I place a hand to his chest, catching my breath still.

"I think it was my turn," I joke," I've missed your cunnilingus skills."

Heath hums as he rests his head against mine," one more and it's my turn again."

"Alright," I pet at his chest," I've missed how hot you make me by just being you." Heath smiles, the fire in his eyes dulling in favor of watching me sweetly. He presses a gentle kiss to my lips.

"I've missed you in general," he almost whispers," I love you."

I cup his cheeks," I love you, too. Now, show me how much I've missed your cock." he snickers, leaning away to look down between us. He grabs himself, pushing the pointed tip to my entrance.

"You have always had a way with words," he pushes in, sighing as he does," but I can confidently say, I've missed how tight you grip me." he releases himself, leaning forward to rest on his hands. His head props against my shoulder, his breath barely coming out. Without preamble he bucks his hips towards mine, burying himself quickly with a stuttering gasp. I copy him, gasping as my head thumps once more against the cabinet.

"oh yea," I pant," I've definitely missed your big dick."

He shakes his head with a laugh," such a way with words."

Heath starts slow, relishing in the retreat then enjoying the entry. The gentle push and pull are enough to ease me, relaxing my body but still stroking a flame. A light pleasurable burn begins where he reaches the deepest, trailing after him with every pull. The burn becomes demanding, taking us both and telling us 'more'.

"Heath," I grab at his shoulder, tightening my legs around him. He catches the message, snapping his hip harshly. He begins a quick climb, bucking his hips faster every second. Soon he is plowing into me, forcing breath from my lungs. His knee bumps into the cabinets below, adding to the sound of our bodies clapping against each other.

"doll," he groans near my ear," I'm at my wits ends here, te-agh-tell me your close." I claw at his scaled skin, pulling him closer as I roll my hips to meet his.

"y-yea," I pant, hugging him to me. We both eagerly take from the other, grunting and groaning as we reach our mutual ends.

He is first, stuttering his hips with a broken growl. I feel him cum, his warmth flooding my insides. The heat brings upon my own climax, squeezing onto his throbbing member. He leans into me, gasping as I milk him. We both stiffen till our bodies take their fill, soon falling lax against each other.

The kitchen becomes quiet, my ears ringing for a moment. I soon hear Heath's ragged breathing, the rushing of my ears fades. As we come back to ourselves I pet at his back, holding him with my legs.

"I've missed this," he kisses my shoulder," I just wish I had enough thought to take you to bed first but I'll take what I can. Though it's hard to cuddle like this." I laugh, resting my cheek against him.

"We can still go to bed," I answer with a shrug.

He nods," give me a moment."

We rest in the kitchen for a second longer before he lifts me off the counter. He carries me upstairs to our room, cradling me against himself as we lay in bed. I grab the blanket and throw it over us before relaxing into his hold. Everything feels peaceful, like the stress of the last few weeks have been lifted. I can finally fall asleep next to him, protected in his warm hug.

"you awake," Heath whispers.

"yea," I answer, humming in content as he pulls me closer.

"I'm sorry for not talking with you about my frustrations, I promise I will talk with you if something is bothering me," he says. My heart flutters at his words, pleased about his declaration.

"I promise I will do the same, I'm truly sorry I was so snippy with you. I hate that I was that way, you never deserved it," I answer.

He hums," so, let's not be idiots again and fuck on the reg."

I snort," That's one way to put it."

"it's a good idea," he shrugs," expect sex in the morning."

"Alright," I laugh," I eagerly await the morning."

"good," he hums," now go to sleep, you'll need it."

I shut my eyes, allowing sleep to begin its claim," good night."

"night."

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

Technically a second part to Crocodile Rock. Also very similar plot to Under Pressure. It just something that i tend to do in relationships. i’m so bad at talking it out that i will stew in my frustrations. its really bad thing to do, just talk it out.

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Crocodile Rock

Under Pressure

[lady-thor-foster]

Say Okay // Thor x Reader (Roommate AU) P1

Pairing: Thor x WOC Reader Word Count: 1.4k+ Warning: No powers, smut, langauge, feelios. We all know what you’re here for :D

Summary: It’s been so long since someone’s made you feel wanted, cherished and loved. It’s been even longer since you’ve gotten lucky! What happens when you discover your roommate a wants to give you all of the above?

Inspiration: “Say Okay” – Vanessa Hudgens

“When you call, I don’t know, If I should pick up the phone, every time… I’m not like all my friends who keep calling up the boys, I’m so shy But I don’t wanna be into you, If you don’t treat me the right way. See I can only start seeing you If you can make my heart feel safe...”

How many years has it been since you felt the touch of a lover?

Fuck if you knew. You were content with your toys and fanfic, you told yourself. (That’s a lie, but we’re not talking about that right now). You’re not one of those people who needs to be in a relationship to feel happy. You were completely happy by yourself! (This is only half a lie, that counts, right?)

Of course, it certainly doesn’t help that you have a blonde god for a roommate, and he is no stranger to hot people sharing his bed. Human or not, Thor is just not of this world. It’s obvious at this point the universe is mocking just how empty it is on the other side of your bed.

Groaning, you stuffed your face into a pillow and tried very hard not to replay the sounds of the intense sex going on at the end of the hall. No, you’re not jealous at all, you told yourself. You totally didn’t mind hearing the couple he brought home moaning in ecstasy for the last 4 hours. (This is absolutely another lie).

How much stamina does Thor have anyway?? How is a marathon for 4 hours actually possible???? Did they stop for drinks?? Shaking the nearly endless stream of thoughts from your head, you chastised yourself for being so nosy. Thor’s a grown man, he’s welcome to fuck who he likes. (And he does, frequently and several times a night…). Gods, you really need to get laid.

“That’s it! No more feeling sorry for yourself [Y/N],” you proclaimed, “We are going out with the girls tonight and we are getting fucked!”

A loud snort followed by a crash and a yelp sounded on the other side of your bedroom door. Blood suddenly drained from your face as you realized your apartment had been suspiciously quiet for the last few minutes. Oh no. He didn’t hear that…did he?

Racing to the door, your heart thundered as you swung it open to reveal a still shirtless Norse man blushing visibly. Oh, fuck. A broken vase was littered around his bare feet, clearly knocked from the table; he grinned at you sheepishly. Can the ground open and just swallow you whole, right now? That’s not too much to ask for, is it?

