#it’s so funny they massage my brain and smooth out all the cracks in it :)

[niightfiend]

More of my FNV Courier Pickles and Arcade <3

[taechaos]

Web of Lies

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying.

warnings: angst, panic attack, dry humping, the TINIEST bit of fluff

word count: 4.3k

Obstacles are inevitable in relationships; there’s always something that must go wrong. They can come in the form of arguments, disagreements, actions, or people like Taehyung. One physical obstacle that always knows when Jungkook is with you.

A few days after the fight between the two close friends, Taehyung’s nose somewhat healed and Jungkook doesn’t shy away from you as frequently. What’s the point when the people he tried to hide you from found out about his relationship with you anyway? The only reason he doesn’t approach you every time he sees you is because: 1. He doesn’t enjoy being clingy; that would mean he likes being around you all the time which he refuses to admit. 2. You would probably get tired of him and stop loving him. 3. He kissed your friend who always sits next to you outside.

Now that he’s taking most of his opportunities to talk to you, and maybe kiss you, Taehyung is growing restless. Every time Jungkook is with you, so is Taehyung. Some. Fucking. How.

To name one of the busts: when Jungkook was kissing you in the university’s hallway two days ago, Taehyung popped in out of nowhere and shouted, “Get a room, you sluts!” It made for a good laugh between the students, especially when Jungkook ran after him out of the building. 

Another time is when Jungkook was watching you work in the yard and Taehyung joined you two to ask about that “one hot friend of yours”. You ended up telling him about Soyeon and Minnie while Jungkook glared at Taehyung that conveyed a clear message: Don’t. So, he didn’t. It didn’t have anything to do with getting elbowed when you weren’t looking.

It was because that would ruin the fun, and he has a sense of purpose while roaming the entire campus to make his fourth bust of the week. He’s searched the hot and empty spots, but he just can’t find the passionate couple anywhere. If he can’t keep disrupting their displays of affection, how will Jungkook get annoyed enough to spill the truth to you? You deserve that much, and if you still accept him, then Taehyung’s out of the picture.

Why can’t Jungkook see that?

For starters, one of the reasons is Jungkook is distracted and growing very irritated by the heavy stare he feels digging into his skin. Who the fuck is watching him? He thought it would be nice to keep you company in the main campus library by controlling your hand under the table over his clothed erection while you skim through your textbook for a light revision, but a pair of eyes behind a bookshelf won’t stop glaring into his soul through thick frames that he can’t see. 

He blows out a breath and screws his eyes shut. His jaw clenches and you immediately catch on, worriedly asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s fucking watching me and I can’t get off,” he grits. Your cheeks heat and grow crimson when you glance down at your occupied hand, palmed by his bigger one in a tight grip. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “we can go to my dorm, if you’d like? Whatever you want.” In an act of comfort, you stupidly start caressing his length until he stands up. 

“Gotta confront the fucker.” 

Right when he raises his foot to take a step in the direction that his senses lead him to, Taehyung joins in on the mission. “Who are we confronting?” he asks casually with an arm over Soyeon’s shoulder, who is trying to suppress a grimace at the intervention. Jungkook glances at him and then your friend before sucking his teeth and rolling his eyes.

You grin brightly at the greeting and explain, “Someone's watching him. He’s going to find the stalker.”

“Might’ve been me, oops,” Taehyung raises his brows guiltily before slumping on a wooden chair adjacent to you, looking around the spacious area that makes him feel too loud. When he notices Soyeon still standing, he tells her, “come, sit,” and pats the seat next to him. She does so timidly. “Isn’t it so wonderful—”

“Why are you here?” Jungkook interrupts, but Taehyung continues, “—that we’re forming a friend group of our own? We’re all so familiar with each other.”

“Oh, Soyeon hasn’t met Jungkook yet.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you with a scrunch of his nose. “Sure about that?” Jungkook strides behind his chair and starts massaging his shoulders; a very harsh massage that has him holding back a wince. “Oh, Kook, that’s a bit rough. Tell me, is he like this in bed too?”

You gape at him in surprise, bashful because your lover doesn’t kiss and tell, and he doesn’t look too happy about it either.

“Tae…” Jungkook snarls.

“Well, is he, Soyeon?”

The library’s silence graces your table as everyone falls quiet, if you don’t count Taehyung’s groans at Jungkook’s bruising hold that is. Soyeon’s jaw drops and her eyes widen at the sudden switch in your gaze, searching for answers from her. “That’s not funny, Taehyung,” she breaks the silence with her blunt statement.

“Don’t mind him, baby, he has brain damage,” Jungkook spits and brings a hand up to Taehyung’s hair to yank it back. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he whispers in his ear.

Your features begin to soften from its hard expression until Taehyung smiles wickedly at you. “Oh yeah, it wasn’t sex, was it? It was a tongue battle-” His voice cuts off the moment Jungkook starts choking him with his elbow, and his gags fall on deaf ears. Soyeon tries to push him off, but you’re just blank because Jungkook isn’t denying it; it was as if he was expecting it, trying to stop him all along. 

The sudden interest in your friend, the constant interruptions, the hits…

“Soyeon?” you call quietly with welling up tears. “Did you kiss him?”

Your best friend doesn’t lie, and apparently neither does Taehyung. Does Jungkook lie? You’re conflicted between living in bliss, ignoring the dying man in front of you because your boyfriend might have kissed Soyeon, and facing reality by asking the hard questions.

Her hands are still tugging on his shirt to save Taehyung, but her persistence weakens when she looks at you: guilty and… exposed? “I didn’t know it was him,” she confesses. It is indirect, and doesn’t reveal much except that she kissed the one man she wasn’t supposed to. 

“When?”

“The party,” Taehyung wheezes as he struggles against Jungkook’s arm, his nails drawing blood on his skin. His face is red from the lack of oxygen but he isn’t worried about dying.

“Oh, he put you up to this, didn’t he?” Jungkook speaks through clenched teeth to Soyeon. “They’re setting me up, and who the fuck is watching me?!” 

You stand up slowly and close your textbook with a soft thud, packing your materials so graciously. Your hands are shaking, but the tears blurring your vision don’t matter to you. Soyeon is honest, Taehyung is using his last breaths to tell you the truth, and Jungkook is lying. You sling your bag over your shoulder and trudge to the exit, counting your steps to calm down. You ignore Jungkook asking you where you’re going, Taehyung gasping for breath, and Soyeon telling him to leave you alone. It’s all muffled and you’re too sad to care.

It’s a case of he said she said, but your heart is siding with your friends with how painfully it pounds against your chest. Your trust in Jungkook couldn’t have been that fragile, could it? Why did it break with one sentence? 

Heavy footfalls follow you beyond the exit, but you’re too distracted by trying to move your legs steadily to notice. It isn’t important enough to distract you from someone calling your name though, or the light weight of a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hm?” you say without looking up, frozen in your steps.

“A-Are you okay?” A smooth voice asks.

“I’m a bit sad,” your voice cracks and wavers from holding back a meltdown, “hurt.” You want to recognize the blurred image of the man standing next to you, so you blink and a tear sheds from each eye. “I told you to never talk to me again, Jimin.” You feel overwhelmed, and yet the memory of the blackmail has little impact on your mess of emotions, but it doesn't help you feel better either.

“Sorry,” he breathes, “I still don’t understand why, but you can do the talking for me. Wh-what happened?”

“Why do you ask? So you can use that against me too?” you scoff through the lump in your throat. Confusion washes his soft features, so you add, “maybe another handjob for it?” You shrug off his hand and continue your walk of shame. 

“I-I’ve never used anything against you, what are you talking about?” He’s chasing after you and it’s a bit of help in swaying your thoughts in a different direction, and your emotions towards anger and disbelief instead.

“Does a video ring a bell? The one you threatened to leak if I didn’t touch your…” You groan to yourself and quicken your pace towards your dorm. Maybe you could mope comfortably in there without the annoying presence of an arch enemy, who is feeding you more lies than you’re capable of consuming in one day. 

“What? I never— Listen, I deleted that video the second I received it. Whoever told you that was lying, please!”

It seems that everything you know boils down to Jungkook lying. His love was a lie too, apparently. Maybe the Jungkook you know is just one big fat lie who can’t seem to tell you the truth in any moment you’ve been with him. How many times do you need to hear from others and yourself that Jungkook is lying?

“I know,” you whimper and run off.

Once Taehyung catches his breath after coughing for a minute straight with a fresh bruise blossoming on his neck, he interrupts the hushed argument between Jungkook and Soyeon by asking, “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know, but you’re going straight to hell once I fucking kill you for good,” Jungkook fumes with flushed cheeks. 

“If you die by murder, you go straight to Heaven. How do you not know this?” His voice is low from the assault and his throat aches, but he still attempts to lighten the mood. 

“I swear to fucking God, Taehyung—” Jungkook stops his threat when he sees Soyeon sneakily walking away. “Where the fuck are you going?”

“Air,” Soyeon vaguely answers.

“Bullshit.” Jungkook tries to go after her, wanting to be the first to find your dorm so she doesn't say more about that night, but Taehyung holds onto his wrist to stop him. 

“She needs time—”

“Fuck off.”

When Jungkook begins to walk off after yanking off his hand, Taehyung immediately searches around the room and takes out a pen from a cup on the reception desk before jumping Jungkook from behind just as he was about to leave. They struggle against each other and start rolling around, but Taehyung is driven by adrenaline as he grounds himself on top of him. He holds him down with his legs and uncaps the pen to start writing on his forehead.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Everyone in the library peeks at the commotion due to Jungkook’s loud yell, but neither of them pay mind as he tries to move away from the pen.

“See if she takes you seriously with dick written on your forehead,” Taehyung chuckles before sprinting off with him hot on his tail. Jungkook is stronger, but Taehyung is much faster as he loses him pretty quickly by hiding in an occupied lecture hall. The professor looks at him questioningly but he thinks fast and breathlessly asks the students, “Is Jeon Jungkook here? The headmaster is looking for him.” Some people search for him, but when no one makes a peep, he escapes the room and Jungkook’s wrath.

Now to go to your dorm before Jungkook scrubs off the ink…

“I didn’t know his name,” Soyeon murmurs while fidgeting with her fingers. When she came in the room, you were muffling your sobs with your pillow and all she saw was your jerking shoulders. She tried to comfort you, to hug you, but you weren’t exactly being friendly, and the setting is pretty much the same except she’s sitting on your bed while you still cry. “I asked people what he looked like, but it was just a description of every guy in the room. He wasn’t around for them to point at, and so I thought maybe he didn’t come. Then this guy kisses me on this couch, feels guilty about it, and tells me his name. I-I didn’t know it was Jungkook. He left for you anyway…”

Her attempt at consolation is fruitless because it only makes you cry harder. She rubs your back soothingly before standing up. “I’ll check up on you later. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You nod against your stained pillow. 

The moment she opens the door, Taehyung’s fist misses her head by an inch. “Oops,” he says before gently pushing her aside by her shoulder and entering. His eyes fall on your fetal position first thing and he pouts at you. “Aw, baby—”

“She doesn’t want to talk right now.”

“I’m good company,” he dismisses her with a flick of his wrist, “you can go.”

She rolls her eyes before shutting the door, and it’s only you and him now. Your hiccups fill the room as he sadly watches you, a quiet sigh leaving his mouth. “I tried to tell you. Well, I tried to get him to tell you.”

“Y-You said,” you snivel against the sheet, “th-that he was whipped for me.”

I said that to get you to open up. Even in his head it sounds cruel, so he rethinks his response with a grimace. “Jungkook told me he liked you.” Maybe shifting the blame wasn’t exactly much better, especially since he told him that after the claim, but you have enough on your plate.

“H-He told me he loved me,” you hiccup, releasing your death grip on the poor pillow. It’s a mask rather than a silencer now. Taehyung widens his eyes to himself and purses his lips. He takes Soyeon’s former seat and turns you on your back. His heart sinks a little when he sees your face: red nose, heavy lids, bloodshot eyes and quivering lips with messy hair. You look really pretty to him right now. “He lies so much. H-He even made me give Jimin a handjob.”

“Made you?” he repeats with his thumb drawing circular patterns on your collarbone. 

You nod. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to talk about it. It was horrible.”

His brows furrow at your tone. “That’s so fucked up... Man, you need to avoid him.”

“Jimin?”

“Jungkook. That’s too twisted, even for him. You’re an angel…” his palm reaches for your cheek and his thumb continues its soothing motions. “You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thank you,” you mouth and fresh tears brim as you try to swallow. It feels like you’re sick all over again, except there’s no misunderstanding to clear this time. He wipes a stray teardrop and smiles down at you; it’s a relaxing gesture. You close your eyes and hold onto his wrist, snuggling into his warm hand.

“I sound really cheesy, don’t I?” he chuckles. “Can’t lie, wish I had someone call me an angel after I caught my ex cheating on me.”

An involuntary giggle erupts from your mouth at his joke. “You’re an angel, Taehyung. An angel in disguise.” You peek at him before fluttering your eyes shut again. A pursed smile graces his lips, and he’s convinced he isn’t interested in you romantically, that it was just an invisible force drawing him closer to you, that he wasn’t the one aiming for your lips until a pound on the door resounds in the room.

You flinch away from his hand and he pulls back instantly; both of your heads shoot to the source of the noise. 

“Open up!” Jungkook yells and continues fisting the door. “Open the fucking door!” Taehyung holds a finger against his lips, signalling you to stay silent until he leaves. “I want to talk. Open the door… please.” Neither of you say anything.

“Fine,” he agrees, “don’t talk. I’ll talk, but at least give me a sign that you’re here.” Before Taehyung can stop you, you rush to the door and knock once. You hear him slide down the door, presumably leaning his back against it and sitting on the floor. “Okay. I’m sor— They were lying—” you slam your fist against the door in denial. “Okay! But they weren’t telling the whole truth back there. I was um… on drugs. I was really fucking high, okay?”

“Yet your high-self still managed to yell at me! Clearly you weren’t high out of your mind,” you snap menacingly. He flinches at your sudden shut-down; he’s never heard you yell at him before, nor has he ever been the victim of your anger. It makes his heart drop.

“That was like, three hours after I got high! I was practically sober, plus, you weren’t talking to me that day!”

“I had lost my voice! I didn’t want you to get sick—"

“I DIDN’T FUCKING KNOW THAT!” 

He gulps at your silence and inhales a deep breath to calm down. He hears you sniffle on the other side. “I-I didn’t know that. You wouldn’t kiss me, wouldn’t talk to me, and I didn’t know why. I thought you stopped loving me and… that really upset me.” He sighs to himself because he’s never opened up so honestly and it’s difficult, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice. It just feels so embarrassing.

Taehyung opens the window of your dorm and climbs out. You don’t see or hear it happen, too invested in your argument to even remember his existence. “Do you remember what I told you the night we did it for the first time?”

His face scrunches as he tries to replay the events beside the sex. The corner of his lip tugs upwards when he recalls you calling him a slut, but he’s still clueless as to why you’re bringing it up. You don’t leave him in the dark for long. “I told you I wouldn’t forgive you a second time.” He gnaws on his lip as his palms feel clammy with nervous sweat. 

“W-We weren’t dating then,” he tries to justify. “I didn’t need forgiveness then. You’re so unfair!” He stands up and knocks with his fist again. “Let’s talk it out face to face, I’ll explain everything. You’re putting me at a disadvantage! Don’t you want clarity? Don’t you want this to work out?!” He starts chanting your name when you don’t answer. “I will break down this fucking door if you don’t open it,” he doesn’t sound nearly as intimidating as he usually does when threatening; he sounds more like he’s a second away from breaking down himself. “No, no… please. I-I’ll kiss another girl if you break up with me! You don’t want that, right? So just open the door.” 

His tough façade crumbles the longer you ignore him, and he can’t believe the heavy weight he feels all over his body wants to leave in the form of tears. It stings in his eyes but he doesn’t dare let them fall. “You’re so fucking cruel!” He twists the door handle violently; desperately. A dry sob escapes him as he kicks the door one last time. “Oh God, oh God…” he tries to breathe but it doesn’t enter his lungs. It’s like being choked with a noose as he gasps and a tear runs down his cheek. His wheezes become so loud that you start hearing them and grow concerned.

You consider the possibility that it’s one of his tactics, trying to manipulate you, but you open the door anyway. It’s a slight crack and you barely get a look at him before he pushes it open completely and forces his way in. He sits on your bed and his shoulders hunch, breaths still shallow. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t like her, never did, I only— I was mad, and I couldn’t go through with it, and I’ve never shown you affection b-because I’ve only ever received it from you—” you hush his rambling with a hug, but he continues with his head against your stomach anyway, “I’ve never been in a relationship and I’m a fucking mess and I understand why you wouldn’t want to be with me, but please don’t leave me. I’ll do my homework, I’ll stop being mean, I won’t even talk if you don’t want me to, but please don’t stop talking to me.”

“Jungkook…” you trail in shock. “I’m here. Take a deep breath.” When he tries, it’s so shaky that it makes you tear up for the umpteenth time. You’re a mess with him. “In and out, love, in and out.” You would do it with him like an instructor, but it’s not possible when he’s squeezing your waist so tightly. It takes a few minutes for him to relax his grip and he looks up at you pitifully. “It’s okay,” you assure and pet his hair, “you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most,” he exhales. “I mean… I realized that night, that I only want to be with…”

“I get it,” you whisper to comfort him, knowing he has struggles with expressing himself, but he doesn’t stop. He wants to get it off his chest, and he quietly tells you, “I kissed another girl when I wanted to make you jealous, and then another to forget. I don’t want to do that, I mean I only want to kiss… you.”

You initiate it first by leaning down to peck his lips, and you don’t pull away too far. You peck him again, and then start kissing him. He’s never been this slow with you before, but the panic attack must have drained him. It’s the way that he doesn’t immediately turn it heated with the intent of taking it to the third base that warms your heart. He’s hesitant and taking his time, mindful of your reactions because you’re in control for once. You’re aware of how vulnerable he is being with you, and he conveys that with the gentle press of his lips. 

He whimpers into the kiss, and it’s so quiet and mournful that you lean back but he chases after you. He doesn’t want to stop like you’d assumed, so you place your knees on either side of him and hover over his thighs. Even his hands are hesitant as he lightly sits you down on his lap by pulling your waist. You smile against him and with his submission, you swipe your tongue across his lip. He opens for you. You roll your tongue around his, and he eventually begins to suck on yours. There’s a pit in your stomach that confuses you; is it arousal? Flattery? You feel so special because you know he hasn’t been like this with anyone else; so powerless and passive.

It’s passionate. You inch your body a little closer to him and he grunts when you brush against his crotch before settling down. This isn’t about sexual needs, and you don’t treat it as such but your body has a mind of its own with its constant shuffling that turns him on. He doesn’t want to feel that way, but his hips have a subtle way of thrusting beneath you. His hums rumble and you kiss him harder, losing all your senses except for the warmth of his skin. You don’t notice him controlling the movement of your hips because he’s taking it slow, and you don’t need to know why he’s quietly moaning into you.

At least no one’s watching him now. 

You pull back in surprise when he groans loudly, and you know he’s back to himself as his actions grow rough. You’re practically jumping when he grinds on you with his spit all over your mouth because of his explorative tongue. From past experience, you’ve figured out that Jungkook is more honest when he’s in the heat of the moment, so you inquire against his lips, “Why did you lie to me about Jimin?”

“That fucking freak,” he growls, “I needed a reason to get you to hate him. He didn’t stop you when it happened, did he?” 

Still manipulative. “Will you do the same with Taehyung?”

“No, I,” his thrusts slow down, “I’m gonna, err…” He looks at you for help.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and talk things out with him, right?”

“Right,” he breathes, “talk.” He slams his lips against yours again, and it’s not long before he sighs at his climax with your cooperation. There’s a small patch growing on his pants through his underwear, and he cusses when he notices it. He pecks you one last time before hugging you and laying on the bed, cuddling you like a blanket. “Do you forgive me?” 

You rest your head on his chest and feel his pulse to contemplate. He brings a hand up to your hair and starts running his fingers through it, unbothered by your lack of answer. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says. “Do you…” he clears his throat, “do you maybe want to have dinner with me?”

“Like a date?” you tease with a grin.

“Yes.”

“There’s my answer,” you lift your head to wink up at him. “But if you test me again, I’ll break your heart just as you did mine. Don’t worry though,” you whisper, “I’ll never leave you.”

[wornoutmouse]

OH MY IM SO FREAKIN LATE THIS IS MY FIRST TIME HAVING A DEADLINE. @ozarkthedog (really hope this is the right person)

Day one: Cum Play

As of recently, Tamaki has been acting,...aggressive. You don't blame him, you blame his company. Due to a secret mission off on the coast of Japan, he has been forcing himself to eat wolf hair.

"Babe, can you pass me the lemon pepper seasoning?" You say not looking up from the chicken you were massaging for tomorrow's barbeque. There was silence, "Babe-" you say looking up before feeling something hard and plastic hit you in the middle of the face. "O-Oh bunny! I'm s-s-so sorr-y!" Tamaki stuttered quickly coming to your side as you dropped to your knees in pain. You just closed your eyes and asked the Lord to give you strength. "I promised not to yell." you muttered to yourself.

"It's fine Tamaki." you jumped when Tamaki slammed his fist on the counter, making it crack. "I told you to call me Amajiki Y/N." You jerk your head up to look at your boyfriend. He has never raised his voice, much less said something with this much force unless he was dealing with a villain. You peek up at him, "Amajiki?"

Tamaki's face for once in his life was not red with constant embarrassment. Instead, he was calm and calculated as he looked down at you. You could tell he was breathing shallowly as his pupils dilated, and based on the whiteness of his knuckles, he was doing his best to not being aggressive.

You could feel the hostile energy filling the room by the second so, not wanted to stir any more altercations, you stood up and smiled, "To make it up to me, why don't you finish the seasoning and put it in the fridge to marinate?" You ask standing up, dusting imaginary dust off your legs to help calm your nerves

Before receiving an answer, you quickly turn around, and just as you step out of the kitchen you hear a low snarl from behind you, making you speed up.

When Tamaki is done your sitting on the couch watching TV and Tamaki slides onto the couch all the way at the end. You don't look but you can feel his eyes on you. "Are you scared Bunny?" he asks.

You quirk your eyebrow trying to feign ignorance to how your body was shaking. "Why would I be scared, this isn't a scary movie?" You look over at Tamaki to try and defuse whatever situation was rising, only to evolve into a coughing fit at the violent yellow glow Tamaki's eyes were emitting.

At this point you could see Tamaki's breathing was ragged, "T-Tamaki?" you asked, and at this point, you were stuttering like him. Tamaki shook with something indescribable, "I told you to call me Amajiki!" he growled and that snapped you out of your daze making you leap up startled ad you slowly walk backwards.

"Don't run from me, your only making it worse!" Tamaki said as he stood up looking more like a predator with prey with every step he took.

"The hell wrong with this nigga?" you think to yourself as you locked your shared bedroom door and slip under the bed. "Why the hell did we have to live at the top floor?!" you whisper to yourself wishing you could just jump out the window and head to Mirio's for the night.

You freeze when you hear the door jiggle and you sigh in relief when you realize it's the bathroom door on the other side of the wall. "Bunny.." Tamaki sighed almost sounding like a deranged moan. "He done lost his mind, I'm calling Mirio after this!" you think to yourself.

Tamaki get's to the bedroom door and jiggles the lock scoffing when he feels that it's locked. "That wasn't smart." he says before you hear a hard thump against the door making it click open. 'Did this man just use pressure to unlock the door?" you thought to yourself watching his feet through the thin sliver you could see from under the bed skirt. "He really gon kill me huh?' you thought hopelessly.

You shiver as you hear Tamaki maniacally giggle as he skims through the closet. Luckily for you, your closet was rather large and definitely a decent hiding place, so using his distraction you carefully scoot from under the bed and head towards the door that was thankfully left open. "Make me white and call me Becky." you thought to yourself instantly regretting your decision.

Just as you step out, you feel a hand roughly grab your side and another one come around your neck caressing your chin making sharp nails dig deep enough to draw blood. "Y/n!" Tamaki moaned in your ear before you felt a wet stripe being licked from your neck, up to your ear.

You were harshly pulled back into the room and tossed into the bed. "S-So what you're going to kill me? Cause I called you by your last name?!" you say in disbelieving. Tamaki blinked slowly at you as if looking through a mist. You could tell his brain was clouded by whatever was going on with him.

While a dark grin came over his face, you'd be a lie if you said it didn't slightly turn you on.

"Kill you? Why would I do that?" Tamaki asks crawling onto the bed in a stalking manner, making you scoot back only to have your ankle grabbed yanking you back towards him. "Oh no Y/n, I'm not going to kill you silly. I'm going to fuck you." you blink rapidly trying to catch up on what he just stated all the while Tamaki's eyes raked over your body as he literally begins to salivate.

"My bunny's skin is so smooth and brown like the earth." Tamaki purrs leaning down to press kisses to your legs, "I want you to feel me, I want you to feel my cum drip down your thighs." Tamaki's words slurred together as if high on your scent. "Or maybe I should make you drink it." he stops applying kisses and simply stares at you, tongue loling out his mouth ever so slightly.

"I'm going to defile you." he moans as he continues to travel up your leg to your center, making you throb as his warm breath ghosts over it. "Amaijiki where is this coming from?" you ask, unsure of what was actually happening or if you should let this behavior continue. "I'm so horny right now, I tried to tell you but you ran away!" he whined into your cunt making you tremble and latch onto his hair making him groan.

Tamaki pulls your damp underwear to the slide before licking a stripe up your entrance. "T-Tamaki!" you yelp. Tamaki raised his eyes and glared at you before lightly slapping your entrance making you jerk at the limited pleasure.

"What did I say about my name?" he said with a low whine. Your eyes widened, "The wolf hair!" you blurt out making Tamaki look at you funny. "It's March, wolves tend to mate between January and April." you explain squealing as Tamaki shoves his index finger all the way to the knuckle inside of you not paying attention to your discovery. You clear your throat, "That's why you are so adamant about your name, It's custom for the female to accept the males." you hum in thought, "Oh wait, that's birds."

You arch your back suddenly as Tamaki forcefully adds a second finger into your body. "You talk when your nervous Bunny." Tamaki whispered in your ears before taking your ear between his sharp teeth. "Don't be nervous, I'm going to make you feel so good."

Tamaki added a third finger, before bending back down to add his tongue into the mix pushing it deep inside of you, making your legs shake from the stimulation. You grip his hair and throw your head back. "I'm close." you stutter out. Tamaki pulls away and you groan as you watch him practically rip off his clothes

"Jesus.." you trail off as you gaze down at his painfully hard dick. "I'm so hard for you Bunny." he groans lazily jerking his cock placing a hand on your shoulder. "Lay upside-down." he says and you raise your eyebrow but comply. It's too late when you realize what was happening as you gaze up at your boyfriend positioning his dick at your mouth. "Tamaki wait-" you choke as Tamaki takes the liberty of shoving his member deep in your throat. You sputter around the girth but he doesn't falter, only giving you the mercy of not moving.

"Your so cute" Tamaki strokes your face before lightly tracing his fingers along your neck, pressing down on it slightly before covering his face in mock embarrassment. "I'm so deep in you Bunny!" unable to respond, you only focus on trying to breathe. Tamaki moves back and forth fucking your face andnot wasting any time on going slow.

"F-Fuck!" you start gagging but that only spurs him on to move faster. "I'm going to come on your face, can I do that please y/n? you'd like that so much huh Y/n?" Tamaki rambled delirious and drooling onto your chest as he grips the underside of your chin moving faster.

Tamaki suddenly pulls out and drags you to the ground, violently jerking off in front of your face. Before you can even say anything more you are forced to close your eyes as you feel his cum hit your face covering your lips. You reach a hand up to wipe it off but Tamaki grabs your hands with an animalistic growl, "Leave it." You feel yourself hoisted up and without any warning, you feel his dick go inside of you, still hard.

Standing up Tamaki bounces you up and down hitting your cervix and with your limited senses, your pleasure was doubled tenfold. Tamaki lays you down onto the edge of the bed and continued to drill into you.

"Fuck! I'm close!" you moan not sure what to grab onto. You gasp when you feel Tamaki's warm tongue swirling on your eyelids as he licks his cum off your face before kissing you making you cringe at the taste. Tamaki pulls out making you whine, 'No I was so close." Tamaki smirked licking his now extended fangs causing you to shiver with anticipation. "You tasted me, now I get to taste you"

Tamaki gets a firm grip on your legs and spread them before eating you out vigorously making you shiver before cum harder than you have in a while with a tearful cry. Tamaki cleans up your release until you're pushing him away from overstimulation and exhaustion.

It's nothing but heavy breathing for a while but you could tell that was ending as Tamaki's face went from pink due to overexertion to red from embarrassment. Knowing what to do, you open your arms and allowed him to hide his face into your neck. "D-Did I scare you?" he asked you chuckle, "No sweetie...I was terrified". Tamaki whined making you laugh as you two fell into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

[gojos-sidepiece-69]

Tokyo Tech Training- Chapter 5

The four of you first-years finally stumbled back to your dorms at the end of the day after an overdose of brain-rotting movies and binging food that would bring you one step closer to Type-2 Diabetes. You decided that a hot shower would help dissolve your stress from earlier, but that didn’t seem like nearly enough...a lightbulb flicked on over your head as you remembered that Tokyo Tech had a natural hot springs on location, and that sounded more than promising. You hadn’t used it yet, but you hoped it was empty; you signed in contentment at the thought of laying in hot water in the dark, unbothered: no thinking about anything, not even your literal deal with the devil. You could worry about that disaster tomorrow; today was enough of a shitshow in and of itself. It was 11:55 PM, so you quietly padded through the dorms so as not to wake anyone up.

You exited the building and strolled to the hot springs behind the building, taking in the cool night air. You inhaled slowly, and the scent of cherry blossoms filled you with tranquility.

In order to get to the hot springs, you had to pass through a small bamboo shed to rinse yourself clean and change into one of the clean bathing suits that were provided in the lockers. You shut the door to the shed behind you softly, and began stripping off your clothes. You kept your clothes out on the bench, much too tired to stow them away in a locker. The water droplets from the shower head felt cool and refreshing, and you walked over to the corner to pick up a swimsuit.

However, a small part of your brain told you that there was no way anyone would see you here; after all, it was dark and past the usual students’ bedtime on the weekdays. They were all such early risers. So you decided to forego a swimsuit and lay in the hot springs completely nude, because that would be the most relaxing. Who was going to judge you, anyways? People did this all the time. You grabbed a white towel to take with you for drying off after the soak, and headed out towards the spring.

You slipped into the hot water and sighed deeply, closing your eyes. You were in the moonlight surrounded by cherry blossom trees, beautiful black rocks, and the peaceful sound of water flowing. You leaned your head back against one rock and smiled, almost drifting off into sleep. The water felt like silk draped around you, and you were in it deep with only your head above the surface. “I didn’t peg you as the type to skinny dip at night, princess. But you keep proving me wrong,” said a familiar voice in a cocky, insolent tone. Your eyes flew open in fear, unfortunately landing on Gojo Satoru leaning back against a rock five feet away from you, head tilted upwards.

Your heart rate quickened with anger. This was supposed to be your night alone, head clear except for the sounds of running water. Your fool of a sensei was supposed to be 38 floors above you somewhere downtown, probably screwing another girl. Not sitting across from you, ruining your night. “What the hell are you doing here?” You said angrily, crossing your arms.

“Well, after a long day of exorcising high-grade unregistered curses all on my own, I thought I deserved a nice little dip in the spring. Funny, though, don’t people usually put something on before they jump right in?” He teased you and you instantly remembered how exposed you were to him. Even if it wasn’t anything he hadn’t already seen before, it still made you nervous. Why were you nervous? Nothing was going to happen. This was your night to unwind. You looked at him for a minute, trying not to stare. He had taken off his stupid black sunglasses and had his eyes closed, head still tilting up. He hadn’t opened them or looked at you yet, and you were just waiting for his eyes to pierce into yours. He looked like a sculpture, his strong arms resting on other rocks and his collarbones glistening with moisture. You scoffed at his comment. “Why are you here, exhibitionist?” He asked with a smile, and your face reddened at his comment.

“I’m not an exhibitionist. You think I care about getting your attention? I’m not that pathetic,” you jumbled out. “And if you must know, I’m here to relax after all the shit you’ve put me through in the past few days.” His smile deepened as he finally turned toward you and opened his beautiful eyes. You swallowed as he got up from his position and moved closer to you in the water. “Sweetheart, I haven’t put you through anything you didn’t want to do yourself. And I would argue that you do quite a lot to get my attention. Already forgetting about just yesterday, when you were jizzing all over yourself to the sight of me? You couldn’t keep your hands out of your pants.” Your chest started heaving as you forgot how to breathe.

He moved closer. “As for relaxing, I think I can help you with that.” He stopped about a foot away from you and your stomach flipped. “But I’m only going to help you if you ask me real nicely, like a good girl.” You silently cursed him for being such a stupid tease. Your brain was telling you to just get out of there before things escalated, to keep your ego and moral high ground intact, but those things were long gone. You hated yourself for thinking with your heat instead of your head. Damn it. You chewed on the inside of your lips, salivating at the sight of Gojo in the water. You could see droplets clinging to his chest, torso, and...v-line. His boxers were underwater, but he smirked when he caught you staring. “It’s not polite to stare,” he said intimidatingly, standing at full height, while you were still mostly underwater.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, and you almost folded under the weight of your lust. Seeing him touch another woman yesterday only made you ten times hungrier for him. You needed a taste or you would lose your mind.

You could only manage a weak, “Come here,” but that wasn’t enough for him. He tutted and shook his head. “I said, ask politely. Remember the magic words?” You wanted to strangle him. “Please, Gojo?” Your voice almost cracked with impatience. “Wrong! You’re forgetting already?” He laughed, crossing his arms. Your mind flashed back to your first night together, when he asked you for those “magic words” before he went down on you. Oh. “Please...come over here, Sensei,” you said quietly, and he flashed his white teeth. “Good. Was that so hard?” He closed the remaining distance between you and you could’ve sworn your heart was going to burst right out of your chest.

He bent over and wrapped his fingers around the backs of your thighs, lifting you up onto the edge of a large, smooth black rock. Water spilled down from your body, revealing it all to Gojo. His head was directly level with your chest, but he didn’t make any sign of moving it yet. “Gojo, come on, I already asked you nicely. What else do you want?” You whined quietly. “Nothing, I’m just admiring the view,” he smiled, rolling your eyes at his boyishness. He secured both of his large hands tightly around your waist to keep you from slipping off the rock, and started sucking at one of your breasts. He started with just moving his tongue over your nipple slowly, and then took the whole breast in his mouth. He moved his tongue in a way that was making your pulse quicken and your thighs slick.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him in closer. He pulled his mouth off of your breast, and you looked down at it and nearly moaned at the sight of it: wet from his mouth, and left with tiny purple spots to mark his territory.

He moved onto your other breast, his face completely shoved against it. You could feel him smile against your chest, tongue again swiping torturously slowly across your nipple. You started panting, and you felt embarrassed that he could feel your heart moving at a million miles per hour while he was somehow still completely calm and collected. You gripped roughly at his wet hair, and whispered to him, “Need...need more.” He looked up at your blushing face and quirked an eyebrow. “More? You should’ve just said so. Always remember, communication is key,” he said as he roughly parted your thighs. “Shut up, idiot,” you choked out after his stupid insertion of a “wise” life lesson. He kept your shaking legs open with a Vice-like grip, and dipped his head down. His breathed teased against your opening for a few seconds, until he finally gave into his need to taste you.

His tongue took a broad stroke up your heat, lapping at the juices. He moaned lightly and pulled his head back out to make eye contact with you. “You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. You’re just gonna sit nice and still for me while I taste you, okay?” You nodded, and he went back down. He talked into your pussy as he said, “So pretty and wet, just for me,” and you just about lost it. His hands massaged and rubbed at your inner thighs softly while his tongue ravaged your pussy. He stopped at times to suck and blow onto your clit, and you had to forcefully bite down onto one hand to keep from screaming out and waking up everyone in Tokyo. The other still gripped onto Gojo’s hair. You could only moan softly as your teacher got you wetter and closer to your destination.

You pushed your legs around him tighter, and he kept moaning softly as he picked up his pace. He pulled his head back to look up at the mess you were, and made direct eye contact while inserting one, then two, of his fingers. You let out a feral sound, and he laughed at the effect he had on you. His ego liked how easily he could make you lose your mind, begging for him desperately like he was the only man on earth. He never broke eye contact while he grinned and pumped his fingers in and out of you. Your release was threatening to fall over, but you seemed to have an issue finishing without him telling you to. “Pl-please,” you panted breathily, and Gojo laughed up at you again.

“Okay, okay, needy. That’s it, you did amazing for me. You can cum now,” as he bent down to place another heavy kiss on your clit. You moaned loudly into your mouth as you came onto his luscious lips, and he groaned slightly. He pulled you off of the rock and onto the ground, and your legs almost gave out. He licked the mess you made off of his lips before saying cheekily, “You liked that, huh. Just can’t keep away from me. You feel more relaxed now?” You couldn’t help but nod, head still spinning from your intense orgasm.