“I’ll clean it up?” he said, still looking as embarrassed as you. Taking a deep breath, you decided you’re both adults, there’s no reason this needs to be awkward. (Too late). There’s only one of the most attractive people standing shirtless and barefoot in front of—BAREFOOT!

“Don’t move!” you shouted, startling you both, “there’s broken pieces everywhere and you’re not wearing any shoes!" Thor glanced down and you swore his ears turned an even brighter shade of red. Slipping on your sneakers, you carefully tip toed around what was left of the ceramic vase and worked really hard not to look your roommate in the eye. Once you were clear of the debris, you dashed quickly to the kitchen, snagged the broom, his shoes, and headed back to the hallway. Thor just watched you with an amused expression when you walked towards him with outstretched arms.

“Chop chop, motherfucker,” you smirked, “it ain’t gonna clean itself.” He snorts again and takes the broom and shoes from you. After putting his shoes on, he begins to sweep up the debris. How is it possible that he even looks beautiful doing menial chores? You’re definitely not frumpy by any means but he is just unfairly gorgeous, and you still have no idea how he agreed to be your roommate.

“Having some trouble getting fucked, are you?” he asked. This is one of those times where you’re so glad to be blessed with dark coppery skin; no one can see you blush. You wouldn’t be bested by him, especially not tonight!

“I’ll have you know, I do perfectly fine, thank you. I’m just highly selective, that’s all,” you said with your chin held high. He narrowed his gaze at your bluff and decided to call it anyway.

“Really? Why is it we’ve been roommates for almost two years and I’ve never seen anyone in your bed that wasn’t Hilde, Gamora, or Clintasha?” Your eyes widened slightly at his observations. Damn, he didn’t miss a thing, did he?

“Highly. Selective.”

“Right, and I’m Sif.”

“Highly. Selective. That’s all!” Thor shook his head at you and continued cleaning up. When his back was turned, you snuck into your bedroom and closed the door softly behind you. Now, back to your mission.

“I’m surprised you wanted to come out tonight, [Y/n]” Natasha said as she sipped her drink, “you don’t normally do this kind of thing.” There were three of you seated at at VIP table in a club that was simply called “Dongs”. Yes it was exactly that kind of club and yes you cringed every time you thought of where you were.

“I’m tired of having an empty bed,” you said simply. Natasha and Gamora nodded in understanding and gestured around the bar.

“Take your pick, I’m sure anyone of these people would be happy to warm your bed for the night.” Natasha was right. Ever since the two you set foot into the club you’d been getting sultry looks from the crowd. It made you feel good. It made you feel sexy.

“Wanna dance?” came a deep, velvety voice. You turned your head to find an exquisitely beautiful dark- skinned man with a smile as bright as the sun and thick locs that fell past his broad shoulders. Meeting his smile, you took his hand and allowed him to lead you to the dance floor. Glancing back at the girls they raised their glasses in approval and grinned wickedly. The gorgeous man pulled you close and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Heimdall,” he said. You didn’t know a name could sound so sexy falling from someone’s lips.

“[Y/n],” you responded, matching his energy. A chuckle rumbled through his chest and you shivered. The anticipation of his hands roaming your body sent goosebumps down your spine. The music changed to a slow song and Heimdall placed his hands respectfully on your hips, moving his in time with yours.

“Seems like I asked you to dance at the right time.”

“I think anytime dancing with you is the right time,” you replied. He chuckled again and pulled you flush against his body. You wrapped your arms around his neck and swayed to the beat.

You didn’t know where this sudden confidence came from, but you couldn’t help it. The way his amber eyes looked at you made you feel oh so desired. You weren’t doing much more than swaying your hips together to the rhythm of the song but the heat in gaze made you burn. The scent of his cologne was making your head spin. You bit your lip and briefly wondered would it be like to kiss him. Little did you know, he was wondering the same thing.

He leaned down and brushed his lips against your cheek. The sweetness behind the gentle gesture made you melt. Where has this man been your entire life?  

“Is this okay?” he asked, the question reflecting in his eyes. You nodded eagerly, with a wide smile plastered on your face. He grinned back at you. Feeling bold, you stood on your tip toes and brushed a kiss to his full lips. He grunted in surprise.

“Is that okay?” you asked back. Instead of answering you verbally, he dipped his head and kissed you again, deeply. The feel of his mouth moving against yours was heaven. It had been so long since anyone kissed you like this that you couldn’t help but feel a little rusty. A trickle of insecurity set in and you pulled away.

“Too fast?” he questioned; his brow furrowed in worry. You shook your head and bit your lip nervously.

“It’s been a while,” you replied, ``I don’t normally do this.”

“That’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing his warm hands up and down your arms, “we can just dance if you want.” And so you danced.

Turns out, Heimdall was quite the dancer. He shuffled, two stepped, and lifted you like you weighed nothing. It was the most fun you’d had in quite a while! Three hours later and you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you were greeted with a surprise!

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[straightouttaneptune]

Partner

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warning: FLOOF, everyone except Tasha and Y/N is stupid, swearing, guns, fighting, that’s it bb!

Summary: Natasha is assigned a mission with an Agent she doesn’t know. So, she ends up dragging a civilian who she assumes is her partner into a highly-violent mission.

A/N: AHHHHH EVERYONE ITS MY FIRST FIC IN MONTHS IM BACK THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND THE PATIENCE!!

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Y/N Y/L/N. You were just another citizen of the planet earth, not an inhuman, not an assassin, not a super, not a mutant and certainly not an Avenger. You grew up in an everyday household, went to school, had decent grades, led a good career, and overall life. 

So... how did you get here right now? To know this, we have to rewind time, to around a month ago.

-11:00 am, SHIELD office 09

"Agent Romanoff, sorry to do this to you." Nick Fury looked over at Natasha apologetically, while she herself remained stoic. "But you know that the rest of your teammates can be... unpredictable." To this, she let out a small chuckle.

"It's not a big deal, I know they can be dramatic." She slid the file on the table, opening it to examine the details of the mission. "Wait, this is a doubles mission?" The surprise was evident in her voice, as she assumed that this would be a one-woman job.

"She's a beginner agent. Don't worry, she's just there for support." Fury stated casually as if he didn't leave out one of the most relevant information. 

"Right, okay, can I meet her?"

"No. She's out at the moment."

"How do you expect me to work with someone I've never met?" Natasha inquired, confused beyond words.

"There's a description! And everything!" Fury defended himself, pointing at the file she held in her hands. At that moment, Natasha could see why he was the leader of the Avengers. Sighing in defeat, she retreated back to the training area.

Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes, around her age, pretty, it probably wouldn't be hard to find this partner. And just like that, her mind wandered away from the mission, to her training regime for the day.

-5:00 pm, Y/N's apartment

"C'mon, Y/N! It'll be so fun, I'm telling you!" Your old uni friend pleaded over the phone, while you balanced the pros and cons of going out tonight.

"Mm, I don't know... I mean, I was going to have a Star Wars marathon." You pouted, glancing at your TV wantingly. Oh, what you'd give to cuddle up with a tub of ice cream tonight.

"Y/N, come on. You can't just couch potato every day." You ran out of excuses to give, reluctantly agreeing to her offer.

"God, I haven't been to a club in forever." You rummaged through your closet, only finding office clothes and comfy hoodies. In the very back, though, you knew that there was a little skimpy dress you used to wear back when you were in university. "... Fuck it. It's just one night."

You closed the door to your apartment with your heart hammering in your chest. You hadn't dressed like this in what felt like forever, you almost forgot how good you looked. Whatever happens, you had your trusty taser gun hidden in your thigh-high boots.

Feeling like an utter and complete boss b*tch, you entered the booming club with your friends in tow. "Y/N! I knew you still had it in ya." You rolled your eyes at one of your friends' comments, but your heart secretly swelled at her words. 

The start of the night was amusing, but as time flew by, your buddies were swooped away by unknown guys and girls, leaving you to drink all alone by the bar. Of course, it wasn't like you didn’t have dance requests and numbers asked, but none of them really interested you.

Natasha had arrived at the club a little later than you did, clad in a spy-dress and spy-shoes with various weapons hidden underneath, inside, wherever there was space. The infamous Strucker was reported to be here in this club tonight, but first, she needed to find her associate.

It wasn't hard to find you, as she assumed that an Agent would be somewhere that was easy to see, unlike the dance floor. So the bar. And luckily, by the bar, there was only one woman who fit the description given to her. You. 

To her surprise, you were way more distracting than she had expected. Your short dress hugged your curves just right, your effortless movements were eye-catching and elegant. And your smile, god. The way you smiled at the bartender made her wish she was him. 

But at that moment, she was an Agent of SHIELD, and she had a job to do.

You were just about to order another glass of your drink when a hand was laid on your shoulder. You looked back to see if it was another flirter, but was taken aback by the gorgeous woman standing there. She had her calloused hand on your shoulder, yet her eyes were not on you, scanning the crowd. 

"Uhm, can I help-" 

"How did you get here?" Natasha recited her code-word, to double-check if it really was her assigned partner.

"With my friends...?" You wondered if you were drunker than you thought, and hallucinating this beautiful woman in front of you, asking weird questions.

But the problem was, "With my friends" was the actual code-word. 

"Good. Agent Natasha Romanoff. I assume you already know about the mission. I've got intel that Strucker's up in the VIP lounge." She gently tugged at your arm and pulled you off of your stool, handing you an earpiece. 

"Oh, um..." You tried to ask this 'Agent Natasha Romanoff' what was happening, but she continued to talk about things you couldn't even start to comprehend.

"Come on, put it on. We might need it." She stared you down, in a quite intimidating manner, that you had no choice but to follow. You really didn't know what was happening, whether this was role-playing or something else, you had no idea. 

You really didn't have much else to do anyway, maybe it wouldn't be that bad to just go with it. You were a little tipsy, but not so much that you could be dreaming about this whole conversation. Maybe it was this woman's way of hitting on you? They say weird things happen in clubs, right? (They don't)

"We have to get through the 4 security details on the outside, plus the 10 estimated to be inside." You watched with your eyes glued to her smooth movements, as she checked her various hidden weapons. You were so entranced that with a little help from alcohol, you managed to completely ignore the fact that this didn't look normal. At all.

"It's fine, I know you just started. Just be on alert, alright?" Although Natasha felt her partner's whole attitude was a little off, she shook it off, reminding herself that she had just started out. "Say, what should I call you?" She asked, starting to walk towards the stairs leading to Strucker's location.

"Oh, uhm- Y/N's fine." You stuttered, suddenly pulled away from a trance-like state you were in. "Right, and where are we go-" 

Suddenly, as the two of you got to the top of the stairs, Natasha shushed you and slammed you on the wall before you made a turn around the corner. Your cheeks burned up at her roughness, and her close proximity to you.

"Okay, I've got visual. 4 men, not an issue. Stay here." She whispered, and before you could even respond, she was out of your sight.

"What the fuck?!" After a few moments, you peeked over at where Natasha had gone, just to be met with a sight of 4 bodies on the floor. You debated whether to just run away while she was distracted, but she had already gotten to you, pulling you by your arm.

"I know this is your first field mission, Agent. But I need support." You had no reason to comply, except for the shiny black gun she held in her hands. Your breath hitched at the weapon, your mouth unable to form words. Telling yourself that this will be over soon, you could only follow. At the very least, she didn’t look like she was going to shoot you.

From there, you experienced something you never thought you would, ever, in your life. As soon as Natasha kicked open the door to the lounge, bullets were flying, kicks and punches were being thrown everywhere, knives flying across the air, and whole lotta things that had you cursing in confusion and fear every 10 seconds. 

Natasha, in the corner of her eyes, saw the panic that flashed across your eyes. She shoved you to the farthest corner of the room, shielding the knives and guns that pointed your way. She usually would’ve been annoyed at an Agent’s lack of experience, but seeing you so small almost hurt her physical heart.

You were curled up by the wall, watching this intricate dance of deadliness. But even though the chaos, the woman, who called herself Agent Natasha Romanoff was like a magnet for your eyes. Her movements, her punches, kicks, even the way she held her gun was so rhythmical and controlled, that you almost forgot you were in the middle of a gun-fight.