“I could tell,” he said. Before you could think about returning the favor, your white-haired man-whore turned around and walked right out of the hot springs. Your eyes trailed over his back muscles longingly as he entered back into the bamboo shed. He left you with a dull ache between your thighs and a heaving chest. You raked a hand through your wet hair and squeezed your eyes shut. And just like that, the rational thinking and whatever was left of your moral compass came flooding back in. God damn it, again?! So this was going to be a regular thing now? Being fuck-buddies with your ridiculously attractive teacher? This was so illegal...but then again, since when were any of the rules in this Jujutsu world unbreakable?

You sunk back down into the hot springs and sighed. The amount of shame that washed over you was significantly smaller, because as much as you hated to admit it...he really did help you unwind. And release some pent-up stress. Okay, a lot of pent-up stress. You leaned your head back against a smooth rock and decided on a short nap before taking on the challenge of walking up to your dorm because you weren’t sure you’d be able to walk straight.

After a fifteen-minute power nap, you heaved yourself up out of the water and wrapped the fluffy white towel around your body. You made your way into the shed again, sleepily searching for the bench with your clothes on it. You could’ve sworn you put it on that one over there...your eyes narrowed as you frantically searched all the lockers for your clothes. Where the fuck were they? You couldn’t just walk back through the school in a towel, you’d get in trouble for sure...and then it dawned on you. Bastard. Gojo, the biggest fool of them all, probably thought it was a funny idea to snatch your clothes, leaving you even more of a hot mess than you already were. You were threatening to boil over in anger, so you picked up your phone to call him immediately.

He picked up after one ring, “Want more already?” He said airily. You could tell he was driving away fast, back to his place. “Shut the fuck up and listen for once in your life. Did you take my clothes?” Your voice shook. He gasped. “Why would you accuse me of such a thing?! I would never. That being said, yes, I took them. I couldn’t help it, your little pink panties were just so cute,” he laughed.

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Get over here right now. I’m not walking back through the school in a towel,” you said sternly. “Not a chance, sweetheart,” Gojo sang. “You’ll have to come get them yourself if you want them.” That wasn’t about to happen. “Go fuck yourself,” you said, and before hanging up on him, he replied, “Oh, I will, darling.” You were so angry that you ran all the way back to your dorm, not caring about loudly your feet were stomping on the floorboards. You saw three sleepy, confused faces peep out at you from their rooms, but they dismissed seeing a large, white fluffy bird fly past them as a weird dream.

You slammed your door shut and threw your towel to the side, putting on some actual clothes. You put your hands up against the wall and breathed for a minute, trying to process your emotions. This boy was going to leave you in a wheelchair and in therapy. You were ripped from your animalistic rage when you heard your phone chime. It was a single picture from your sensei. Him dangling your lacy underwear from his long index finger. You felt a familiar blush rising to your cheeks, but shook it away as you threw your phone against the nearest wall.

🌹

[shorkbrian]

Ohhhh I also thought about what if, you were out with your friends then you meet DENKI at a bar. Then he be all cute & funny then he and the reader will hit it off. If you want it to be noncon, it can be a yandere where he already knows everything about her & uses makes it look like they’ve only just met at the bar then he’ll put some kind of drug in her drink then take her home ya know 😳 :D

YO okay wait idea idea cause like YES!! I can see Denki doing this

like you two meet at the bar! how cute!

TW - drugging, NSFW, noncon. Reader is unable to consent. Sleezy Kaminari.

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

He’s so smooth and suave, well, he tries to be, but he’s maybe a little tipsy so he comes off as a bit more goofy and really flirty. Still, you find it charming. His redheaded friend is hovering in the background, talking to the bartender and keeping an eye on his deviant friend, stepping in to pull him back when Denki is trying to slide your panties off in public, or trying to whip his dick out to rub it between your thighs when the two of you are grinding on each other. You’re a bit too drunk to notice how salacious he’s getting. What you do notice - the electric blonde is intriguing, funny, and you could wager that he’s still a riot when he’s sober. You give him your number when he asks for it.

His big friend gets distracted, or maybe he went to go use the bathroom, you’re not really sure. But Denki is whooping and ordering drinks for the two of you, and he’s telling a stupid joke about umbrellas and amidst your laughter you miss the small pill he slips into the drink he hands you. 

The big redhead comes back sometime, you’re feeling dizzy and kind of sick, decide it’s time to head home. Denki feels bad, said he made you drink too much and that he’s sorry, can he help go hail a cab? He’s so nice.

He waves to his friend, says he’s heading out for the night. You’re trying to focus on not falling; you don’t see the redhead give him a thumbs up and a whoop.

Last thing you remember is Denki helping you into a cab, sliding into the seat next to you. Did he say he was going with you? You thought he was going to just help you into one....... but you’re so tired you don’t argue - just lean your head on his shoulder and fall asleep.

----

You wake up to pleasure, friction between your legs. The blonde man, Denki, is hovering over you, and you can feel his dick pummeling into your pussy. You don’t feel so good, can’t remember much, feel funny. But you can’t push him off, your hands are tied above your head, at least you think. It’s hard to open your mouth, your tongue heavy and sticky and yet somehow dry. When you do manage to crack open your lips, all that comes out is a choked moan, Denki’s hips slapping against your ass.

The man’s focus is torn away from his cock sliding into you, his eyes finding yours. He doesn’t even seem tipsy as he chuckles.

“Aw, you’re awake! Fuck - you’re such a hot piece of ass, haven’t gotten a girl this tight in a while.”

His words fly over your head; you’re just trying to make sense of the situation, brain working slowly, thoughts muddled.

“You’re so slutty, practically threw yourself on me at the bar. You like whoring yourself out for strange men, huh? Want them to take you home and tear unto your pussy until you can’t walk?”

You whine. None of that's true, but you can’t think why, or even how to tell him so. It’s hard to focus past the burning twinges of pleasure shooting up your spine on each delicious thrust. 

The blonde huffs, his hips picking up speed as he curses. “Out of all the girls I’ve drugged - fuck - you’re the cutest. Look at that little face, barely even know what's happening to you right now, don't’cha?”

He’s leaning down, pressing his forehead to yours, and he’s sweaty, his hair is tickling your face, his gaze is so intense but this close - you can’t look away.

“I think I’ll keep you. Yeah, something’s different about you, I can tell. Maybe it’s how good your pussy is massaging my cock. I like that.” He groaned, and then shoved his face into the pillow next to your head. You were tired again, wanted to go to sleep. It felt good, whatever he was doing.

Denki’s hips stuttered, then stilled, and you felt warmth fill your insides. You distantly wondered what that meant. This didn’t feel right. Should you be scared?

The blonde was patting your face, shifting so the two of you were on your sides, facing each other. 

“Mmhm, I like you. Hope you won’t get too worked up when you wake up tomorrow. Usually I get the girls outta here before they even know that they were here.” He was moving inside you, idly rubbing his cock against your sensitive, spongey walls. You felt like exploding, it felt nice. 

“We’re gonna make each other feel so good, I finally get my own little fucktoy! This is so exciting, can’t wait to fuck into a hot pussy whenever I want.”

You were slipping, getting gently rocked back into unconsciousness as Denki began thrusting inside of you again. At this point, you weren’t even listening to what he was saying.

“This is gonna be so much fun.... well, it’s gonna a be fun for me. Probably not for you, but that’s okay.”

[nohoney]

Do It For Me -3.1

notes: Part 3 of the Us Series from my ao3

characters: Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Tomura Shigaraki

warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, polyamory

summary:

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

3.1 ✧ 3.2 ✧ 3.3

Touya tends to keep you out of the loop on certain things, wanting to be as vague as possible sometimes if you do happen to ask. Like when you asked why he bothered attending university, he simply said that it was because his mother wanted him to and that was all that you got out of it. When you tried to probe further, he had snapped at you and left to go have a smoke. At ten months in the relationship, you’ve learned that if he didn’t want to tell you something, there was no way that you could change his mind.

Only Touya tells you what you need to know or not know.

The only thing you’re really curious about is some of his background, mostly about his family and his upbringing. As far as you’ve seen and heard, he’s the oldest of his siblings—two brothers and one sister— and he doesn’t necessarily get along too well with them from what he’s passively mentioned. He seems close with his mom, you’ve heard him talk on the phone with her sometimes, but no mention of his dad. You think it’s safe to assume that his family probably doesn’t know that he deals but you won’t dare ask him, it seems like a sensitive subject.

Speaking of dealing, you slip cash into his pocket while he cooks on the stovetop and pat his backside. Touya just chuckles and nods his head towards his jacket that’s tossed onto the couch. You reach into the inner pocket and pull out a little baggy of half gram of coke, putting it into the inner pocket inside your purse. One of your friends had asked if you could drop off cash to Touya to buy off of him and you could drop it off when you go to class next time you see her. “Yumi says thanks in advance, she says that she got her other connect’s coke the other day but that it’s just not as good as yours.”

“Heh, of course it’s not. Tell her that if she cheats again then I’m going to cut her off.” Touya jokes as he stirs the pot before lowering the gas on the stove and putting the lid on top. He rolls his shoulders briefly and walks away from the kitchen to let the food in the pot simmer for a little bit. “Keep an eye out on the food, I’m going to shower really quick.”

“Sure thing.” You make yourself comfortable on the sofa and just scroll through your social media on your phone, replying to certain messages or sharing posts to friends. Keigo texts you to as if you’re going with Touya to the next house party and that if you’re not, he’s more than happy to keep you company if you want to stay in and wait for Touya to get back. You smile down at his message and just send back a simple ‘we’ll see’ with a smiling emoji. Enough time has passed where you think you should go check on the food, just stirring it to make sure the food doesn’t burn on the bottom of the pot. As you sample your boyfriend’s cooking and add just a little bit more salt to taste, someone knocks on the door.

Touya doesn’t really get visitors aside from you and Keigo so you wonder who could be at his front door.

When you peek your head out through crack as much as the chain will allow, you see a young man dressed in a hoodie with his hands in his pockets. He seems to be as surprised as you are when you answer the door, his lips thinning into a line briefly before asking, “Is Dabi here?”

“Who’s asking?” you’re cautious because you’ve never seen this guy before. He’s got a rather distinct appearance, he seems sickly with his pale skin, messy blue hair and these scary red eyes you’ve never seen on anyone else before.

“Shigaraki.” And he says nothing more.

You have half a mind to lie and say that Touya’s not here but you hear the door to the bathroom open just in time, he walks out in fresh clothes and a towel around his neck. “What are you doing there doll?”

“Uh there’s a guy here, says his name is Shigaraki. He’s looking for you.”

Touya’s eyes narrow at the name before he walks towards you, setting you to the side and undoing the chain on the door. He lets this mysterious man in and shuts the door, the atmosphere suddenly very tense. You shift your weight from one foot to the other and look to Touya expectantly. Whoever the guest is, he only gives you a brief once over before looking to your boyfriend and says, “We need to talk, just the two of us.”

“Well that works out because my girl here was just about to head to the store.” you meet his gaze as Touya turns to look at you. “I know it’s a bitch babe, but the ingredients we want are in that fancy market that’s fifteen minutes away. It shouldn’t take you longer than ten minutes to get everything though. Make sure to stop by and get gas on the way back for the car, put down a twenty and I’ll reimburse you later.”

You’ve been with Touya long enough to know when he’s talking in code. Fifteen and ten, be gone for at least twenty-five minutes, possibly an extra twenty making it forty-five in total. So you play along and collect your sweater and purse, making sure you have everything before skedaddling out the door, no goodbye kiss unfortunately. You’re pretty much kicked out for the time being and you don’t even know why. “I guess I might as well drop off the half…”

Forty-five minutes pass but Touya hasn’t given you the okay yet to return. You think that maybe you need to wait an extra while longer so you wait outside his complex just a bit longer with your phone in your hand and anticipating his text. When it gets close to an hour since you’ve left, you decide to ask first if it’s okay that you return. Your phone pings immediately with a response.

Go stay with Keigo.

And that’s all you get, no explanation or even a time when you can see him again.

So you stay with Keigo at his place, exactly like he told you to and provides a distraction for the time being. The two of you cook together, laughing over the dinner you made as he tells you about a funny joke he heard earlier, cleaning up after yourselves when the meal is all finished, and then washing up together in his bathroom. He’s such a tease as he massages body wash all over you, pressing into a sensitive spot in your back or his fingers ghosting over your clit. He works you up to the point that you beg to be fucked, whining when you’re only given a teasing smile and just a nibble to your ear. “Please Keigo, no more teasing!”

He could be such a cheeky bastard though, ignoring your pouting but still has the audacity to touch you all over. “You know the acoustics in the bathroom always sound better, don’t you think?”

“Keigo!” you whine, your arms coming up and looping just right behind his neck. His cock is getting hard, you can feel it against your leg, so you don’t know why he’s not bothering to just take you right then and there. “You’re being a dick!”

“You know why acoustics are better in the bathroom (Name)?” he asks as his hands skim over your back and ignores your whines. “I’m asking you a question.”

“How am I suppose to know?”

Keigo chuckles at you and pushes you to lean against the back wall of the shower. He takes your wrists and holds them together in one hand, pushing them above your head so that your entirely exposed to him. He grabs his cock in his free hand and teases the head of it against your click, relishing your yelp when he slaps it against your sensitive pearl. “Just a little fun fact for you, acoustics in the shower sound better because you’re surrounded by hard, smooth surfaces that bounce back to you. So while the sounds are bouncing around, your voice sounds more pronounced, it takes longer to reach your ears and sounds more enriched. Isn’t that so interesting?”

You whine petulantly at him, asking why he’s telling you this in the first place.

“I guess what I’m saying is songbird,” Keigo releases your hands and quickly turns you around to make you brace against the wall, jutting your ass out towards him with his hands set firmly on your hips. “sing me a pretty song, yeah?”

Your voice echoes as Keigo rails you on his cock and your wet skin slapping against each other sounding particularly lewd. The shower is still running with warm water and steam clouds the bathroom but you feel even warmer as you push back to meet Keigo’s thrusts. One of his hands slide up your spine, warm fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair and pull your head back. You’re choked up, voice strangling to come out with your head angled back and your fingers trying to find purchase on something to hold onto.

He’s merciless, he won’t let you catch a break. Keigo pulls you back against him, one arm around your waist to hold you close and the other at your throat. There are heavy breaths in your ear, low growls and a rough command of, “Touch yourself.” Your fingers messily rub your clit, not using any kind of technique because honestly Keigo is fucking your brains out so you are acting on instinct. Breathless whimpers fall out of your lips, barely registering when you feel soft kisses against your temple.

“Fucking cum with me songbird, hit that last note for me huh?” Keigo growls into your ear, just about ready to cum. It’s more than just your cunt that’s getting him off, he loves to hear your voice as he makes a mess of you. He just wants to listen to your voice, it appeals more to his senses during sex more than anything else. Touya gets nudes from you, Keigo gets audio recordings of you moaning. “Say you wanna cum with me, say it.”

“Wanna cum with Kei… pleas’ make me cum…” you slur, your brain fucked out and just letting yourself be used. “Kei, les’ cum together…”

Your bent over as Keigo fucks harshly into your body, lewd praises echoing inside the bathroom as you beautiful cries rip from your throat. You have one hand braced on the wall of the shower and the other on the floor, just holding on for dear life and only able to moan and cry out his name. You’re thankful for him, thankful for his kindness, his patience, and his cock. Your orgasm hits you hard to the point that you see stars in your vision, unable to hold yourself up and dropping your weight. Luckily Keigo’s got you, happy to hold you like the little fucked out rag doll you are as he finished inside you.

The shower still runs and steam still curls in the air as the two of you catch your breath. He’s still hard inside you, thrusting just a few more times to overstimulate himself a little before pulling out. Any cum that leaks out of your pussy is washed away, you want to clench to hold as much inside you as you can.

Keigo towels you off first before drying himself, lending you one of his shirts to wear and tells you to wait on his bed like a good girl.

So you wait like the good girl you are, staring at your phone and waiting to hear back from Touya.

I miss him. You think to yourself and wonder what Touya could possibly be doing. It’s late in the evening now and he hasn’t given you an update about where he is and what he’s doing. A part of you is tempted to just go back to his apartment and wait for him there but you have a feeling that he sent you to Keigo to make you stay put. He trusts Keigo more than anyone else to look after you, to keep you warm and loved when he’s away.

A movie plays on Keigo’s laptop as the two of you are curled on the bed, him being the big spoon and an arm loosely draped over your waist. You sink your cheek into the soft pillow and idly reach a hand up to touch Keigo, giggling a little when the tips of your fingers brush against his chin stubble. He kisses your hand and sets it back in place against your chest, snuggling behind you to continue watching the movie.

A question rings through your mind and you wonder if he can answer it.

“Baby bird?” Keigo looks to you when you reach out and pause the movie. “Did you need a pee break?”

You adjust your position so that you can look up at him. “Who’s Shigaraki?”

His face doesn’t betray anything, keeping it straight and just looking down at you. “How do you know that name?”

“He came by Touya’s place while I was there, he said he had something to talk about with him and then I got sent out.”

Touya must have let Keigo know something, seeing as when you arrived he already had things ready in his apartment for you by the time you arrived. Keigo brushes his thumb idly against your cheek, slowly running the pad of it back and forth on your cheekbone rather lovingly even though his face doesn’t reflect his action. “If Touya’s never mentioned Shigaraki to you after all this time then that means he doesn’t want you to know about him. He has his reasons, alright dove?”

“So you know about Shigaraki?” you ask with a curious tilt to your head. With a confirming nod you can’t help but ask still who exactly he is. “Touya never lets anyone in at his place but that Shigaraki guy was let in, but he called him Dabi so he’s not close to him like that. He looked kinda young, I’ve never seen a guy like him around campus.”

“I’m not telling you anything dove, just let it go.” There’s a hint of a warning behind his tone but you don’t heed it, talking more and asking why you can’t know. “(Name), I’m putting my foot down. Do not ask me or Touya about Shigaraki. Now drop it, do not bring this up again or you’re going to piss me off.”

Keigo’s never spoken to you in that manner so it catches you off guard. He usually speaks with such a casual lilt and is very easy going about anything and everything. It’s something of a shock to you that you almost can’t comprehend it, looking down like a scolded child and mumbling out a quiet ‘okay’. He feels bad instantly having to have to talk to you that way but he had to convey just how much you could not breach this subject. He leans down to kiss your forehead, muttering apologies and bringing you into his arms to hold you tight. “Don’t ask Touya okay, he’ll get upset if you do. C’mon, let’s keep watching the movie.”

Touya contacts you the next morning to ask if you’re still with Keigo, to which you answer yes and ask where he is. He doesn’t give a proper answer and simply tells you that he’ll return early tomorrow morning. “Touya, I didn’t even get to kiss you goodbye yesterday if I had known that you were just going to disappear on me.”

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow when I see you princess, alright? Be good for me.”