That's when it hit you. 

She was a real Agent who mistook you for her partner. 

So when Natasha was going one-on-one and overpowered by who seemed to be the leader of the gang, you only had 2 choices in front of you. Either you run while all the other men are knocked out and the leader is distracted, or you toughen up and help Natasha.

It was perfect. The mafia-looking guy had his back to you, completely unaware that you were even in the room. All rational thoughts went out the window as you heard Natasha choke in his grip. You almost don't remember what you did after that. All you know is that you slid your stun-gun out of your boot, and shot him right on his shoulder. 

You stood still in your spot after that, watching as she cleaned up.

"Thanks for the last-minute save." Natasha's voice sounded like you were hearing her from underwater, your senses dulled from the shock. You fell to the floor, suddenly losing control of your legs. 

"Hey, what's the matter?" She dropped the knocked out and hand-cuffed body of the man on the ground, and ran over to you.

"Agent... I'm not who you think I am." You looked up at her with glossy eyes, not even knowing why you were about to cry.

-a whole lot of explaining later-

"You're a civilian." She fell down next to you, clearly horrified by this new revelation. "I don't even know how to apologize. I'm sorry." She cradled her head in her hands, cursing herself for being so irresponsible.

"Uhm, Agent Romanoff? It's okay, I think." You wiped away your stray tears, cry-laughing at yourself and this whole ridiculous situation. Natasha looked over at you with sympathy filled in her eyes, laying a hand over yours that rested on the carpet.

"Oh god, this is crazy." Natasha couldn't do anything but laugh. The two of you kept on talking and laughing about how today turned out as you dragged the handcuffed body out of the VIP exit, and into her police-car like vehicle. 

You had to let her take you back to her office, to check you for injuries and explain the situation to her boss. You must’ve received at least 50 apologies from the both of them, but you assured them that you were okay.

And... it turns out, not a lot of people can react like you did in a first fight. On top of this, the Avengers were actually looking for a support agent, who stays back at the compound and become that “girl in the chair”. 

And guess how all of that coincidence on top of a coincidence turned out.

That simple night out led you inside a gigantic tower that everyone in New York knew about, where the notorious Avengers lived, the Stark Tower. 

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.” 

-a month later-

You felt emotionally fulfilled, looking out at the sight of the living room. When it was just you, it was always quiet, considering you used to lived on your own. But in a short span of a month, you quickly got used to the noisy mornings, the laughters and banters filling the room.

“Hi, принцесса.” You felt a pair of arms slide under your arms, and a small kiss planted on your bare shoulder. You giggled as Natasha twirled you around, sitting you down on the counter as she kissed you.

“Mm, good morning babe.” You whispered back. And in her strong arms, you felt what the people call love, in this fiery assassin. Natasha couldn’t ask for a better partner to share her deepest secrets with, to follow to the ends of the earth, and protect with all she had.

“Tonyyy, Y/N and Tasha are making out on your coffee beansss.” Clint yelled from his place on the couch, an evil smile on his face as Tony ran into the kitchen.

“Not my Tanzania Peaberry Coffee beans!” 

All is good. (?)

(The real Agent got shit-faced and was fired lol)

[louiserandom]

Of Stolen Innocence and Ruined Dates

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara | Rating: E 

Summary: Madara wants a date.

Tobirama also wants a date, and normally he’d have to ask his ridiculously overprotective brother’s permission first, but he’s feeling rebellious today.

Hashirama just wants to protect his darling Otouto’s innocence—and what the fuck is Tobirama doing naked in Madara’s bed?!

Read on AO3 or continue under the cut :3 Ko-fi info is in the header!

Madara takes a moment to breathe and silently reassure himself that he is, indeed, an exceptionally courageous man.

He was always able to face his fears and unafraid to check under his bed for terrifying giant spiders when he was a child (even though he would have to scramble to one of his brothers’ room more often than not for additional comfort). The latter is a redundant detail, however, since he’s grown into quite the dangerous, deadly, brilliant war strategist and army leader who sent his enemies fleeing in terror from his gunbai. Madara is, in fact, the only one strong enough to fight the fabled God of Shinobi to a standstill... well, was. As he’d learned soon after Konoha’s formation, Tobirama manages the feat just fine as well.

And therein lies the problem, of course. In Senju Tobirama, who seems perfectly content to keep at his paperwork, ever productive and efficient, completely oblivious to Madara’s struggle.

Madara grinds his teeth, groaning inwardly.

What a dick.

A shameless one at that, always flitting about with that overly lose kimono shirt and tight-fitting breeches, sitting with his legs spread out on his chair, lounging on the small couch in the corner or downright sprawled over his desk like some indecent... something.

Even more annoying is Madara’s inability to keep his eyes off him.

It was so godsdamn easy to deal with him before, going from hate to dismissal as they built the foundations of their village and Tobirama stopped being the chief threat to Madara’s only remaining brother. But things took a drastic turn for the worse (or better, as his mind insisted) that fateful day when Madara did learn that he’s not the only one able to match Hashirama in combat. There was something positively tantalizing and admittedly riveting about Tobirama’s genius, how he pushed his already exceptional water style far enough to be able to manipulate not only blood, but the water contained in Hashirama’s Mokuton, which often enough rendered it powerless. Even more surprising was his insistence on only doing the latter in the privacy of highly secluded sparring matches, lest any enemies of the village discover his Anija’s weak spot and take advantage of it.

That was the first time, really, that Madara ever saw something in the Senju that left him hopelessly intrigued. Intrigued enough toーnot stalk him, obviously, of course not, but to watch Tobirama more closely, to notice what made him tick, pick up on the little details Madara had never had an interest in before. He should have known it was a dangerous path, with every time he noticed Tobirama absolutely melt in the presence of children, every time he found Tobirama playing with cats, dogs, birds, even the wild and freakish animals populating the Forest of Death and cooing over them not unlike Hashirama would. Then there were the glimpses Madara got into Tobirama’s personal life, getting more acquainted with his mind-boggling experiments and audacious research that never left Madara bored. Neither did Tobirama’s impeccable training routine which Madara has grown used to running through together in the mornings, and his eager willingness to dance with Madara during their increasingly frequent spars is an added bonus.

Then there’s his efficiently in all matters ranging from politics to economics and infrastructure, which Madara gets to appreciate more now that he’s fled from Hashirama’s clusterfuck of an office to Tobirama’s working space. But that also led to the inconvenience of seeing those loose kimonos and flattering breeches (which Tobirama only tends to wear around Madara, incidentally, behaving more or less proper when Madara masks his chakra and... observes him). And those striking red eyes and messy locks of hair Madara wants to just grab and���

Well, Madara decides, I'm fucked.

Because even he had to admit, despite his best efforts to strangle his stupid fucking impulses before they manifested into fucking feelings, that somewhere along the line, he developed a dangerously persistent crush on his once enemy.

And the fourth night in a row dreaming about Tobirama writhing under him as he kisses him senseless was Madara last godsdamned straw.

He wants a fucking date.

One fucking godsdamned date. Maybe a good, hard fuck on top of that, and that will be the end of it.

(The end of it, he reiterates in his mind just in case.)

So, Madara reminds himself for the umpteenth time in a row that he is exceptionally brave, and he is not afraid to tell the Senju out, godsdammit. Ask him out, he mentally corrects himself, remembering Izuna’s advice on being civil and subtle and whatnot.

Madara can do that. There’s little in this world he can’t do. And Izuna’s assured him that Madara isn’t imagining things, that Tobirama’s gaze does linger a little too long whenever Madara strips in the summer heat. That Tobirama has made far too many an excuse to align his meetings and breaks with Madara’s schedule, rather than Hashirama’s, Izuna’s or Tōka’s.

This speaks to at least a little interest from his side, right?

Madara's sigh rings loudly in his miserable silence. Because of course there's only one fucking way to find out for sure—and the workday drawing to a close as they finish up their remaining concerns for the day seems like the perfect opportunity to embark on his romantic pursuit.

“Oi, Senju,” he starts, wincing at himself because how could he fuck up right from the beginning? “I meanーTobirama?”

The man in question gives him a questioning look from where he’s loungingーagainーon his desk. “Yes, Madara?”

Oh, gods that voice. Deep, and smooth, laced with the delicious inflections that make Madara's insides tingle... what he wouldn’t give to hear it tremble upon a moan.

“Uh.” Madara blinks, yanking himself back to reality. Tobirama is still staring at him with a raised eyebrow and what looks to be an inkling of amusement in his eyes. “I was going to say.” He clears his throat as his voice cracks a little. Fuck. Fuck, fuck. “You look exceptionally hot today,” he blurts out, giving himself another extra strong mental kick for such a foolish slip of the tongue.

Handsome. All he had to say, per Izuna’s careful, repeated instructions, was fucking handsome. Before he can correct himself, though, Tobirama says,

“Hot? Madara, you remember that my body temperature is much lower than is normal and I’m really sensitive to cold, right? It may seem hot to you outside but I’m freezing.”

Ah. He didn’t even get it. Madara sighs with an exasperated roll of his eyes. Calmly continue, he decides, no need to worry in the face of such inexperience.

“I meant,” Madara goes on, punctuating his works with a blatant leer and a smirk, “appealing. Easy on the eye. Handsome, one might say.”

He stops himself before he can overdo it, relishing the sharp intake of breath, the shock flashing briefly in Tobirama’s eyes.

“You mean,” Tobirama says, schooling his expression into casual curiosity, “you might say?”

Madara chuckles. “Why, yes. I’ve been thinking it for quite a while now, in fact, and thought it unproductive to keep this from you any longer.”

“Unproductive to what?” Tobirama asks, and even sans the Sharingan, Madara sees a hint of blush blooming on his pale, sculpted cheeks.

Beautiful.

“Unproductive to beautiful?”

Madara’s hands jerk of their own accord, knocking down half of the stacks of paper already placed dangerously on the edge of his desk. And Izuna warned him, too, to keep control of his limbs, but how is Madara supposed to do that with Tobirama smiling at him like that?!

“I-I didn’t mean to say that,” Madara rushes through his words, “I mean, out loud, I did meanーyou areーbut...” Overdoing it, alarm bells ring in his head. Giving up, he slams his hands on his desk as he stands up and glares at the grinning fool. “Fuck you, Senju! We’re going on a date! Tonight. Any place of your choice. With me,” he clarifies just to be safe, “andーif you want, that is! Yes.” In a desperate bid to fix the disastrous tirade at least a little bit, he says, more of a whisper this time, “I mean. Yes? Or...”

Tobirama laughs.

The utter bastard.

It’s a wonderful melodic sound Madara so rarely hears from him, cherishes each and every time his jokes land just right to gauge at least a chuckle from the man, but the fact that Tobirama is now laughing at him only makes anger boil at the pit of his stomach.

“What the fuck, Senju,” he growls.

“What you’re asking,” Tobirama drawls in a maddeningly playful manner, “is whether I'll consider accompanying you for a pleasant dinner tonight, just the two of us?”

That godsdamned look. Eyes narrowed suggestively as they glide over Madara’s body before locking with his eyes. The grin Madara now realizes is far from just that, watching, mesmerized, as Tobirama’s tongue slips out to wet his lips in a downright debauched manner.

Oh, gods. This man is going to be the death of him. And thinking back now to the time he distinctly remembers both Tobirama and Izuna supervising Hashirama’s questionable attempts to woo the Princess of Uzushio, Tobirama had to have gotten the meaning of Madara’s first flirting attempt.

Madara has just been played. And he’s enjoying it, too, the masochist he apparently is.

“Yes,” he grinds through his teeth, hoping the gravity of his glare impresses upon Tobirama just how pissed he is and pleading Amaterasu that it’s not a blush warming his cheeks as he seethes. “So, Senju? Don’t try my patience.”

Another chuckle escapes that infuriating, kissable mouth.

“You are ridiculous,” Tobirama says, the absolute bastard, “and nowhere near eloquent. But I must say I’m intrigued. If only because you’re...” He gives Madara another once-over, seemingly searching for the right term. “Cute.”

“W-whaーwho are you calling cute!” Madara shrieks despite himself, springing over his desk and stalking up to Tobirama to jam a finger into his chestーdistractingly prominent underneath the tight shirt he’s wearing. “Don’t you dare call me that to my face if you don’t wish to die.”