He hangs up and you just stare at the lockscreen of your phone for a few seconds before sighing and setting down your phone. Touya wasn’t one for lying, he always told the truth if not at least keep quiet about what he didn't want to talk about, but it was rare when you could get him to admit something he doesn’t want you to know. Sure it’s fine to not have to know everything about your partner but this felt… weird. Somehow it feels worse than the three other girls he still fucks every once in a while when he goes out. The whores he was honest and upfront about, whatever is going on with this Shigaraki is entirely different business.

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

You believed Keigo but it didn’t really provide any comfort to you.

‘I miss you, come back soon’ You text him, it feels stupid seeing as you saw him yesterday but you hadn’t anticipated that you wouldn’t be returning to his apartment when he sent you out. Though to be fair, he probably didn’t expect it either. If there was one thing that had been made apparent while analyzing your boyfriend was his need to know about your whereabouts no matter what and ease his anxiety about who would be around you when you went out without him. Maybe that’s just how he loves you, just unrefined and not quite polished just yet.

Your phone pings a several hours later from Touya. ‘Miss you.’

━━━━✧

All you can do is just wait and sit pretty for him when he gets back.

Keigo drops you off at Touya’s the next day, parting with a lingering kiss before going on his merry way.

When you enter the apartment, you see Touya resting on the sofa along with a small rectangular sized bag on the coffee table. You're curious if it's Touya's, never seeing this kind of bag before and undo the clips and the zipper of the bag and curiously lift the top, an assortment of drugs siting inside. One of the few first you recognize is Adderall, ecstasy, cocaine, and shrooms. The pills are separated in those orange prescription bottles and the rest are in little plastic baggies. You’ve never been around whenever Touya gets a refresh of his inventory, always making you wait a day or two before he allows you back into his place. Wherever he hides it in his apartment, you’ve never once stumbled on it. Yet here it is, just out in the open and you just had to be curious and look inside. You close up the bag and fasten the clips on it before sitting on the edge of the sofa, careful to not disturb Touya.

You wonder if that Shigaraki guy is his supplier, if not at least connected to his supplier.

“If it isn’t my pretty doll…”

You jump at the sound of Touya’s voice, quickly looking behind you and catching his sleepy gaze and a lazy smile. He’s been sleepy around you plenty of times and you know what he’s like when he’s high, but there’s something different about his expression and movements this time that unsettles you. The only thing that comes to mind is that he might have tried something new and that scares you. “Baby? Are you on something?”

Touya gives you a slow nod in answer, his hand reaching out and weakly grabbing your bicep. He gives a light tug and makes you lean over towards him, soft coos of ‘my baby’, ‘pretty doll’ and ‘princess’ pass through his lips. When you ask what he’s on, he just slowly shakes his head and laughs lowly. “Can’t tell you baby, it’s not for you… Shit like this isn’t for my good girl.”

“Oh but it’s okay for you?” you ask with mild irritation. You take his hand and press your cheek into his palm, delicately holding his wrist and looking down at him with crinkled brows. “Well whatever you’re on, do I have to get the Narcan?”

“My smart doll looking out for me… you remember where it is?”

“Oh my god, Touya please don’t tell me that I actually have to be on the lookout for you in case you overdose. I don’t think that’s something I can handle.” You’re anxious now as you go into his bedroom and retrieve the Narcan from his bedside table, keeping it on hand when you go back to sit on the couch with him. Touya’s tolerance for narcotics is pretty high but on some level you still fear that something might happen. “Do I have to call Keigo?”

He answers with a lazy shake of his head, his hand idly rubbing your thigh as you look down worriedly at him. Glancing over to the case and then at you, he asks, “You look inside it?”

You’re not a bad liar by any means but Touya is a master of smelling bullshit, so there’s no point in trying to lie to lie to him in the first place even if he is high at the moment. “Yeah…”

“Anything in there you want to try?” His fingers drum against the denim jeans you wear before lifting to play with the belt loop. “If you want to try anything new, what’s the rule doll?”

“Never from someone else, only from you.”

As if you needed a reminder.

That rule was established shortly after deciding to sleep with Keigo. You were invited to a kickback with a small group of your friends who also brought some of their friends, you were all just sitting around the kitchen island and drinking, at least that’s what you thought that was all you were going to do. You got a little drunk that night and one of your girlfriends presented a sugar cube to you held carefully in between her thumb and forefinger. You didn’t think anything of it in your drunken state of mind, you were complaining earlier that night that you wanted something sweet so you thought she was just satisfying your sugar craving. After about half an hour, your vision began to distort, different colors suddenly washing over the crowd of people you were hanging out with and you asked what was happening.

It turned out that the sugar cube you ate was laced with LSD.

Your friends had tried to calm you down, telling you that you’ll ruin your come up but it was too late. “You gave me acid! I’m not ready to try acid, you should have told me!” The timeline of that night was fuzzy and you can’t remember if it was you or someone else who called Touya and Keigo, but needless to say they were angry upon arrival when they found you distraught in a corner inside the house. Even during your bad trip, you could taste Touya’s fury when he tried to find out who had given you LSD without telling you while Keigo was trying to soothe you. You were promptly taken away from the party and the boys watched over you for the remainder of your trip, staying up with you with the help of four grams of coke to help keep them alert for a little over twelve hours while keeping you quarantined inside Touya’s place.

Touya had declared not too long after that you were not allowed to take any kind of narcotic from anyone else but him from now on. When you asked the boys what had happened at the party when they showed up, both of them remained silent. The ones from the kickback who were trip sitting, they refused to answer your questions to fill in the blank of what happened that night. You suspect that Touya might have threatened them into silence but there was no definitive proof, you don’t want to recall the memory because all you remember was the anxiety, the strange distortions of shapes your mind could never produce while sober, and at one point telling Touya that you could ‘hear how hungry his couch was’.

Keigo tells you that they should have micro dosed you instead by dissolving the sugar cube into a glass of water and just had you take a sip because that’s how he had it his first time. Touya just straight up does not like it at all, he hated his first and only trip on acid. Either way you would not be ready to try it again at all anytime soon.

Never once have you had to watch over Touya while he’s high, he’s usually the one doing the watching seeing as he had a better handle on his tolerance versus you who’s experience was just a step up from novice. But you keep a careful eye on him as he drifts back to sleep, keeping a glass of water and the Narcan nearby, running your hand through his hair. The roots are growing out, white contrasting with the black hair dye you’re used to helping him do. Touya’s been talking recently about washing out the black for a while just to give himself a break. You’ve seen a few photos of Touya with his natural hair color, courtesy of Keigo, and he’s just as handsome no matter what.

You stare at him while he sleeps, a pillow propped up behind his head and his hands resting on his stomach. He still hasn’t kissed you like he promised he would yesterday on the phone, so you lean down to fulfill it for him. No response, like you expected, but at least you got to do it.

He’s sober a few hours later, though still just a bit sluggish from whatever it was he took and the bag is put away in the room but you don’t know where. Whatever food was made the day before yesterday, you see it in a container inside the fridge and the pot still sitting in the dish wrack. At least whatever dinner you were supposed to have together the other day wasn’t put to waste and Touya went through the trouble of making sure you could have it later on. So you warm up a portion of it in a small pot and just stir, barely moving as Touya comes up and hugs you from behind. His arms come around your waist and presses right up against you. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask about what?” you continue to stir the food in the little pot.

“About what happened the other day?” Touya brings his hands to cup just underneath your breasts and slightly sways in place, your body following along with his movements. “Not curious at all?”

You shrug your shoulders, thinking of what Keigo said the other day and his usual approach to things in life. You channel him inside you and just act cool, casual, and whatever about it. “I figured you would have explained yourself by now if you wanted me to know. You’re usually so straight forward about everything.”

Touya makes you tilt your head up to look at him with a slight nod of approval. “Good girl.”

God the way your heart flutters when he gives you praise over the simplest things… even over something suspicious like this.

You do feel the need to ask, “Is that person someone I’ll be seeing more of?”

“If things were one hundred percent in my control then you would have never caught a glimpse of him in the first place. But to answer your question, you shouldn’t be, he doesn’t ever drop in like that. He wasn’t interested in you when he came by thankfully.”

You should know better than to ask because you’ll know it’ll make Touya seethe but you do anyway, “Well what would you have done if he looked at me a certain way? Set him on fire?”

“To finish him off after a slow torture, yeah.” Touya spits through gritted teeth and reaches over you to turn off the gas to the stovetop. “The shit I’d do to some guys for fucking staring too long at you…”

You could relate, you’ve had some vivid fantasies sometimes about the side whores and just straight up eliminating them in the most violent way possible. Not just stupid hair pulling or petty name calling, you imagined inflicting blunt trauma in certain fatal areas or having them tied up in the middle of the road while you sat in the driver’s seat of Touya’s car, revving the engine and just speed down to get to them as soon as possible.

Touya probably had more imagination for what he’d do to anyone he thought was a threat but you’re not going to open that door. So you turn around in his arms and rest one hand at the nape of his neck, your fingers massaging gently and you assure him, “Hey relax, I’m yours Touya.”

“Yeah… you’re mine.” Touya sighs in what seems like relief as he leans down to hug you. “You’re my doll, no one else’s.”

You won’t bring up Keigo and the fact that you’re being shared with him, it feels like Touya needs the reassurance right now that it really is just the two of you. In these moments you realize that his insecurities are thinly unveiled, not quite put out there but just peeking out the corner and hoping to not be noticed. So you say it again and he tells you how much he likes when you say his name, that when it falls out of your pretty lips that he can’t help but want you to scream it until your voice is raw and hoarse. “Only you can call me that doll, it’s all yours.”

Not Dabi, haven’t used that name in months.

“Touya, Touya…” you whisper in between breathless kisses, gasping as you’re pulled away from the kitchen to the bedroom. Guess that food will go cold once again…

Touya’s body isn’t in top condition yet to have sex but he pulls off your bottoms when he pushes you to lie back on the bed. There have been night’s a plenty where either you serviced Touya strictly and vice versa for you, though most of the time you just loved to fuck. Fuck when you’re happy, upset, a little drunk, or bored and all that; there’s nothing like feeling close to Touya when he’s inside of you. He’s unlike any other partner you’ve had before, no one is as hypnotizing as him, you’ve never been drawn in to anyone else like Touya before.

And he’s as entranced by you, if not more.

Kisses pressed into the inside of your thighs along with playful nips and teasing licks on your sensitive skin. He knows exactly where to touch you where you’ll practically beg for him and the right words to use to make you desperate because Touya’s not afraid to hold out on you if he wants to. He likes to see you frustrated and worked up, if he wants to pull out to edge you for the rest of the night, he’ll do so and ignore your pretty cries and desperate pleas that you’ll do anything for him as long as you can cum on his cock. Most of the time he gives in because, well, he loves your pussy and he loves fucking you. But fuck when Touya decides to be sadistic, the role always suits him quite well.

Not tonight though, no delicious sadistic edging or degradation. Touya knows that he made you worry the day before so he wants to make it up to you in best way he knows how to. He wishes that he could use his dick properly right now to fuck you but his body is still trying to process the shit he took earlier so it’ll just have to be his mouth and hands for the moment to get you off.

It’s not hard to get you to cum, there have been instances where as soon as his dick sheathes into your pussy you gush on the spot. There are days like that where it’s just that easy and other days where you need it angled just the right way inside you or the right words to fire off your imagination. “Fucking love it when you squirm like this, so goddamn cute.” Touya growls as he drags the pads of his fingers against your G-spot before flicking his tongue on your clit.

Those words help but it’s not quite what will set you off.

“Say more.”

So he does, finding the right combination of words, adjectives, proper nouns, and verbs to stimulate your mind while stimulating your pussy. It’s vivid and a pretty picture, more than just a pretty picture because he describes actual memories of the steamiest and sordid encounters. The first time you fucked on the fourth floor of the library way in the very back, the day you skipped your afternoon lectures to day drink at a brewery and just made out in his car, skinny dipping at night at the local pool, and one time you sucked his cock while he was on the headset and playing games online with Keigo.

You’re just about there, heavy breaths and panting exiting from your body as your toes curl and your fingers twist the sheets in your hand.

Touya could say more about how much he loves to fuck you seven ways to Sunday, all the kinks he still hasn’t tried with you yet and is excited to try when you’re ready, that he wants you to cum all over his fucking face and lick your sensitive cunt until you can’t take it anymore. You’ve heard it before, some more than others, but it’s not those words that make you come undone before him tonight. It’s not the images of past passionate encounters and the anticipation of getting fucked by Touya that do make you cum all over his face like he wanted.

He spouts that shit frequently but tonight he says something different, something that in the back of your mind that you were probably aware of but he never voiced out loud. When the words leave his mouth and are spoken out to you, it’s a new type of intimacy and sentiment that elevates you and makes you realize how deep you’re in this with him, how deep he is in you… emotionally.

“I’d do fucking anything for you.”

Bullet one.

You choke up, it’s not that you want to cry because how moving those words were but because the revolver is loaded and he just fired the first bullet in the chamber that will undoubtedly lead you to an intense orgasm.

“Never had this with anyone else.”

Bullet two.

“I don’t want this with anyone else, believe me.”

Bullet three.

“I don’t fucking deserve you but I’ll do what it takes to keep you with me.”

Bullet four.

“It’s scares me doll but I…”

Bullet five… will he say it?

“I’d do it all for you.”

Bullet six.

The chamber is empty and the barrel of the gun wisps smoke, your back is arched as your whole body convulses with an earth shattering orgasm that you’re literally left shaking from how powerful it was. And Touya continues to speak those words from bullet one, “I’d do fucking anything for you.”

And he is, Keigo unveiled that, the whores are dwindling not by your request but by Touya’s conscious choice. He’s choosing you, slowly but surely, there will only be you if the cards are dealt right. No one has been in his bed the way you’re invited in, hasn’t held anyone else the way he does with you, and more than likely has not been this vulnerable with someone else either. He’s terrible at feelings, still gets his dick wet sometimes when he sells to his side whores, and he withholds certain secrets to keep you safe.

Should I say it?

You thought he’d say it, those deeper feelings that Keigo had accidentally unveiled, you thought he’d say ‘I love you’ tonight but this is a step closer to it. You won’t make him say it, you won’t beg for it, you’ll sit pretty and patient because Touya will come around. He may have his secrets but he releases the ones to you that are worth knowing, and you’ll get it so long as you’re good for him.

Don’t ask about the whores, it’s okay be jealous but don’t ask, don’t get into another argument. Don’t ask about where the drugs are from and if that Shigaraki guy is linked to it, he would have told you by now if he wanted you to know. Don’t ask to see another man because him and Keigo should be enough, they won’t treat you as good the way they are with you. Do whatever Touya wants of you and he’ll do it all for you in return.

[eternalstann]

Foot Massage

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

 Warnings: Smut; Mature content [2360 words].

Summary: Bucky gives you a foot massage after a night out with the girls. Except, it turns into a lot more than a foot massage. 

_________________________________________

     You tried to subdue yourself from your fit of giggles as you walked through the doors of the compound. Natasha bent forward grabbing her knees, doubled over from laughter. "Wait, spin around for me again" she choked out whilst looking up at you. You broke when you started to twirl and she smacked your ass. "Natasha!" you exclaimed swatting her hands away. "I definitely see why those guys couldn't keep their eyes off of you tonight, cause your ass is literally a work of art" she spoke cupping your ass in her hands and jiggling it. "You're beyond drunk Nat" you whisper, remembering that it was going on four a.m.

You were about to head to the kitchen when the light from the living room flicked on revealing almost all of the guys sitting on the couch. "Could you be any louder?" Steve asked with a half smile on his face and you were surprised he wasn't upset at you all for being out so late. He truly did act 100 sometimes. "You guys definitely had a good night, hey Y/N, if anything happens between you and Nat tonight come get me first" Sam snickered from his spot on the recliner adjacent to Steve. You just rolled your eyes, typical Sam. You loved him to death, you just didn't have those type of feelings for him. Even though his flirty banter was a nice confidence boost every now and then.

Maybe you could have those feelings for Sam one day; he was handsome, smart, funny and strong. But right now you only had eyes for Bucky Barnes. You bit your lip as your eyes fell to him sitting next to Steve on the couch. There was something about the quiet man that you were just so drawn to. His eyes met yours for a moment before he turned to face Carol who had plopped down in the open seat next to him. A pang of jealousy coarsed through you as she handed him a beer and placed her feet up onto the table in front of them. You mentally kicked yourself for not beating her over there. He was wearing a tight fitting navy blue t-shirt. His chest and shoulders filled it out so completely you were positive if he breathed too deeply it'd rip off him. A pair of gray basketball shorts and socks finished his look and you couldn't help but stare at his muscular thighs. Your thoughts were about to take a turn towards the R-rated when you felt a pair of small but strong arms wrap around your waist.

"I love youuuu!" Natasha quipped rocking you back and forth. "I love you too Nat" you replied placing your hands over hers. She always got really touchy when she was drunk but usually you didn't have as much of an audience. The red headed (and sometimes blonde) woman was truly your closest friend. She kissed your cheek before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the love seat. "Hey Tony and Bucky! Peter isn't it past your bedtime?" You joked. "Haha you're so funny Y/N, you're only a few years older then me so relax!" He laughed. "Where are Clint and Bruce?" Natasha asked noticing the two of them were missing from the bunch. "Bruce went to bed a while ago and Clint went home for the weekend. I'm Surprised you were even able to deduct they weren't here as drunk as you are Nat" Tony spoke pulling laughs from the guys.

"Where's Wanda?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow. "You know where she is" Carol responded before taking a sip of her beer. "Okay Wanda, I knew she was a freak! It's always the quiet ones!" Sam just wouldn't stop tonight. "At least someones getting some, this job is horrible for my sex life" Nat deadpanned. "No seriously, I haven't had sex in so long I think my virginity is growing back" You were joked. Though you were getting crucially horny. Everyone laughed but you felt butterflies watching Bucky laugh, it was a rare occurrence so you tried your best to take it in. "I'm sure anyone here would love to help you with your problem Y/N, including Nat" Carol looked at you. "Wow Carol so you wouldn't?" "Oh, girl especially me" She laughed and you could feel your neck get hot. "Well right now my biggest problem is how bad my feet hurt" You reached down to pull off your strappy black heels.

"I'll give you a foot massage" Bucky shrugged and your head shot up so fast you almost got whiplash. "Don't let me block your blessing girl" and Carol got up switching seats with you. You weren't even fully seated when he grabbed your legs and pulled your feet into his lap. You shivered at the feel of his cold metal hand and then the warmth of his flesh one. It was probably odd to be receiving a foot rub in front of the team but you couldn't find it in you to care. Bucky's big hands used just the right amount of pressure on your sore soles and it took all of your effort not to let out a moan. His metal hand lifted your leg up and his other one squeezed your calf, rubbing up and down. You felt your nipples harden and you took a deep breathe to try and keep your composure. He was barely doing anything and you were falling apart.