“Why, I was hoping you’d give me at least one little death today,” Tobirama purrs.

Andーwell. Whatever Madara was planning to yell next flies completely over his head, and damn his brain for shutting off completely in favor of imagining those lips stretched not in a grin but around Madara’sー

“But I suppose we really shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves,” Tobirama says, covering Madara’s hand with his and lowering it gently. “I’m intrigued but...” He scowls. “I really should be asking Anija’s permission first.”

That brings Madara back to reality. “Permission? From Hashirama?” Madara frowns. “What are you, twelve? Why do you need the loghead’s permission for things concerning your personal life?”

Tobirama rolls his eyes. “Anija is... protective. Overprotective,” he corrects himself, before sighing heavily. A crazy urge compels Madara to squeeze his hand in reassurance before Tobirama can let him go. “Really fucking overbearing. I hate it. But we’ll all be better off if we get his consent first. He might ground me.”

“Ground you?” It doesn’t make any sense. The most efficient warrior Madara knows, seen as the White Demon by clueless fools and as the incredible genius he is by those who know him, a shinobi capable of standing up to the idiot their kind considers God being grounded by said decidedly ungodlike idiot is... mind-boggling, to say the least.

“He’s my Anija,” Tobirama says, long-suffering, as if that explains everything. Madara keeps staring. Tobirama sighs again, his thumb rubbing circles onto Madara’s wrist as he collects his thoughts before speaking again. “I allow it, really. He hasn’t been the same since Kawarama and Itama died, and there’s this anxiety and fear he has of me being in danger or taken advantage of by others. He’s never unreasonable, though, and you’re his best friend. I’m sure he’ll be lenient.”

Madara makes a face. “Perhaps.” The important thing, he thinks, is to avoid letting on exactly what he’d like to do to Hashirama’s younger brother. Madara is sure he wouldn’t be so ‘lenient’ if he knew. “It’s still strange.”

“Tell me about,” Tobirama groans, a helpless look in his eyes, “I even have a curfew.”

“What if,” Madara asks, “we’re back before the curfew?”

Tobirama glances at the watch. “We have three hours,” he says, tentative, “and we have to be impeccably cautious unless you want the Mokuton up your ass.”

“Literally?”

“Literally.”

“We are great shinobi precisely because we can be careful, Tobirama,” Madara says, lifting their still interlocked hands to give Tobirama’s a gentle kiss. “So I say let’s give it a try.”

Tobirama fixes him with a thoughtful, conflicted gaze for but a moment, yet even that seems too long, with Madara’s heart still racing from the brief conversation they’ve had, anticipating an actual fucking date with the manーthe geniusーhe couldn’t help but fall for, if only Tobirama saysー

“Yes.” Tobirama’s smile is a dazzling thing. “Let’s.”

One minute stretches past Tobirama’s curfew, and Hashirama is ready to crawl out of his skin. Not having his brother near him for their evening tea and easy conversation before bed is... a struggle. It's been a tradition of theirs for as long as he could remember, save for the evenings of battle, and Hashirama cherished each moment he spent with his little brother, the unambiguous reminder that he was alive, safe, and right there.

(Not like the two bodies, bloodied and broken and far too little, resting too small graves in a forgotten compound littered with the countless sacrifices of a meaningless war.)

Of course, he realizes that will soon be spending most of his evenings with Mito instead, that Tobirama had long been planning his move out of their shared home to give them privacy. And however much he’s enamored with his future wife, Hashirama can scarcely imagine not being near his brother at least half of any given day, the insidious fear of peacetime shattering and devolving into another bout of bloodshed ceaselessly clawing at his mind. 

It's fine, Anija, Tobirama would placate him were he here, as he always is, to listen to Hashirama's worries. I can take care of myself. You know this.

The clock ticks on, merciless, and soon enough it’s two minutes of Tobirama being lateーwhich he never is unless he’s in serious troubleーso, without further ado, Hashirama springs to his feet and runs out of the house. Channeling his chakra into the wood and plants around him is second nature by now, and he commands them to search the village and beyond for his Otouto, to immediately incapacitate any threat that might be endangering him. He follows their lead, little by little deciphering their vague, pulse-like 'speech’ which is more visual than resembling an audial message. Only the oldest trees, which have had time and put effort into studying humans around them, are able to communicate in the more normal sense of the term.

Luckily, Hashirama stumbles upon one of those soon enough.

Hello there, Kotomi, he greets the ancient willow tree stationed by the Administration Tower like the guard it is, unbeknownst to most people.

Looking for your Otouto? Kotomi asks, an inexplicable hint of derision in their tone.

Yes! Hashirama says, frantic. I think he’s in trouble. Do you know where he’s gone? He should have been back by now.

Don’t worry so much. He’s with the flailing firestarter. Having fun.

Madara? Hashirama frowns. The trees have taken to calling all the Uchiha firestarters and only ever use the word flailing to describe Madara, whose agitation and screaming seems to annoy them more often than not. Why would Tobirama break curfew for Madara? And are you sure it’s fun they’re having and not a fight?

Oh, they’re fighting all right, Kotomi actually tries imitating a giggle, which confuses Hashirama further, about who’s going to end up on top, apparently.

As the reality of the situation dawns on Hashirama, he can feel a different type of devastating horror overtaking him, as he realizes it’s not exactly Tobirama’s life he must fear for, but his innocence.

And to think his best friend would betray him this way. Hashirama clenches his fists, letting unbridled wrath wash over him in waves as he follows Kotomi’s direction towards Madara’s house.

Best friend or no, he will have to answer for his crimes.

Tobirama should have known they wouldn’t be able to make it in time for curfew. But, trapped now against the wall with his legs wrapped around Madara’s waist as he’s being kissed senseless, Tobirama finds he’s long since stopped caring.

Because they’ve been at this for an hour. A long, agonizing hour they intended, in all seriousness, to spend over tea at Madara’s place before Tobirama went back home but spectacularly failed to keep their hands to themselves. It should have been obvious, really; the closeness, their spirits high from a dinner date that went perfectly, the palpable desire in their chakra they could both sense and relished in how their signatures resonated. Fueled by just a touch of alcohol in place of the tea, then by a far-too-passionate kiss goodbye and just enough groping to warrant a continuation in the bedroom.

Madara’s bedroom. Which feels unreal, and even more so when Madara didn’t even manage to carry Tobirama all the way over to the bed, instead pinning him against the wall and trading shallow, intermittent kisses for a much more thorough exploration of Tobirama’s mouth, tongue hot, and demanding, and steadily driving Tobirama insane with want.

Tobirama moans, despite his efforts to keep quiet, too overwhelmed and craving to get Madara’s hands on him. Not like they are now, feeling him up through his clothes, but flush against his skin, sliding over his cock, moving inside him like he’s fantasized about far too oftenー

“Fuck,” Madara groans against his lips as they part for breath, just for a moment before leaning in for another messy, bruising kiss.

“Me, please,” Tobirama pants, pulling away this time to urge Madara towards their destination. “Bed.”

The ease with which Madara hauls him towards the futon only turns Tobirama on further, and he can’t help the keens and whimpers that escape as Madara claws his shirt off. His hands are finally on Tobirama’s chest, grazing his nipples, fingers digging into his sides as his chakra flares, hot and crackling, surging with lust and melding with Tobirama’s own as their cocks press together through too thick clothing.

“You haven’t actually done this before, have you?” Madara asks, voice lower than usual and strained as he speaks, pinning Tobirama with a gaze dark with unbridled desire.

Tobirama groans. “Was it that obvious?”

“You kiss well for a first time,” Madara says, grinning as he leans down to press his lips to Tobirama’s neck, “but I’m a sensor too, you know. You’d do well to calm down a bit.”

“I’m notーno, that’s not it,” Tobirama says, averting his eyes. As if he hasn’t lost count of how many times he’s touched, fingered himself, fucked himself with painfully insufficient toys with Madara’s name on his lips. And yet there’s treacherous embarrassment spiking up, fear creeping in that he’ll simply disappoint. “I am worried I’ll do something wrong.”

“Don’t be,” Madara whispers against his ear, kisses traveling down to his jaw and to his lips. “The only thing that can upset me is you not enjoying this.”

“I am,” Tobirama breathes, a shudder running through his body as Madara moves back to his neck, sucking bruises onto sensitive skin, making the pleasure all the more overwhelming.

“Good. But I’d like to do this right,” Madara says firmly, so unlike his usual blustering self, “and take things slow if you want. How about we keep things here for now?”

Tobirama amplifies the spike of annoyance in his chakra, lashing out with it enough to catch Madara off guard and flip them around.

“How about no?” he says, tugging Madara’s own overshirt off, relishing the thick, rippling muscles revealed for him to explore. “At least teach me how to suck you off. I’m a fast learner.”

“Fuck.” Madara squeezes his eyes shut, and Tobirama could swear he feels his cock twitch against his, though that may have just been his imagination. “You can’t just say things like that, Tobirama!”

“I can and I will.” Tobirama smirks, content to know he’s snared his target as Madara lets out a strangled moan when Tobirama palms him through his pants. “And do them, too, if you’ll let me.”

So contrary to his usual explosive nature, Madara seems conflicted, hesitant, even as Tobirama definitely feels his cock twitch this time.

This won’t do.

His own heart racing, throat dry and blood running hot, Tobirama leans in to mouth at his neck in an imitation of what Madara did to him before, just to test how sensitive he is.

The sound it earns him is divine. As is the way Madara’s grips his waist, pulling him closer, tangling a hand in Tobirama’s hair, tugging slightly as he trails a path of open-mouthed kisses to Madara’s chest.

“Tobirama...”

He keeps eye contact all the while, watching Madara bite his lip, trying and failing to hold in another groan, struggle to keep his eyes open, flickering between dark and red as his chakra flares hot like the fires of his jutsu. Beautiful, Tobirama thinks. So hot, panting and shivering under him, when all Tobirama is doing is lapping at his nipple, sucking it into his mouth, teeth just shy of grazing it. Then again, the taste of Madara’s skin, the closeness, the delicious feel of his chakra and the sounds he coaxes from the man are intoxicating, and Tobirama soon finds himself thrusting lightly against Madara’s thigh, hands wandering lower to touch him through his pants, finding him hard and already leaking through the fabric, andー

Another flare of pleasure, echoed by Tobirama’s own signature. He squeezes his eyes shut, overwhelmed, heat pooling in the base of his stomach as his cock aches for someーanyーkind of stimulation.

All right, maybe he’s a little overenthusiastic.

That isn’t any reason to stop, obviously.

Yet Madara’s sudden laugh, dark and low and feral for lack of any better word to describe it, gives Tobirama pause.

He moans, despite himself, as Madara’s grip on his hair tightens and he draws him up and away from his treat, and opens his eyes to the sight of a purely animalistic look on Madara’s face. Flushed, and panting, and still squirming under Tobirama’s hands, there’s no prior hesitation in his gaze, only pure, unbridled need.

Tobirama swallows heavily.

(Gods forbid Madara catches Tobirama actually drooling over him. What he does and doesn’t do behind closed doors is irrelevant; what Madara sees shouldn’t be as humiliating.)

"Teach you to suck me off, huh,” Madara says, voice closer to a growl as he cards his fingers through Tobirama’s hair, his other hand reaching down to still Tobirama’s that’s still palming his cock and guide him to a more languid rhythm. “You are infuriatingly eager.”

“And you,” Tobirama pants, “are infuriatingly slow. Honestly, I thought you’d be more efficient.”

It probably isn’t that convincing, what with Tobirama breaking into a gasp as Madara flares his chakra far, far stronger than he has up to this point, firewantlustsearing sensations prickling through Tobirama’s whole body, eliciting a whimper he’d be ashamed of if he had the capacity to be so, as his mind seems to self-destruct for a blinding flash of a moment.

Tobirama comes to slowly, thoughts still foggy, to the feel of Madara dragging his head towardsーoh. His cock, hard and slick with precome, bigger than Tobirama had expected even as he’d felt the girth through the fabric before.

“Whaー” Tobirama asks, because he’s certain Madara is saying something, if only the ringing in his ears would let him process it.