He was smiling at you, an innocent smile but the sight of it made your pussy wet. You felt like those blues eyes were staring right through you. "Is this good?" he whispered to you, trying not to draw the attention of the others a they had all begun watching whatever was on T.V. "You're perfect Buck" you sighed, pushing back your hair and letting your head fall onto the arm rest of the couch.

The way you were sprawled out, legs on his lap with your back arched slightly he felt his shorts grow tighter. He could see your hard nipples through your thin black dress and he closed his eyes to imagine your bare breasts. You were gorgeous, watching Nat all over you made him both turned on and jealous at once. It was his idea for him and the guys to stay up having a movie night because you were going out with the girls. He wanted to make sure you were safe, even though you could more then handle yourself. Your legs were so smooth and soft, he wished he could feel the rest of you.

After about fifteen minutes you yawned and his heart dropped, fearing it was the end of your interaction. "I'm gonna go lay down" you spoke sitting up and putting your hand on his arm. "Thank you Bucky, I'll have to return the favor sometime" you smiled before getting up and padding barefoot to your room. You weren't really tired but you needed some relief. You stripped your dress off as soon as you made it to your room. You lay on your bed and ran your hands down your body, remembering the feeling of Bucky’s touch. Your core throbbed at just the thought of him, an ache deep within you that only he could fix.

Bucky got up as soon as he'd noticed you'd forgotten your shoes. A perfect excuse to see you again. He was gonna knock but he stopped in his tracks when he saw your door was still cracked open. "Y/N you left your shoes-" His breathe caught in his throat at the sight in front of him. There you were- splayed out on your bed, legs open with one hand between them touching yourself. Your head had been against the pillows but rose in shock at the sound of his voice. "Bucky- I..." you exclaimed but you couldn't find words. "I'm so sorry..I should've knocked" Bucky spoke, barely above a whisper and unable to take his eyes off of you.

"Bucky can I tell you something..?" you didn't know where this confidence came from but you hoped it would see you through. "...I'm really fucking horny". Your eyes focused on the bulge in his shorts. "And I could use your help". Bucky was across the room in seconds, "then let me help you baby girl".

As soon as he was in reach you pulled his face to yours. The kiss was dirty and sensual, the kind that made your brain turn to static. Your fingers found their way to his hair, holding onto him like he would disappear if you let go. His were around your waist pulling you so close a sheet of paper wouldn't fit between the two of you. His mouth tasted like your new favorite thing and his scent was intoxicating. "Bucky get naked" you whined tugging at at the hem of his shirt. He obliged pulling his top over his head. He had scars littered across his broad chest, you leaned forwards and licked down his sternum. "These shorts need to go too.." you drawled, tugging them down.

You took a moment to take in his length, you had no doubt he'd be well endowed but you were almost nervous at how big he was. You took him in your mouth, bobbing your head a few times before looking up at him. His pupils were blown, mouth in a small 'o' at the sight of you. You bobbed faster, swirling your tongue around the head and placing your hands on his thighs to steady yourself. "Holy shit baby girl, don't stop" he moaned, his flesh hand falling to the back of your head.

You kept going, obscene noises of your sucking echoed through the room. "Fuck" you heard Bucky mutter under his breath and you knew he was close. You hummed around him and that was it, you felt his hot load shoot into your mouth and you did you best to swallow it all. You pulled back and tried to catch your breath but Bucky pulled you up and bent you over the bed. He spread your legs and rubbed your sex, "you ready for me baby girl?". You couldn't even speak, you just nodded your head; but that wasn't enough for Bucky. His hand came down on your ass and you jumped at the sting. "Talk to me Y/N". He smacked you again and you let out a whimper, "Yes Bucky please, I'm ready!". Your jaw dropped when you felt his tongue against your pussy. He didn't waste any time, licking and tasting you. He ate you like you were his last meal. 

"Oh god, I'm gonna cum" you cried, as that pleasant burn began to form in the pit of your stomach. He picked up the pace, encouraged by your words. He began sucking on your clit. You nearly screamed his name as you reached your peak. He used his mouth to ride you through your orgasm. You let your face fall flat against the bed when he was finished. You felt like you were floating. “Get on the bed babygirl” he commanded and you obeyed.

You lay flat on your back, staring at the beautiful man hovering over you. Bucky shook his head and disbelief, still not able to believe he was finally having you this way. “You’re so gorgeous” he spoke, leaning down to kiss you again. “Please Buck, I need you” you were pining at this point. Bucky held himself up, his arms in either side of you, before pushing into you. The feeling made both of you breathless. “So wet for me..” Bucky mumbled, letting his forehead rest against yours. He pulled out almost completely before entering you again. You were certain you’d never felt this full before.

You arched your back as he began to thrust into you faster, your breast pressed against his chest and legs wrapped around his waist. You wished the two of you could stay in this moment forever. “You feel so good baby” you groaned letting your nails dig into back. Bucky liked the pain and picked up the pace even more, slamming into you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” you chanted like a mantra feeling your high approaching again. “You gonna come for me sweetheart?” Bucky asked, placing a hand around your throat and squeezing. All you could do was nod. His hips rubbed just right against your clit each time he delved into you.

Bucky’s thrusts got quicker and you clenched around him. “Cum for me Y/N!” Bucky muttered through gritted teeth and you did. He fucked you through you high, still chasing his own. You pulled his head down to yours rough, by his hair and Bucky grunted at the feeling finally finding his release and cumming inside of you. “Shit babygirl” he spoke before collapsing on top of you.

You let your fingers trace shapes on to the now sweaty skin of his back, just enjoying the moment. Laying in the dark, next to the man you’d been dreaming of for months. Until a stream of light came in from the doorway and you heard Natasha’s loud voice, “YOU GUYS THEY HAD SEX, I TOLD YOU!”

_____________________________

I never know how to end these omg 😭 but hey I’m a new blog! This is my first piece about a member of the avengers/cast so I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to send in requests or just chat! Sending you love. (P.S sorry I was so excited to post this I didn’t even proof read😭)

[elven-oracle]

under the rose: part 5|th

moodboard courtesy of @mcuspidey 

SUMMARY: Would you do anything for the person you love?

Would you do anything for the person you lust?

PAIRING: Agent!Tom Holland x Agent!Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

sub rosa: adjective and adverb. formal. happening or done in secret. directly translated from latin: “under the rose.”

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This will be the final chapter of Under the Rose! I’m so thrilled to have finished this story and that so many people enjoyed it. Thank you for your continuous support. If you want to find me, I’ll be writing my ongoing series “The Siren!”

Part 5: Bullet Straight Through My Brain

Everything was different when you returned to the evil lair. A certain special night would change your outlook on this mission for its remainder, but that wasn’t the only dissonance that rattled the metal walls. There was a certain way that the gang was looking at you that had you on edge. You ignored it for the time being, but each glare buried itself in your skin like a bullet. 

While watching that afternoon’s football game, you sat sideways in your chair with your feet sitting in Tom’s lap, his arms loosely lounging atop your shins. Every so often he would run his rough hands over the smooth skin of your legs, and at one point he even removed your shoes to massage your feet. It was comforting, especially in the midst of men who seemed as if they wanted to harm you at any given second. 

Boss was in his office, and he hadn’t shown any sign of coming out to join the others. When the cold stares got too much, you decided to busy yourself and hopefully get the tiniest amount of intel. For the past three weeks, you had been flirting with each of the men without any qualms, but as you approached the door to knock, you felt yourself turn back to Tom, wishing that you could apologize before being let in. His beautiful, deep brown eyes looked sad but knowing. He couldn’t blame you, the agency had told you to do whatever it took.

He was frowning when you entered into his space. You hadn’t seen the room before. There were no security cameras to hack into, and you hadn’t coughed up the bravery to try and enter before today. It was funny how fear of the other men had brought you face to face with the man that worried you the most. 

“Can I help you, Miss Rose?”

You smiled, devilishly, tossing your faux hair behind you and sitting down on a chair across from his desk. He was typing furiously on his desktop computer, and you would give anything to lean over and take a look at what it was. 

That would come later. For now, you needed to wear him out.

“I think you can, Mr. Bossman,” you still hated the way that the New Jersey accent sounded. You brought your voice to a higher pitch when you spoke with it, and if you were somebody else, you would have been annoyed with it.

He stopped typing, “How so, dear?” his chin was spotted with scruff, and he removed the sunglasses that shaded his eyes, revealing a set of baby blues that you had only just realized that this was your first time seeing. 

Standing, you circled around the right side of the desk, sitting on it in front of him, “It was just...getting a little boring. Sports have never really been my thing.” 

You leaned over, resting your elbow on your leg and your chin in your hand. Your low-cut shirt was revealing everything that you did and didn’t want the man to see. You were disgusted with yourself, but this had been the plan from the start. Men like Boss revealed the most when they were being seduced. Tom’s sad eyes were at the forefront of your mind, but you couldn’t stop now. This had been the plan from the start. 

Boss smiled, pleased with the situation, and rolled his chair closer to his desk to where you were sitting, “I see.”

You had had plenty of meaningless kisses in your lifetime, especially when you were in high school. You had gone on numerous dates solely for the promise of a free meal. Boss’s lips on yours was the least meaningful interaction that you had ever encounter. His intention was full of sexual drive, while yours was just another part of the job. It was not Y/N who was cheating, it was Rose, and you needed to keep that distinction for your own sanity. 

His hands were on your body, and you were separating yourself from the situation, viewing yourself as an outside source looking in. This wasn’t you, it was someone else. Eyes squeezed shut, too much fear to open them. You had gone from an exhilarating sexual experience to one that you knew you would want to forget as soon as it was over. 

As he kissed your neck, as unwanted chills spilled down your spine, you took the opportunity to peak at the computer screen that thankfully hadn’t fallen asleep. You winced when you felt his teeth, knowing that his mark would be visible, but you squinted as he continued, attempting to see a name, a location, anything. 

He was on your collarbone now, and you were memorizing an address that was labeled “Secondary Pickup Location.” 

“What are you…” Boss had stopped, noticing your inactivity, but when your attention snapped back to him, it was too late. You had been caught focusing on the wrong thing. His eyes turned dark, the blue in them suddenly no longer charming, but terrifying. You were panicking now, ashamed of your stupidity. You could have waited. You could have done the deed and let him sleep. This was it. Mission blown. Cover destroyed.

Only your cover, though. Tom was still out there, unaware, and you weren’t going to let that change. He was smart, if Boss killed you in his office, he wouldn’t give himself up. He would wait until the day was done, and then report you killed in action. He may care about you, but you would do the same if you were him.

And you trusted him. You had to trust him. 

It was almost mystical, the way everything had changed. You had never seen yourself trusting Tom Holland. It took being put in this life-or-death scenario to come to the conclusion that trust was essential to this mission. If none of this had happened, you might have already gotten yourselves killed a lot sooner.

Your mind wandered because it hadn’t accepted your fate.

“A nark. You’re a fucking nark,” he lunged for you, but you rolled out of his grip and took a swing to his jaw, making contact, feeling both the skin on his face and the skin on your knuckle break. You had a ring on, but that only did so much. 

“Oh yeah. Definitely a fucking undercover cop. I should have known,” this time he was faster than you expected a man of his size to be, and he caught a clump of your wig in his fist. He had gone to yank your actual hair, but instead, this ripped both the wig and the pins keeping it in place off of your head, your natural hair color falling out of place and across your eyes. 

“Bitch. You really thought you could fool us, huh?” he kicked his heel into your nose, the crack echoing in your head, blood spilling down the front of your mouth. Ouch. 

“I had you fooled, bastard,” you tried to shake the dizziness away to stand, but this time he kicked your chest, knocking the wind out of you, and throwing you back another foot. 

He gripped your real hair, pulling his face to you, “Is he in on it. Don’t you fucking lie to me, either, I’ll know if you’re lying.” 

No, he really wouldn’t.

“He’s not! He’s not. He was a customer, he talked about his application for this job at the restaurant while we flirted. It was where we got the plan.” 

“Who?”

“NYPD. I work for the SVU.” 

Lies lies lies. He was eating up your lies like candy, thank goodness.

“Well then. Let’s see if he agrees.” 

Picked up by your hair, again, the door was kicked open, a surprise flurry of heads jerking to the direction of the sound. 

“Johnny, mate, it seems your little plaything has a problem.”

Tom’s eyes remained neutral, he looked to you, then to Boss, “She wasn’t coming onto you was she, sir? I promise she can be a bit of a flirt, but-”

“She’s a nark, Johnny.”

He feigned surprise, “What?”

“SVU cop. Sound familiar?”

“SV...what?”

“Special Victims Unit, trying to take us down. I thought you might be her partner but…” he tossed you down, forcing you to your hands and knees. You felt the impact of his foot on your stomach, but you had started to try and see all of the pain from the outside like you had when his hands had been begging for you. This was someone else’s pain, Rose’s pain, not your own. 

“It looks like your the one who’s as dumb as a doornail. She had you hook, line, and sinker, Johnny Bruno. How’s that make you feel?”

“Pissed off, Boss.” 

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Show this bitch who’s the doornail,” Tom stood and walked over to you, lifting you to your feet by your shirt, clutching your chin, inches away from having you in a chokehold, “We’ll be right back, boss.” 

He threw you into Boss’s office for good measure, but when the door shut, you felt yourself running into his arms and melting into tears. You had been trained for situations like this, but now face to face with your worst nightmare, it was hard to recollect your training.

“Y/N, stop crying. Hey, Y/N, it’s okay,” there were strokes on your back, but they weren’t doing anything to stop the heaving sobs, the fear, your inevitable fate.

“Tom. I’m done. Stay in this. Take care of your next partner. Okay?”

“Y/N, we can get you out of this, I’m sure the agency has already sent backup-”

“This isn’t the police, Tom. They won’t compromise the mission to save my life. Don’t you remember everything we were briefed on?” 

He cursed. 

“Punch me, in the face. I can’t go back looking the same.” 

“I’m not going to-”

“Yes, you are. Fucking punch me in the face, Tom.” 

Impact, white, a sea of stars, and when you went to open your eyes, only one would open. He had caused it to swell shut, and while it wasn’t the most pleasant feeling, it was precisely what needed to happen, but it would menial compared to what was next. 

“Tom, look at me,” you had stopped crying now, your training was starting to reinstate itself, and you did everything possible to clear your head. You took his face in your hands, wiping a short tear off his cheek, “it has to be you.”  

“What?”

“You have to do it. It will keep your cover.”

“No!” he pulled you off him, looking insulted by your statement, “Y/N, we don’t kill our own.” 

“Tom!” you wanted to yell, but his safety was too much at risk, so you stuck to a harsh whisper, “Please. Don’t let them take the most valuable thing I have from me. I don’t want it to be them. Insist on it being you. Please.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can.”

With another hug and a kiss on the forehead, he cursed again, then shoved you back out for the rest of the boys to see, each of them looking pleased with his work. You took a few aching steps towards them, before buckling, letting your knees drop to the floor. There was no spot on you that didn’t hurt, but fortunately, that wouldn’t last too long.

“Execution style, nice choice, Narky,” Hardy approached you, then spat in your face, you wiped your eyes, disgusted, and spat right back at him, which only gained you a kick in the head.

Boss had his gun to your head as soon as you sat back up on your knees, “Ready for lights out?” 

Silence. You waited. He had to. Goddamnit, he had to.

“Boss, let me.” 

Finally.

“Bruno? Not going to lie, not what I expected. You ever kill someone before?”

He didn’t say anything as he pulled the gun from Boss’s hand, giving him a dark look, then refocusing it on you.

“I love you, Johnny.” 

“Don’t say another word to me.” 

“My lies were only for your own good.”

“I’m not a fan of games, Nark.” 

He was speaking to you, in code. Your final conversation.

“I know you aren’t,” you spoke softly.

The gun was pressed into your temple now, Tom standing tall above you. Time was slowing, and all you saw was everything flashing ahead of you. The glass breaking in your childhood home. Then, going to the hospital for a detox you hadn’t known you needed, a result of the meth lingering in that same childhood home. There you were, arresting the Magic Man, signing your contract with the agency, being assigned to work with Tom Holland, something you had dreaded at the time. You saw your reflection in the mirror after trying on that red wig, Tom’s complaints about letting his hair fall naturally, the daily drives to the warehouse.

Your one and only night together, the fact that he wanted to see you again. 

Did he want to, or were you just another woman for his repertoire? You would never know the answer no matter how much you craved it. The question that had been plaguing you since you started this mission. You had countlessly proved yourself to lay your life on the line for him. At this point, you would practically do anything for him. Now, you were even willing to die for him. 

Was Tom Holland a good man?

Yes, I would die for you baby, but would you do the same?

.

UNDER THE ROSE

by SpideyPeach

.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

M A S T E R L I S T

T A G L I S T

@plushparker @spideyboipete @starkstower @darlintom @bilkyrie @spideymood @saturn-aka-six @starlightfound @pvnk-bivch @gamoraisbi @xxtomxo @ophcelia @the-queen-procrastinator @trustfundparker @miraclesoflove @maybemona @aesthetic-png @galacticalstarcat @fame-works-quicker @honeymoonparker @loserhollandask @quillaluna @cheesecakebagels @misspepper07 @thelostverse @legendsofwholock @morbiddanvers @fangirl-trash-things @particularspider @applenter @the-lost-fairy-tale @mrskitchenboy @mintyoohoochapstick @newtimewriter @ohheyitsem  @nixphomaniac @juuuless @emilymarie0422 @dreamyyholland @gioandreolli @kendrama-of-the-woodland-realm @littlebookbengal @pineapplwz @i-read-too-much-fanfiction @starksparker @stuckonspidey @lostinspidey @laureharrier @hollandroos @wazzupmrstark @tominhoodies @spider-babes @inthe-gardenofevil @softspideyboy @mcuparkers @hillsnholland @hawkinsholland @poetrypeter @screamholland @natalia-rushman @sillyscissorsnerdsoul @officialbig-mo @spidxrparkxr @athenastaar @iloveyou3000morgan @cravingmusic

[miss-noo-na]

Business Meeting ( I.M Mafia!AU)

Title: Business Meeting

Featuring: I.M (Monsta X) x Reader

Rating: Mature. Dom mafia boss I.M, some rough sex on a desk.

Note: This piece was commissioned by a lovely follower ❤ Check my bio for a link to get your own commission!

You pressed your clammy hands down over your knees, smoothing the hem of your skirt in a nervous motion. He would be here any minute, and you had no idea what he wanted.

Despite how young he was, Changkyun had moved up the ranks quickly. He had a cool head, and an eye for details. He was difficult to rile up and he knew how to place his bets to his benefit. This earned him respect, and a leadership role. You had seen him around, but you had never spoken to him. It would be fatal if you even dreamed of it.

And maybe you had. Those dark eyes, relaxed yet firm stance, the hint of a smile now and then that told you there was so much more going on inside that head than you could imagine.

But your father, and in fact all the men in your family, didn’t belong to his group. They weren’t enemies, but they weren’t friends, either. Competition might be the best way to describe it, and a few scuffles in the street had made some members less than friendly with others. You were told to stay far away.

Out of the blue, you had received a call from an unrecognizable voice. The man let you know Changkyun had wanted to meet, and he had wanted to do so alone. He had “things” to discuss, and the man promised there was no threat to you or your family. It was a huge risk and a giant red flag, but you felt compelled to say yes. Part of it was rebellion, sick of your family trying to control you and everyone you interacted with. The other part was curiosity, and the little somersault in your stomach when you wondered why he’d want to see you, specifically.

You had agreed to meet in an office in one of your father’s buildings. It was a Sunday, everyone was off and the place was empty, which you had assured his man of. Around 3pm, there was a wrapping on the door, and your legs felt weak as you stood and approached it, cracking it open.

He stood there with a burlier man behind him, and when he saw you he smiled, but it bordered on more of a smirk.

“Good evening, miss.” He said kindly, nodding to you and you greeted him back. He then glanced over his shoulder at the man.

“He’ll be keeping watch, if you don’t mind.”

You shook your head and invited him inside.

As you went to sit, he shuffled around the room casually, though his eyes were intent.

“It’s not bugged, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You commented, and he chuckled.

“You can’t ever be too sure.”

“Then take a closer look, I don’t mind.” You shrugged, because it was true. The only cameras were in the hallways and at all the entrances and exits. No funny business went on here, it was all legitimate. Your family did their dirty work elsewhere.

He looked around until he was satisfied, then took a seat across from you.

“What’s the nature of your visit, sir?” You asked, trying to sound as professional as possible.

“Changkyun is just fine, and it’s a bit difficult to explain.”

You waited patiently, crossing your legs and trying to keep your face neutral, despite the fact you were thinking about how attractive he really was, his hair falling next to one eye, his button-up shirt hugging his body, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his deep voice sending a chill through you.

“I got a tip.” He said then, and you pulled yourself out of your thoughts.

“Oh?” Was all you could muster.

“Apparently you have some information that could be of use to me”

You let out a laugh, but quickly corrected yourself.

“I’m afraid you have the wrong person, I don’t involve myself in these matters. I just have the unfortunate luck of being related to this family.”

It wasn’t entirely true. You worked for one of your father’s fronts, it was a way to pay the bills and it made him happy. You were also told things by your brother about what went on in the streets, whether you wanted to hear them or not.

“No offense, but my sources aren’t liars and their evidence is pretty compelling.”

You swallowed hard, a mixture of excitement and fear at the way he spoke to you. Your nervous energy propelled you from your seat, and you turned toward the desk to shuffle through some papers.

“I don’t know anything about your sources, or what information I could possibly have. I’m very sorry you came all the way over here for nothing.”

You heard movement, and figured he was heading toward the door. Instead, you felt his presence behind you, and when you turned, he was much closer than you expected, you almost gasped.

“Actually, it’s not of much concern to me. I was asked to check it out, so I did because it looks good when I listen to my boys.” He explained, and you furrowed your brow at him, while also trying to ignore the fact he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“So why are you here, then?” You inquired, though maybe you should’ve just let it go. His visit was simply for show, so his underlings felt like their opinion was valued, that didn’t mean he had to stay.

“To be honest,” His eyes moved, from your face down your body, and his tongue swiped his lower lip as he openly stared. “I heard a couple other things that had me intrigued.”

You backed yourself up into the desk and tried not to let it show that you were in any way affected by his words. “Such as?”

“That you were beautiful,” He said, meeting your eyes again, then reached out to trail a fingertip lightly down your side. “That you had a body that doesn’t quit.”

Your felt your skin flush from head to toe, and you reached down to hold onto the edges of the desk.

“And that sweet little disposition.” He smirked. “So loyal, following all your daddy’s orders.”

You wanted to be offended, to stare him down and tell him to get out. However, your arousal was stirring up your emotions and making you think other things. He had you under his charmed spell.

He leaned in, his breath ghosting over your face. “You would be so much fun to break in.”

With that, his lips fell onto yours, nipping at them, before he let go and a smile curled over them. It was like an invitation, and he was waiting for your response.

Even though your rational brain tried to fight through the fog, it was overpowered. His condescending words only made you resent your position even more, and you wanted to do something for yourself for once. You kissed him back.

The kiss was messy and lustful, his tongue making its way past your lips as his hands gripped your hips and pulled you in. You felt wrong for this, but so right at the same time.

You yelped when he dropped his hands behind you and lifted you up onto the desk. He detached his mouth and laughed low.

“You better keep quiet, I’ve got someone outside who can probably hear everything.” He said, but there was a snicker in his tone, like he wanted him to hear it.

He slid his hands up your thighs, pushing your skirt up with it and you braced yourself on the desk. His hands were smooth and warm against your skin and you lost a little bit of your breath the higher he went. When he had the fabric bunched up around your hips, he pushed himself between your legs, where you felt him hard through his pants.

“I know we’re going a little fast, sweetheart,” He started, speaking in a syrupy voice. “But you don’t seem to mind, do you?”

You found yourself shaking your head, parting your knees even more. He took the opportunity to slip a hand between them, pressing his fingers over your clothed center, feeling that you were already wet and soaking through your panties.

“Oh, you don’t mind at all.”

He tore them down and off your legs before he worked on undoing his belt, and you watched with rapt attention as he pulled himself free and positioned his hard length at your entrance. He wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you forward, kissing you hard as he sank himself inside you, and you moaned against his lips.

“They didn’t tell me how hot and tight you were.” He mumbled as he came out of the kiss and started to fuck you slowly. “None of them have felt you like this, have they?”

You couldn’t speak, biting into your bottom lip to suppress your moans, holding the edges of the desk in a white-knuckled grip.

“It’s okay if you make a little noise.” He said, punctuating his point with a hard thrust forward. Your mouth fell open into a cry of pleasure and he smiled.

“That’s it, that’s what I like to hear.”

He leaned forward and attached his mouth to your neck, and you brought one hand up to his shoulder, scratching against the starchy fabric of his dress shirt.

He brought his ravaging kisses up to your ear and breathed, “How does that feel, babydoll?” before another hard thrust met the back of your thighs.

“So good,” You mewled, eyes threatening to close. “Don’t stop.”

He let out a gruff laugh. “Oh sweetness, I don’t intend to.”

With that, he picked up the pace, his harder thrusts now insistent. The wood of the old desk made a creaking noise as he pounded you into it, the legs of it shuffling back every now and then. You held onto him for dear life, bracing yourself against the top of it with the other arm, and all the while he rasped dirty words into your ear.

One of his hands came up to the front buttons of your dress and tore it open, some of them popping off in the process.  He massaged one breast before pulling the cup of your bra down to expose you, and took the nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it until it was hard, then nibbling it with the edges of his teeth. Your head fell back as curses and whimpers fell out of you, unable to keep quiet at all now.

The friction of his closeness was pushing you toward the edge, but you weren’t sure if it was enough to send you over. Your cheeks were flushed and you were begging for it, not even knowing who you were anymore.

“Please, please.” You gasped, and caught his devious smile, though he was sweating now and exerting as much force as possible.

“What?” He asked through his own shallow breath. “What do you want?”

“I’m so...close. I need to-” You could hardly form the words, your body bounced against him and the desk with every jerk of his hips.

“Need to what? Come all over this cock?” He asked with narrowed eyes, and you moaned out even louder.

He was getting there himself, voice straining and lungs heaving. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt it mounting, but before you could fall he suddenly pulled out. You almost cried out in protest, until you felt his heavy, hot length against you. He rubbed himself back and forth over your clit and your body tensed up. You gripped him harder, pulling him against you with your legs as your orgasm hit you.

Even through the haze of pleasure you felt and heard him groan deep into your neck as something wet and hot fell against your skin as he came on you, rubbing himself and his fluids into you as you both pulsed.

You trembled as he pulled away, tucking himself back into his pants and fixing the belt. You felt sticky and exhausted, dropping your feet back onto the ground and trying to adjust your dress, pushing it back down your legs and doing up what you could on the front of it. Underneath you were still coated in him, and the thought made you blush.

You kept your head down, mortified by your own behavior, but felt Changkyun tip your chin up. When he made you look at him, he pecked you on the lips.

“It was more than I could have hoped for.” He grinned, which just made you more self-conscious but flattered all the same.

He started toward the door and you wanted to say something else, but nothing concrete came to mind. As he opened the door, he paused and glanced back.

“I’ll call sometime next week to set up another meeting.” He said, winking at you before closing the door behind him.

[mellicose]

Mirror

A Peter Vincent (Fright Night) x Lucian (Underworld) Fic

Rating: Mature, for MMF erotica

Word Count: 4870

Summary: Lucian, Stella, and Peter have a some fun together after one of Peter’s gigs.

Note: This is absolute crack. Like, thirsty grown ass woman fandom crack p@rn. I’ve never written full-on m|m before in my nearly 15 years of writing high-brow erotica, so you’ll have to excuse me if it’s not 1000% accurate or perfect or blahblah, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t delicious to write. If you like my other stuff, this will have the same flavor, except with 100% more pen!s.

Anyway, on with the show.

“You’re eager for another go, aren’t you?” Lucian said, sitting on one of the fancy leather sofas in Peter’s penthouse.

“Hush, pup,” she said, smiling as she poured herself another whiskey. “Anyway, it’s your fault. I’m only a mirror-”

“Watch your mouth,” he said, but his smile didn’t fade. She snapped her teeth at him, and winked. 

“Who cares if he hears? He doesn’t know,” she said, sitting at his feet and sipping the liquor.

“Maybe,” he said, running his heavily ringed fingers through her long hair. “Why you sitting down there?”

“I like it down here, with you. It’s a stellar view,” she said, nuzzling his knee. His leather-clad knee squeaked. She bit down playfully, but harder than she would ever dare with a human. He growled at her, and his hand became a fist in her hair.

“Watch yourself, witch. I’m no dog,” he said, his pupils grew until there was only a small ring of white. A tear rolled down her cheek from the pain, but she was smiling.

“No, you’re not,” she whispered. “That’s why I adore you.” Her eyes were going cloudy. She knelt and got between his legs, although his fist was still in her hair, pulling painfully. Her hands moved up his thighs and met at his groin. “Oop. What’s this?” She bit her lip.

His grip loosened, then fell away. “You humans are an odd lot,” he said. He traced the tear line down to her parted lips, and slid his finger inside. Again, she bit.

“You’re more vicious than some in my pack,” he said, and replaced his finger with the meaty bit of palm right underneath his thumb. She play-growled and bit down harder. He leaned forward, staring and feeling her arousal. Her tongue laved the red teeth marks on his flesh. “Craven,” he said softly.

“Me?“ she said, undoing the laces of his pants. She raked her fingers down the silky hair on his lower belly.

He leaned back, letting her touch him. “You don’t dare bite down.”

“I’ll draw blood,” she said, kissing up from between his nipples to his neck.

“You afraid of what might happen if you did?” he said. Her kisses stopped, but her mouth remained on his neck.

“I’ll become one of you,” she said into his skin. “Would you really want that?” She raised her head to look at him.

He laughed with his whole body and hugged her. “Bloody hell! You’d take over, and what would become of me?” he said. He kissed her all over her smiling face.

“Aren’t you two adorbs,” Peter said from the dark. He walked in, wearing a short robe that left little to the imagination.

“Uhuh,” she said, sitting on Lucian’s lap. She rested her head on his shoulder, and both of them watched as Peter crossed the room to pour himself a drink. They sighed in unison.

“So you-” he said as he slammed some god awful radioactive green concoction, “-you two are fuckbuddies?”

Her and Lucian looked at each other, and chuckled. “Whyever would you come to that conclusion?” she said as she licked her finger and played with Lucian’s exposed nipple.

“Alright, alright. I thought she was a new part of your envoy,” he said, shrugging as he took another shot. He scratched at his exposed chest, which was clean and devoid of sigils. Again, they stared.

“You’re not completely wrong,” Lucian said slowly, as his eyes moved down to where the sash barely held the robe together.

“Whatever,” Peter said. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand your weird immortal sex lives,” he said, running his fingers through his freshly washed short hair.

“I’m not immortal,” she chirped, but the men were watching each other intently.

“And yet you insist on consorting with us,” he said, running his hand up her thigh and underneath her skirt. She gasped softly and spread her legs. Now, Peter stared.

“With her, yeah,” Peter said without preamble, and came closer. “Where the devil did you find her? This afternoon was wild.” He smirked.

“It’s not your concern,” Lucian said. Her head lolled on his shoulder as his hand moved rhythmically underneath her miniskirt. Peter took a few steps closer. Lucian raised his face and sniffed. “Can you smell that, Peter?”

“What?” he said quietly as Lucian’s other hand moved underneath her tank top to squeeze her breast. He licked his lips, his eyes locked to Lucian’s.

“I know you consume vampire blood so your senses are somewhat heightened, but you can’t imagine what a human woman’s arousal smells like when you’re truly immortal,” Lucian said. He held up the hand that had been underneath her skirt, and his fingers shone in the low light. Clear strings of arousal dripped from between his fingers.

“Don’t stop,” she said, tugging at Lucian’s arm. 

Peter cursed softly and fell to his knees, his mouth watering.

“It’s better than drink, and more narcotic than drugs,” he said, and ran his slick fingers across Peter’s lips. Peter groaned and sucked her off his fingers, eyes half closed with lust. She caressed him, smiling dreamily. “But you know that,” Lucian said indulgently, pulling his now-clean middle finger out of Peter’s mouth.

“More,” Peter said, staring hungrily at her. Lucian whispered something in her ear, and she moved so she faced Peter. Lucian spread his thighs, and her legs opened wide. Her skirt rode up to her hips, exposing her swollen, smooth pussy.

“Fuck,” Peter said softly, caressing up her thighs. “You know me too well.” Just as he darted forward to taste, Lucian pushed him back hard enough to make him roll on the carpet. He hated when they flexed their muscle like that - especially in front of a woman. It was embarrassing.

“Not so fast, slave.”

“I’m not your slave,” Peter said sullenly, sitting up. His robe was twisted around his slim frame, and he was fully exposed. Unlike Lucian, he was clean shaven.

“Perhaps not to us, but to the bloodsuckers…” his eyes settled between Peter’s legs. He was still half-hard. “You can’t refuse a woman, can you?”

Peter stood up and shed his robe. Lucian’s lips twitched with mirth. The vampire blood did him well, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it. He eyed Peter’s hard belly, and the tempting curve of his ass. It did him very well. She stirred in his lap, her hands busy pulling his cock out of his pants.

Peter watched as she stroked Lucian’s cock to life - it was thick and throbbing out of a nest of black hair. 

“I’m always game for sexy fun, but I’m not …” he wriggled his finger at her stroking hand. Her legs were still parted enough to give him a choice view, and she was beginning to drip with anticipation.

“You’re not what?” Lucian said, pulling her shirt over her head. Her nipples hardened in the cool air, and he slowly traced circles on her areolas. 

“I don’t suck cock,” Peter said flatly.

That’s not what I heard Lucian thought, but he held his tongue. She giggled.

“Of course not,” Lucian said. “We’ll share her, as a sign of peace and friendship. Nothing more.” Again, she positioned herself with her legs wide open on his lap. Although he licked his lips again, this time Peter didn’t fall to his knees.

“Don’t you want it?” she said, running a finger up her slit.

“What do you want?” Peter said, looking at Lucian. “You obviously didn’t only come here for this.” He looked funny, nude and semi-aroused, yet with his arms crossed.

Lucian massaged her thighs, and her belly tightened with sensation. Her breasts jiggled as she reached behind her to caress him.

“As ever and always, a little bit of information,” he said. 

“I told her everything I know,” he said, pointing at Stella. He bent to pick up his robe, but Lucian growled low in his throat. The sound was distinctly non-human, and he dropped it and held up his hands.

“I mean it. She knows what I know,” Peter said. “We’re friends, right?”

“Friends,” Lucian said. He bit his lip, flashing a fang. “Sure.” His eyes moved over Peter’s body.

“I can’t tell whether you’re horny or hungry, man,” Peter said, speaking his thoughts aloud. Sweat beaded his brow. He was starting to feel lightheaded. More interestingly, he didn’t mind Lucian’s eyes on him. Was it narcissism, or lust? He was too foggy to tell. 

“Man,” Lucian repeated, chuckling. ”Perhaps pleasure will knock something loose in that vamp blood-addled brain of yours,” he said finally. “Come and have a taste of Stella.”

“Stella,” Peter said, smirking. “You okay with that, beautiful?”

“Touch me, Peter,” she said, beckoning to him. He knelt again, and buried his face between her legs. She was musky and sensitive and delicious, and his tongue moved haphazardly from her opening to her clit and back. Lucian slapped the top of his head. Peter grunted into her flesh. Lucian pulled him away by the hair.

“Fuck, what are you about?”

“Don’t you find Stella deeply desirable?” he said patiently.

“Yeah,” Peter said, a bit disoriented. The top of his head hurt from Lucian’s grip.

“Then do it properly,” he said. “This isn’t just about your base desires.”

“Alright. Just … let go.” It came out less aggressively than he wanted. Lucian nodded. His eyes followed as he bowed his head to lick again. This time, he gently spread her lips and licked her swollen clit, then circled it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered. He watched as Peter swirled his tongue on her overheated folds and sighed. What fragile beauties humans are. So given over. Unburdened with the curse of forever.

Lucian’s eyes followed Peter’s every move intently, and his cock swelled and pressed in the cleft of her ass and very near where Peter’s mouth worked. The tip of his cock nudged right underneath her opening, and she began to gyrate her hips to stimulate him. Peter thought it was solely for him, and he moaned and slid a finger inside her, then gasped and pulled away. His wrist was streaked with precum.

“Don’t stop,” she said, her hands in Peter’s hair. Lucian’s kohl-rimmed eyes were questioning. His cock twitched underneath her ass, preternaturally thick. The purple tip of it contrasted with her pink. It wasn’t an unpleasant sight. She shifted her hips, and the crown of it nudged between her lips, where her wetness and his saliva had made her slick. Again, he looked up at Lucian. His hand was on her belly, splayed. Offering.

“You want to watch,” Lucian said, amused. Stella tipped her face up to kiss the corner of Lucian’s mouth.

“Let him do as he pleases. I want you inside me,” she said. Lucian looked at her affectionately and licked the tip of her nose.

Peter’s cock strained against his belly. He stroked it and groaned at his own touch. He was already aching.

“Do it,” he said, his voice hoarse with lust. “Fuck her.”

“Crass,” Lucian said, then canted his hips to slide inside her. All three of them sighed together as the broad tip of his cock stretched her, and she began to ride him, legs spread wide for Peter’s gaze.