“I said get to work if you want it so much,” Madara command, the gaze blazing red now, tomoe spinning, recording this into memory which makes Tobirama all but preen under the scrutinyーand in the face of Madara’s devastating grin. “Go on. I’ll guide you through it.”

Tobirama lets out a shaky breath, ignoring his own cock pulsing, trapped painfully by the far-too-tight pants he’s taken to wearing to provoke more of Madara’s unsubtle ogling. Leaning down, he has time enough only to wrap his lips around the head of Madara’s cock, mouth stretching around hot, slick skin, the heady taste of precome on his tongueー

ーbefore the window crashes open and Tobirama’s mind flashes back to all the times he’d had to witness his Anija and Madara shout each other’s names stupidly across the battlefield.

“MADARA!”

Tobirama releases Madara with a not-quite decent pop which prompts Hashirama’s dramatic gasp.

“WH-WHY-HOーWOULD YOU FUCKING EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING WITH MY LITTLE BROTHER?!”

“What the fuck am Iーit’s none of your godsdamned business!” Madara scrambles to shove himself back in his pants. Tobirama almost wishes he wouldn’t; maybe continuing with the blowjob out of spite would have scandalized Anija enough for him to run off. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

“Will not! Why are you keeping Tobirama past his curfew?”

“Why does a full-fledged adult need a curfew, you worthless fucking tree stump?”

“So he’s not exposed to people who are intent on defiling him,” Hashirama says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “like you, apparently! Madara, I expected better from my best friend.”

“And I didn’t expect you to be a fucking control freak,” Madara shouts. “You don’t see me stalking and cockblocking Izuna, do you?”

“Well, no, but that only means I’m more diligent in looking out for my Otouto,” Hashirama huffs.

“What the hell are you implying?” Madara growls, chakra crackling like it does every time before he throws a punch or sets a fire.

Tobirama sighs, giving up his attempt at meditation from where he’s settled cross-legged next to Madara’s flailing form.

“Anija,” he intervenes, “may I remind you...”

“Tobi.” Hashirama turns towards him, an almost pitying look in his eyes. “Please don’t believe whatever lies Madara spouted at youーejaculate is not a healthy bedtime snack!”

Oh, gods. Not the healthy bedtime snacks again.

“What the fuckー” Madara looks about ready to implode now, and Tobirama places a hopefully comforting hand on his shoulder.

“To be fair, he is right,” Tobirama concedes, resisting the urge to simply Hiraishin out of the situation and leave the two idiots to deal with it themselves. But that would disprove his following point. “But I must once again remind you, Anija, that I am a grown-up. I have been killing people since I was four, and I improved the efficiency of our clan’s entire taxing policy when I was twelve. A possibleー” one-night stand, dalliance, arrangement, “ーrelationship is nothing I can’t handle.”

Tobirama hates how his heart skips a beat as he glances to see Madara’s reaction, only to find him still staring at Hashirama, a mesh of confusion and anger battling in his chakra as he alternates between confused whispers of “what the fuck” and “bedtime snacks.”

“Butーbut I had a glass of milk and your favorite cookies ready and you weren’t there,” Hashirama whines, lip quivering as his face crumpling in a way that only ever leads to tears.

“Anija, I will be there next time,” Tobirama says firmly, “I promise. But tonight, I’d like to spend with Madara.” He gives his brother a look that hopefully conveys get the fuck out of here, Anija enough for Hashirama to understand.

But of course not.

“So, what,” Hashirama says, throwing his hands up, “you’re now going to spend all your time with Madara and completely forget about me?”

Tobirama sighs. “No. All I wanted was a date, Anija.”

“A date which ends with him stealing your innocence?!”

Tobirama closes his eyes and counts to ten as he replies, “If I say no, will you believe me?” He was tempted to say, Yes, and I’ll enjoy every fucking moment of it, but decided against it, if only to keep Madara’s barely coherent stuttering and wheezing from turning into a full-fledged seizure.

“Yes! If you come back home for bedtime snacks after a perfectly serviceable date, I’m sure,” Hashirama says, classic puppy dog eyes in full swing, “because Madara, if you’re courting my brother, you have to take it slow and woo him properly!”

Madara’s reply to that is a low, threatening growl now that he’s shaken himself out of the shock. Just in case, Tobirama tightens the grip on his shoulder. It wouldn’t do for Konoha to be destroyed by these two after the recent anniversary of its founding.

“Anija,” Tobirama says as calmly as he is able (which is, admittedly, bordering on furious), "since I consider it preferable that ‘wooing’ me ‘properly’ includes at least one fucking blowjob this evening, stop spying on me, leave us be and I will talk to you tomorrow.”

“Waitー”

Completely ignoring his Anija’s hysterical flailing, Tobirama tugs on one of the Hiraishin markers in his bedroom, and the next second he and Madara land in a heap of tangled limbs on his futon, well withinー

“...the professional Anija-repellent traps I’ve developed over the years,” Tobirama explains while Madara struggles to get his bearings, “so we shouldn’t be disturbed anymore. IーI’m sorry about that.”

“What the fuck,” Madara seethes, eyes still wide and hair sticking out from his insistent pulling on it during Anija’s tirade, “even was that?”

Tobirama sighs, rolls his eyes, and decides to answer with a kiss, hard, wet and sloppy, hopefully distracting enough to keep Madara’s mind away from pesky cockblocking idiots who will be wise to stay away if they value their wellbeing. And blessedly, Madara kisses him back after but a moment of stillness, the wild mess of confusion and irritation that is his chakra mellowing, gradually, into the familiar simmer of heat, scorching, electrifying, melding with Tobirama’s desire in turn.

“How about,” he suggests amid short-lived open-mouthed kisses, unfastening Madara’s breeches somewhat clumsily in his urgency, “we focus on more... pressing matters, shall we?”

Madara lets out a surprised laugh, gaze never leaving Tobirama as he forges a wet trail with his lips down Madara’s chest. “Still so eager to, uh, part with your innocence, I see,” he tries for a joke which breaks off into a harsh breath as Tobirama sinks down to lick at the head of his half-hard cock, stifling a moan at the feel of it twitching against his lips.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs with a self-satisfied smirk before focusing entirely on the very hard, very mouthwatering task at hand.