“Does it feel good?” Peter asked, leaning over to fondle her breasts.

“Better than heaven,” she said.

“Naughty girl,” Lucian whispered, and kissed her. Peter watched as their tongues darted in and out of their lips, and his own mouth watered. He looked down, where he was balls deep in her, unmoving.

“If you’re not gonna do any work …” he said, and kissed her flat belly, licking whorls closer and closer to her cunt, which smelled almost unbelievably enticing.

Lucian ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. He moaned and moved up to suck on her tits, thinking it was her hands touching him so tenderly. When he looked up and noticed it was Lucian, he jumped back, cheeks red.

“Hey …” he said, but softly. Stella began to ride Lucian’s cock again, and his hands moved to her breasts.

“This is a rare pleasure,” he said softly against her temple as he fucked figure eights into her. Peter watched, bemused. He had not been able to tell that it was Lucian’s touch, and not hers. And he liked it.

Stella extended her arms to Peter. “Kiss me. I want to feel your mouth on me,” she said breathlessly.

He looked at Lucian, questioning. Lucian nodded, and he fell on her, kissing her as passionately as Lucian did. Her mouth tasted vaguely of berries and blood, and instead of putting him off, it inflamed him. His cock rubbed up against the slick insides of her thighs, and she gasped.

“I want you, Peter,” she said into his kisses. She pulled him to her, fingers digging into his ass. “Give it to me.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and thrust home … and his cock slid down her slit and bumped into Lucian’s as he pulled out. Again, he froze. Stella kissed his temple.

“It’s okay. Do it now. Please.”

He looked into her eyes and relented, groaning as he slid easily inside her. Even as pleasure made his hairs stand on end, he was aware of Lucian’s presence. Her delicious warmth, her softness was his doing. He’d aroused her, and stretched her open for his quick, deep thrusts. 

She writhed against Lucian, crying out. Lucian didn’t dare fuck her that hard. She knew there was good reason for his restraint - too much aggression, and even a Lycan as old as he was could turn. She loved him, but she missed a deep, hard dicking.

Peter felt her open up and gave her everything, face tilted up to the ceiling. He felt something in her. Something special. She was a witch - that was obvious - but she hadn’t clearly stated what kind. He sucked the sweaty flesh of her neck and ground into her. It didn’t matter. All pussy was good pussy to him. He felt … surrounded. Held up. Something pressed into his perineum, and at first he assumed it was her, fondling him, until he felt both of her hands on his hips.

He stopped mid-thrust and opened his eyes. Both Lucian and Stella were sweaty, eyelids heavy with pleasure.

“Why’d you stop?” Lucian said. He canted his hips, and Peter felt a pleasurable pressure against his perineum. It was his cock, sliding deliciously against him as he fucked Stella.

“Oh wow,” Peter said, withdrawing and moving back. “Shit. Fuck.”

“What is it, beautiful?” Stella said, reaching out to him. “Come back.”

“You were … on me,” Peter said, pointing to Lucian’s cock. It was glossy with their mixed juices. “Man.”

“You must stop calling me that,” Lucian said, lifting Stella from his lap and standing up.

“I’ve done a spitroast, but I don’t know …” his voice trailed to nothing as Lucian unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside. His body was stocky, and strong, and his chest was covered in downy black hair. He pulled down his leathers and kicked them off. Stella sat and watched them both, the corners of her mouth twitching. Would it be that easy?

Lucian pulled the leather thong from his long black hair, and it cascaded free over his muscular shoulder. Peter whimpered.

“You were saying?” he said, holding his hand out for Stella.

“I was-” Peter rubbed his chest pensively. “-nothing important.”

Lucian picked up Stella, to her delight. They looked so free, and open, and happy. He wanted to be part of it. She cleared her throat.

“So, you gonna take us to bed, handsome?” Stella said.

He led them to the bedroom, which had floor-to ceiling glass. Vegas glimmered in a thousand colors all around them as Lucian lay her on the bed.

“It looks like you,” he said as he lay beside her, on his side.

“Can people see us, if they really look?” Stella said, guiding Lucian’s hand between her legs.

“Nobody cares. Everyone’s fucking,” Peter said, crawling in beside them.

Lucian smiled. “We’re not.”

Peter held his breath, but Stella pushed him on his back and mounted him. His toes curled, and she bounced above him with a smile. She leaned down to kiss him.

“Gods, you’re a beautiful freak,” she whispered, and slid her tongue into his mouth.

A freak. He supposed he was. He wasn’t supposed to be alive, yet he was literally strengthened by the blood of his enemies.

Lucian got on his knees to kiss her, and they moaned in unison as he gently caressed her clit as she moved on top of him. Peter opened his eyes. Lucian’s cock was hard and wet, bouncing gently with Stella’s movements. He grabbed her waist, and it slid hotly against his forearm.

He blushed, for the first time in fifty years. Stella took Peter’s hand and guided it to Lucian’s cock. 

He squeezed for a moment - it throbbed, and it was so hot - Lucian stopped kissing her to look - he groaned as Peter’s fist moved toward the tip - Peter’s body tingled and his cock twitched inside Stella, who cooed with pleasure - 

He moved his hand away. It was slippery, and he squeezed it shut. It was still warm from Lucian’s flesh. 

Stella rolled off him and lay back, legs wide apart. “Come taste him, Lucian,” she said, and surprisingly, he obeyed, lying on his stomach and licking her wetness from her thighs, then her mound …

Peter stared, and stroked himself. Lucian looked so given over, so content to lap at her. He crawled closer, sniffing. Without stopping his licking, Lucian pulled him between her legs. Their bodies were pressed together, their legs tangled, Peter’s cock pressed against Lucian’s muscular hip.

Lucian looked in his eyes as his tongue circled her swollen clit. His tongue moved down to her opening and slid inside. She sighed and ran her fingers through Peter’s hair, coaxing him closer.

“I want to feel both your tongues,” she said, spreading wider.

Peter breathed sharply, then bowed his head. His cheek was pressed against Lucian’s bristly one as they darted their tongues in her folds. She moaned loudly as Lucian softly licked at her clit, and Peter muscled his tongue inside her.

“Fuck!” she cried out as Peter withdrew as slid two fingers inside her. Now both of them licked her clit. Peter’s heart was pounding. Lucian’s musky breath warmed his cheek as their tongues began to tangle against her. He felt a hand, slippery and strong, move up this thigh as he finally dared to respond to Lucian’s kiss. He closed his eyes and let him suck on his swollen lips-

Peter pulled away and looked at Lucian, whose blue eyes had gone deliciously dark. His hand was on his hip, caressing.

“I, uh … um …” he said, but Lucian pulled him on top of him with a grunt and kissed him. Peter was dizzy, but his cock was rock-hard and throbbing against Lucian’s hip. They were breathtaking, his kisses. Deep, and hungry. He was done pretending.

Peter raked his fingers in Lucian’s thick black hair, which smelled improbably of amber. It was exhilarating, kissing a man’s neck - bristled, thick - and finding it utterly enticing. His hypermasculine scent only made him desperate, and he kissed down to his chest and bit like he watched Stella do. Lucian groaned and caressed his shoulders. 

He didn’t dare look up, so he moved down to his belly, both soft and hard, and stopped when he felt Lucian’s hard cock pressed against his neck. It pulsed insistently as his own heart beat, and Peter realized he could smell him now. He wondered whether that’s what he smelled like to someone else, and whether they felt that same quick-growing hunger to taste the closer their mouths got to his cock.

His lips pressed right where Lucian’s hair started, but he was still. 

Stella licked his ear. “Let’s do it together, honey. I’m gasping for him,” she said, and gently nudged him aside for access. She grasped Lucian’s cock and gave it a long lick from base to tip with a broad tongue, staring into Peter’s eyes. She licked the tip, and a clear string of precum extended from her tongue to her lips, and she leaned over to kiss Peter, working the precum into his tongue. Peter groaned and hugged her close, and his hungry saliva wet both their chins. When he withdrew, he saw that Stella was slowly jerking Lucian’s cock. She stopped and slid her precumslick fingers in Peter’s mouth, then reached down to stroke him off.

“Isn’t it too good?” she whispered as she moved down Peter’s body. “You should try it.”

Lucian looked down on him, his eyes cloudy with desire.“I want to feel your pretty mouth on it,” he said. Peter swallowed hard, and tugged on Stella’s shoulders.

Stella wrapped her lips around his cock, and Peter shivered. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive head of his cock as her hands caressed his balls.

Lucian reached down to stroke himself, and a clear bead of precum gathered at the head of his cock. Peter dared to caress up a muscular thigh. He had sucked cock before, but not out of desire - just necessity. He knew how to make it last long, or make him finish quick, but his heart had never, ever been in it. Stella moaned and sucked noisily at him, but the pleasure seemed far away compared to Lucian’s gaze as he gently pressed the tip of his cock against his parted lips.

“Please,” he said softly. Peter grabbed the base of his cock and slowly took him in his mouth. His musk set off a depth charge of lust deep in his belly, and sweat sheened his body as he sucked only the tip of his cock with soft lips, laving the tender frenulum with every bob of his head. Lucian cried out and spread his legs, and his heels dug into the mattress with pleasure. He felt himself gently led to Lucian’s balls.

“Don’t forget them,” Stella whispered hotly in his ear, and he obeyed happily, licking, then sucking one, then the other. It was utterly delicious to feel Lucian shiver above him as he worked his fist on his salivawet cock to keep it throbbing for what came next.

What came next?

Lucian seemed to read his mind, and he caressed him and pulled him up to kiss him. He shamelessly worked his musk deep into Lucian’s mouth with his tongue, and they rolled around the huge bed, clawing and caressing, as Peter dry humped Lucian’s belly, eager for release.

Lucian rolled on his belly and raised his ass off the bed.

“Come, beautiful. Finish in me.”

“You got lube?” Stella asked from somewhere close. 

“Bedside table. Drawer.” Peter said, and fell on Lucian, kissing and sucking on the pale flesh of his neck and shoulders. Lucian reached around to caress Peter’s slim thighs. The bottle of lube bounced against them and landed on the bed. Peter grabbed it and squeezed it liberally between Lucian’s cheeks as his other hand sought his cock underneath them.

“Don’t be gentle,” Lucian said, his voice hoarse with need.

“I rarely am,” Peter said, and he thrust inside him. They both shivered with the delicious squeeze, and for a few seconds, Peter was still, taking in Lucian’s tight heat. He felt him twitch around his length, and he sank his teeth into his neck and fucked him. Lucian parried each thrust with deep grunts. 

Lucian was delectable. He was the perfect mix of butch and giving, and Peter’s whole body thrummed with desire. It grew and grew, with Lucian’s kisses, and the feel of his muscular movements underneath him, guiding him deeper and deeper into that improbably silky heat. Peter’s fingers raked down Lucian’s hairy chest, and he gently squeezed his erect nipples as he licked the shell of his ear.

“Harder,” Lucian whispered, rolling his hips into Peter’s thrusts. Lucianis cock rubbed fruitlessly against the bed. He didn’t want to stroke himself, and take away from the sensations Peter was giving him. How long had he wanted to feel him, fully, on his own? How many mirrors had he sent to give him a paltry taste of what he craved so completely?

Stella was his lucky charm, he knew it from the start-

Peter whimpered, and his muscles tightened against him.

“Gonna come-” he said, thrusting slow and deep, his leg locked around Lucian’s.

“I want you to come,” Lucian said, raising his head to kiss him.

“Inside?” Peter said, not stopping. He gripped Lucian’s shoulders and rolled his hips into him.

“No. On my cock,” Lucian said. “When you’re ready-”

Peter grunted and withdrew. “Now!” 

Lucian turned around quickly, but the first lashing of come still streaked his hip. Lucian sat up quickly and stroked every last twitch from him, and as Peter’s hot come spurted on him, he became fully hard again. 

Peter’s spent cock was still half hard as Lucian rubbed his come over himself and began to stroke.

“Your cock almost made me come. I’m so close,” Lucian said, gently caressing his balls as he worked his fist over his shaft.

“Let me,” Peter said, taking over, but after a few strokes he fell on the bed and took him in his mouth again, sucking, licking, and sliding two fingers in Lucian’s lubeslippery asshole. He raised his knees high as Peter stroked his shaft expertly and sucked on the head of his cock, his tongue a velvety friction on his frenulum that made him leak precum into Peter’s moaning mouth. 

“Gimme the real thing,” Peter said softly, and massaged Lucian’s prostate as his mouth worked on his cock. He groaned into Lucian’s pulsing flesh. He really wanted it. He wanted to taste his come. It made his throat flutter with a chuckle. He really was game for anything after a few drinks.

Lucian’s breaths were quick, and his hands were on Peter’s face, caressing.

“Almost …” he whimpered. “There. Yes-”

His asshole fluttered, then squeezed around his thrusting fingers as his cock exploded in Peter’s mouth. Peter removed his fingers and sucked him fully in his mouth, bobbing his head on his throbbing shaft and letting his copious come dribble past his lips and into his nest of soft, black hair.

As the crown of Lucian’s cock pulsed against his tongue, he heard Stella’s sharp cries of pleasure from somewhere nearby. 

“Don’t stop!” she said, but he didn’t look to see what she might be doing to elicit such cries. Lucian’s semen was musky, but less salty that his own. It was liquid and plentiful - so plentiful that his pubic hair, and most of his lower belly was slick and sticky before he stopped his gentle lick and suck.

“Peter,” he said softly, and pulled him up for a slow, sticky kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other and kissed until they couldn’t taste each other on their lips, and then for a while longer, until they heard the bathroom door open.

Stella.

Peter opened his eyes, and Lucian smiled broadly at him. His fangs were partially out, but his eyes were playful, and gentle.

“You’re way more delicious in person,” he said, stretching lazily, and sitting up. “Thank you for that.” He held out his hand for Stella when she came back from the bathroom. Even after cleaning up, she still smelled of sex.

“Did you come, pet?” he said, kissing her. She licked at his lips, chasing after him and Peter’s shared taste.

“Hard as you,” she said, and winked. Peter looked from her to Lucian and back, finally suspicious.

Mirror. Mirror.

Peter sat up slowly. “You. You,” he said, pointing at her, then at him. His eyes narrowed. He pinched Lucian, hard. He yipped and slapped him away. And she yowled. High magic. She felt what he felt, and saw what he saw. 

And vice versa.

“You asshole!” Peter said, but he wasn’t displeased. He’d done far worse in his years.

“You’ll forgive me for cheating. I didn’t know whether I’d ever convince you, so…” Lucian shrugged.

“Well, you did. I hope you had fun earlier,” Peter said, referring to him and Stella’s tryst the day before.

“It’s quite intense, being fucked as a woman,” Lucian said pensively. 

“Same, being fucked as a man,” Stella said. “Like the difference between a violin and a cello.”

“You a musician?” Peter asked, genuinely curious. He yawned.

“Was. Mostly hang around his lot nowadays,” she said, poking Lucian’s side. “It’s an adventure.” Lucian kissed her and put his hand over her mouth.

“It’s a treat through her, but I prefer the real deal far better,” Lucian said, looking at Peter.

“Glad you liked it,” Peter said, laying back with a satisfied sigh. “Gimme 20 minutes, and you can get it again.”

Stella giggled and rolled out of bed. “I think I’ll go find something to eat watch TV in the living room.” She walked out, then peeked back in. “Have fun, you two.” She winked and disappeared.

Post Note: If you’re curious about the references to Peter ingesting vampire blood, please see my other Peter Vincent story, Turning Back Time, for the full headcanon.  This tryst happened sometime before the events in the first story.

[arcadeguk]

elegance and ramen

prompt: “what can I say, I was trained by the best” + “funny, I don’t remember training you”

genre: fluff. oh yeah, luna’s back folks.

pairing: idol!hoseok x you x the dance studio x teeny jimin

a/n: this is my first scenario in literally a year pls be kind n remember me 

masterlist

if hoseok had to sum up his day into a single phrase, it would be what the youth call “an assbreaker”. he was damn near certain that his poor, sweet ass was in fact, broken. he had no hope of sitting comfortably for the next week, at least. after 7 hours of trying to perfect jimin's fluffy, contemporary “no-hoseok-convey-your-feelings-with-your-BODY” routine, hoseok was wholly and entirely done for the day. jimin was trying to work new choreography into their latest single - a routine that would emphasize the tenderness and gentility of fresh, young love. watching jimin perform the routine this morning was mesmerizing and hoseok felt enchanted by jimin's every step. but after stumbling around the studio all day - toppling into the mirrors and losing his “elegant” footing more than once - hoseok was hot, sweaty, and beyond irritated. 

with jimin’s insistent mantra of “delicately, hobi”, throbbing in his head, he finds his way over to the tiny black couch that’s tucked away in the corner of the studio. his belongings were flung all over – a sweatshirt here, a backpack there, and he was 24% sure his keys were buried somewhere among this mess. he frowns as he remembers this morning – or rather remembers the blurry disaster that was dashing out of the house with barely a kiss from you.

he lets the track continue to play in the background as he hums along to the melodies, hoping that the extra time spent listening to it will somehow send the message to his feet and solidify the movements. he bends over with an audible groan, one hand reaching back to grip his strained lower back muscles while the other swipes for his phone. he plops down on the couch, most definitely crushing the muffin he forgot to eat this morning and the sandwich he’d neglected at lunch. hoseok unlocks the phone and with a few quick taps, he opens up your message thread.  

he can’t help the fond smile that spreads across his face as reads through your messages from the day. his heart beats just a tiny bit faster as he reads each text - all sent at various times, all filled with hearts and smiley’s and “xo” ‘s.  you’re more than understanding of the expectations placed upon hoseok, and know that sometimes long days in the studio with hardly any communication with the outside world is demanded of him. when these days roll around, you never fail to text hoseok with hourly updates about your day. you share how the bus was 5 minutes late and you had to jog to your office, how the latte you’d had at lunch was arguably better than the ones you two had gotten in greece last summer, and how much you missed him and hoped he was taking care of himself. every text included that last sentiment in one form or another - he knew you were busy that day if they included just “ily :)”. but he also knew you’d snuck an extra 5 minutes at lunch when you included a thinly veiled threat about changing the netflix password if he hadn't had a break yet. he can’t help but be a little disappointed when there’s no mention of you snapping his kneecaps as reparations for not resting, but he figures that you’d get around to dismemberment at some point tonight.

as the last notes of the track die in the background, hoseok mutters a quiet “fuck it”, and quickly decides that he’s earned a break. he allows screaming muscles and stiff joints to relax back into sticky leather and clumpy sweatshirts. his head flops backward, the back of his neck catching on the top of the couch, landing with a definitive thud. he runs a hand through his fringe, mussing up the bits that stick to his sweaty forehead and brushing them backwards. his eyes droop to a close and he swallows hard, trying to relax the stress and tension in his neck. his phone vibrates in his lap and he tosses it with a whine. your last text had come in more than an hour ago - reporting that you’d gotten home safe and couldn’t wait to see him. he had a sneaking suspicion that the most recent text was from jimin, and if he had to put into words how fucking awful the routine was looking, he was sure he’d decompose on the spot. to save himself and his last functioning brain cell, the phone has been listlessly thrown and left to buzz incessantly on the soft wooden floor, just out of reach of hoseok’s hearing. another track begins to play on the studio speakers - and it’s one of hoseok’s new favorites. loud, full of thumping bass and tinny additives. the beat settles nice in the top of hoseok’s head and eases him into sleep. 

it’s not the speakers that continue to blare that wake hoseok up, nor is it the heavy studio door opening with a creak. it’s not even the crinkle of take-out bags or the strong scent of spices that stir him. instead, it’s your whispered “baaabyyy” that drags him out of his slumber.

bleary eyes crack open and hoseok’s barely granted an inch of sight before your lips are pressed firmly to his. you giggle into his mouth and a small smile crosses his face. He nearly starts to glow as his exhausted mind begins to put the puzzle together.

you, dancing, music, food, sleep…

he blinks once, twice, and then a third time for good measure before your face really comes into view. there you are, sat on his lap with a leg on either side of his hips, hands pressed to his chest and nose smushed so endearingly close to his. you can feel the warmth radiating off of hoseok’s body – and it makes you remember how much you missed the sunshine today.

“hi”, you whisper softly.

“hi”, he coos back.

“aren’t you surprised to see me?” “to be entirely honest, I’m not too sure I’m completely awake right now.”

hoseok is dead serious as his lips morph into a full blown pout, eyes somehow twisting downwards to create the perfect mixture of confusion and sleepiness.

“oh trust me, it’s really me and I really am here. and I really did bring a ton of that god-awful spicy ramen from the restaurant down the street. I don’t understand how you can eat that stuff and not have your intestines fall out of your ass afterwards.”

hoseok lets out a deep and throaty laugh, one that starts out as a nasally snort but soon turns into a guffaw that he has little hope of controlling. you beam down at him as he lets out the rest of his giggles, cupping his face in your palms. he lets his neck roll to the side, using the couch and your hands as a safety net to catch his head. hoseok smiles softly and nestles further into the softness of your palm, seeking nothing more than comfort and warmth. you lean down, landing a kiss square on his lips. your kisses travel upwards – if they can even be considered kisses. they’re feather light, simple soft presses of your lips to tired skin. cupid’s bow, nose, cheekbones, eyelids, temples, eyelashes – they all fall victim to the delicate onslaught of your gentle love. you come to leave a final, firm kiss on his forehead – followed with a unyielding “eat. food. now… please.” hoseok hums, snaking his hands between both your bodies, palms finding the supple round of your hips and massaging soft circles into the skin.

“hoseok, c’mon,” you say with a gentle flick of your fingers to his tummy, “you’ve got to be hungry.” hoseok doesn’t grace you with a response, instead he just whines again and raises his hands up higher, hitching underneath the hem of your t-shirt and scratching blunt nails along the expanse of your lower back.

“it’s getting cooooold…” you continue to tease, only to be met with a grunt and a flick from hoseok himself.

you take a moment, letting hoseok’s wandering hands find all the soft dips of your back before you lean in with a rather menacing statement of: “eat the food right now or the hulu password gets changed. You’ll never watch the end of game of thrones, you insipid toddler.”

hoseok smiles. there it was.

one minute, you’re nestled comfortably in hoseok’s lap, his hands languidly feeling you up while he simultaneously falls asleep. the very next minute, you’re being hoisted into the air and your pelvis is forcefully sat upon slender hips. two firm forearms come to settle underneath your ass and your torso jolts forward from the volition. your chin rattles on a firm shoulder and your nose bumps into hoseok’s soft and sinewy neck. you offer your thanks for the rather unwelcome ride with a quick nip to the corner of hoseok’s jaw, an injury that you quickly smooth over with a brush of your lips and a lick of your tongue. he sighs at your ministrations, doing his best to ignore your kitten licks as he carts you over to the table that holds the glorious (and ridiculously cheap) feast. before he plops you down, hoseok turns his head to nip at your earlobe and nuzzle the ticklish spot right behind your ear. “bitch” he hisses, with every ounce of love and sarcasm in the world. “your bitch,” you purr, and he just rolls his eyes with a muttered “fuck”.

hoseok can’t move. there’s no possible way. containers among containers were scattered around the studio, discarded napkins were hiding under the table, and there were at least 6 grease stains on the floor that he was gonna have to hear about tomorrow. but for right now, hoseok’s happily struggling through his 5th container of ramen and watching his favorite form of entertainment: you.

“so you never told me about your day”, you say, walking back to hoseok. you’d begun collecting the trash and trying to shoot 3 pointers from the mid-studio line. you were such a horrible shot that hoseok had to ask you to stop after he snorted ramen into his nose for the second time.

“it’s been this,” he says, gesturing with a greasy chopstick to the expansive studio. “these same 4 walls. I don’t even know what the weather was like today. the fucking sun could have not even risen and I wouldn’t have known,” he grumbles, his speech garbled from a mouth halfway full of food.

“that’s unlike you,” you say softly, plunking down in front of him, legs crossed while your hands cradle your cocked head. “what’s wrong?”

“jimin, this stupid routine that I can’t get down, my shattered ass, the bruises I’m gonna have for weeks, and don’t even get me started on my ruined pride… ‘delicately, hobi’” he says with a snarl, rolling his eyes and poking at the leftover noodles.

the room falls into a comfortable silence and hoseok is quietly grateful you don’t say anything right away. he doesn’t need every problem to be fixed all the time, just listened to. a beat passes, then another, then a third before you pipe up with a confident “show me”.

“show you what?”

“the routine. show me what jimin did. I’ll perform it for you and then you can tell me what I did wrong.”

hoseok squints at you and you can tell the idea went straight over his head.

“wait, just hear me out. you know how you are hoseok. mistakes are so much easier to spot when other people make them. you can watch me from every angle and doing each individual step, instead of just catching a glance of yourself in the mirror. you’ll be able to tell me what doesn’t look right and then fix it when you go to try it.”

hoseok pouts, but you can hear the gears turning in his head.

“you know what they say. those who can’t do, teach.”

hoseok’s container hits the floor. 

 the sky is beginning to lighten by the time the both of you call it quits. you’ve ran through the routine a countless number of times and your knees and ankles are burning from the effort. but you can tell by hoseok’s confident smile that it was all worth it. he understands the steps in an entirely new way after watching you stumble through them for the past 3 hours. now, you’re no dancer (not unless you count the tap class that you quit when you were 5), but your tiny contribution has made all the world to hoseok. the transitions, the steps, the whole body elements – they all come together in his mind, blending into one seamless piece of art.

your feet clomp down on the last step of the routine, the music dying out behind you. you expect to hear “that was great, but this time, y/n, I wanna see if you can,” coming from behind you as the track starts again, but this time you’re met with silence. you turn around and see hoseok silencing the speakers and sauntering up to you with a satisfied smile.

“good?” you ask.

“great, baby” hoseok beams. he takes in your flushed cheeks, the sheen of sweat covering your skin, and the accelerated rise and fall of your chest.

you return his grin and shrug, “what can I say, I was trained by the best”.

“funny, I don't remember training you. In fact, if I remember correctly, we’ve been watching jimin this entire time…”

this rebuttal earns him a half-hearted slap on the chest. you drift forward, resting your head on his shoulder and peering up at him with tired, but happy, eyes.

“you’re sure it’s good enough?” you check.

“trust me babygirl, I’ve got it down now.”

“good.” you hum tiredly, leaning up to rub your nose against the column of his neck.

“thank you. for everything. you could never know how much I appreciate it. the food. your time. you’re…. incredible. you’re just fucking incredible.” he coos quietly. he wraps his arms around your waist, hugging your sweaty body to his. his heart pounds against your chest and sure, he’s trying to show you how grateful he is through physical affection – but mostly he’s just trying to figure out if you really are real, and not some figment his hopeful imagination dreamed up.

“I know, I’m like, pretty fucking awesome, huh?” you quip, and you’re quickly rewarded with a giggle and a kiss.

“by the way,” you drawl against hoseok’s cheek as you smother him in kisses, “did you ever take any breaks today?”

hoseok grins as he reports, “I did actually. I took a nap right before you came.”

“good,” you yawn, “someone gets to watch game of thrones.”

hi that’s all! thank you! :) 

[ticklishnonsense]

just one laugh (stony, 1.4k, T)

i guess i’m a marvel fan now? anyway have you guys noticed that tony has never laughed in the mcu. he’s never really smiled either. have you guys noticed

also on ao3

Steve realizes it at a team movie night, actually. They're watching Airplane, chosen by Natasha of all people, and it's funny enough that Steve is snorting with laughter even before the opening credit sequence is over. Natasha is snickering and Clint is giggling and Thor roars with laughter and Bruce lets out streams of chuckles, all sounds Steve is used to at this point around this team that’s slowly becoming a family.

And sure, Tony huffs out a breath of air through his nose at the funny bits, but - he doesn't actually laugh. And the more Steve thinks about it, the more he realizes he's never heard Tony laugh. He cracks one-liners, he even smiles sometimes, but it's always sardonic and bitter, playing defense instead of actual humor.

This is a problem. After Airplane is done and they all drift off to their rooms, Steve follows Tony upstairs, to the huge room with the king bed he sleeps in alone. “Hey, can we talk?”

“If you're hoping to deflower me, that bloom's been plucked.” Tony doesn't kick him out, though. He strips down and changes into an AC/DC t-shirt and pajama pants, as Steve sits down on his bed. They'll probably still be arguing til they die, but the two of them have a truce that allows for things like showing up in each other's rooms to talk shit. “Not a blushing maiden to be found.”

Because he's discovered that it's best to get straight to the point with Tony, Steve says, “Why weren't you laughing at the movie?”

“Maybe it wasn't funny?”

“It was, though.” He'd heard Tony's silent amusement. “And I don't think I've ever heard you laugh. Even when you make jokes, you don’t laugh at them.”

“Can't all be Mr. Chuckles like you and Point Break.” Tony sits down cross-legged next to Steve and pulls out his phone, talking half-absently. “Don't be too heartbroken, Cap, Starks aren't much for laughing-”

“Well, are you ticklish?” says Steve, quite reasonably, he thinks.

Something very interesting happens. Tony Stark freezes. It might be the first time Steve's ever gotten him to shut up.

“You are,” says Steve, absolutely delighted.

A fact: Tony out of the suit is, physically, just another human. Steve in jeans, on the other hand, is still a super soldier. So when Tony tries to book it, Steve lunges for him and has him pinned on his belly before he can blink.

“I'll have you discharged from the Avengers,” Tony is trying to threaten into his pillow, “I'll melt down your shield and use it to upgrade DUM-E, I'll-”

Steve puts his fingertips on Tony's side.

“No,” Tony gasps, and then he actually squeaks.

Steve smirks and flutters his fingers again. Tony bucks up underneath him and curses violently. “C'mon, I just wanna hear you laugh.”

“Why would-” Tony cuts himself off with a catch of breath.

“Why would…?” Steve prompts. His other hand kneads slowly at Tony's ribs.

“Why'd-” Steve traces down his side, and Tony shudders. “Why would you-” Steve slips a hand under Tony’s shirt, battle-callused fingertips sliding over bare skin. Tony is soft, warm, human in a way that tends to scramble Steve’s brain when he thinks about it for too long. He takes advantage of it now to scritch gently at the crook of Tony’s side, the dip beneath his ribcage, the sides of his abs.

Tony says some creative swears. He’s kind of trembling.

Steve hums, thoughtful. He pushes Tony’s worn-out AC/DC t-shirt up, baring his sides and back. Tony struggles under Steve’s weight, but he’s, well, human. Steve’s thumbs stroke circles into the dips of Tony’s back, too light to be a massage.

“Come on,” Steve coaxes him. “Just a little laugh.”

“The hell is this, Cap - some sort of fetish - not complaining, but generally you’d - buy me dinner first-”

“You’re deflecting.” Also stuttering, but that’s beside the point. Though it’s not half bad, hearing Stark trip over his own words for once.

Tony falls silent.

Steve takes the opportunity to start tickling him in earnest, fingers dancing down his sides and then back up again to wriggle into his underarms. It takes a moment, and a lot of breathy curses and threats and shaking from the man underneath him, but Steve is patient. He tickles steadily up and down Tony’s sides, pausing to focus on the spots that make Tony spasm underneath him, and finally, finally, Tony starts laughing.

It's wonderful. Like sun burning through the mist. It bubbles up out of his throat, shaky snorts and breathy giggles stumbling out. Tony tries to squish himself down against the mattress, but only succeeds in pinning Steve’s fingers against his belly, and apparently that tickles so bad he starts laughing outright, clear and free in a way that settles warm in Steve’s chest.

“See, I knew you had it in you.” Steve tickles him a little longer, ridiculously pleased with himself, and then sits back, letting him up.

Tony sits up. He looks kind of hunted. But there’s also a sparkle in his eye that Steve’s never seen before, and he’s not moving away. “You happy? Proved that I’m human? We can’t all be hyper-resistant to everything-”

“Don’t be silly,” Steve tells him. “Of course I’m still ticklish.”

“Oh, are you, now?”

In very quick succession: Tony makes a grab for Steve’s side, Steve proves his hyper-reflexes, and then Tony is flat on his back again, Steve looming over him and pinning his wrists at his sides. “That doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you.”

Tony’s eyes are glittering again. It occurs to Steve that he may be being provoked.

Well, it’s working. He lets go of Tony’s wrists - not like Tony can get away from him, really - and digs into his ribs. Tony immediately starts struggling, and then there’s that same wonderful carefree laughter. “Ahahah - haha - no, no, not the ribs-”

“Yes the ribs,” Steve says firmly, his own smile quirking the corner of his mouth. He scribbles his fingers down the hollows between each rib, trying not to focus on how soft Tony is - soft in a way that Steve hasn’t been since the serum - and to instead knead at his sides til Tony gives up on squirming and just laughs and laughs and laughs, smile broad and silly. When Steve’s fingers settle under Tony’s arms, Tony groans through his laughter, twitching involuntarily. “I - hah - pffaha - aha - I, I - hahhhh - I-”

Steve grins. “Spit it out, Stark.”

Not that he gives him a chance. He pokes and prods, strokes and scritches and wiggles, holds Tony’s arm down to spider his fingers into the hollow of Tony’s armpit as Tony laughs helplessly beneath him. When he pinches the jut of Tony’s hipbone, Tony bucks up violently and manages to get out, “Letme-”

“Let you…?” Steve scribbles over Tony’s bare stomach, pulling a stream of giggles from him, and drawing it out longer and longer as Tony tries to form words. He is fascinated.

“Let me up, Captain Sadism-” Tony wheezes.

Steve digs his fingers into Tony’s ribs. Tony chokes out a desperate laugh, struggling in vain against Steve’s rock-solid grip. Steve claws up the sides of his chest and settles in to tickle his armpits, easily batting away his flailing hands. “Fuck, fuck, nonononono - ahah - hah - fuck-”

It’s only when Tony is thoroughly laughed out that Steve lets him go. He grins down at Tony, who’s still trembling and twitching with aftershocks, cheeks flushed and t-shirt pushed up to his chest. It’s a good look on him. “See, I knew you could laugh.”

Tony sits up and immediately wraps his arms tight around his sides, trying to glare at Steve. “You’re actually the worst Avenger, you know. Morals and the American way, my ass. Captain America, known supervillain-”

His voice is smooth again, but there’s a smile lurking at the corners of Tony’s mouth that won’t go away. Steve tweaks his side again and watches him jump about out of his pajama pants. “Don’t get cocky, Stark.”

“Cocky’s who I am. No off switch.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Now you’re just asking for it.”

“I would never-”

Steve likes Tony, despite his personality or maybe, maybe even because of it. Tony is a strong ally and a valuable teammate and a good friend, and Steve genuinely wants him to be happy, laughing and smiling included.

That, and the streak for mischief that Steve can’t much indulge when he’s on duty, combine to mean that he doesn’t feel bad in the slightest about pulling Tony into his chest and tickling his sides til he’s wheezing with laughter all over again.

(on ao3)

[vividlybnha]

fighting a loosing battle

 @krbkweek2k19 Day 1 (April 14)

Dance/Suits/Music 

Warnings: Bakugou is a love sick idiot and Kirishima wins.

Word Count: 1995

Author’s Note: Not gonna lie, I got really carried away writing this. Was gonna end it before it hit 1k but here we are. I love these idiots too much for my heart to handle.

Bakugou doesn’t want to admit it but he’s lost. Totally and utterly lost. He knows when he can hear the chaotic sounds from behind the apartment door, the mixture of music and pots clanging together. But it’s not his fault that he lost. It’s not like Bakugou asked for another villain to show up right before he had to clock out. Yet nonetheless, the noise continues and Bakugou can feel the dread fill him. He can already hear the teasing.

Opening the door makes the pain in his palms tingle, the barely there burning of his skin and Bakugou can’t help but hiss. At least he’s home right? He doesn’t have to go all out on another villain or write another report, he gets to sit down and lay back.

When he opens the door Kirishima isn’t standing there, ready to get his reward for winning their race, which is suspicious because on the rare times that he does win he starts gloating as soon as the door creaks open. He sees the mess of his shoes pilled up against the side of the hallway, mud tracing the bottom. Yeah, Kirishima is definitely home. The music blares louder, soft lyrics smoothing into the sweet sounds of the piano (so different from the loud rock music).

Pulling off the sweaty T-shirt Bakugou can feel his muscles stretching and straining. A feeling he would have appreciated in his younger days, an acknowledgment that he did a good job with training but now it’s the telltale signs that the next few days he’ll have to go a bit easier if he wants to be able to sleep without the tingling pains. Pulling off his socks makes his thighs strain and all Bakugou wants is Kirishima’s arms wrapped around his waist, his fingers delving into his skin, massaging sweet kisses into neck welcoming him home. But that bastard still hasn’t greeted him yet.

He tries to keep quiet as he makes his way to the kitchen, fixated on scaring him as a form of revenge. Which is so funny to Bakugou that despite the fact that they are both pro heroes that fight incredibly dangerous villains that he will still squeak when Bakugou surprises him. He presses himself closer to the wall, grin pulling at his lips. Oh, this one is going to be good. Bakugou takes a quick turn with palms up ready for tickling but stops quickly upon seeing him.

The evening sun presses golden rays into the tiles of their floor, cascading it as an orange sea. It already makes the scene that of a romance movie and then he sees Kirishima. Hair lowly swaying across his shoulders, his sweetly scarred arms brought to his chest as he twirls in lazy circles across the kitchen floor. He looks so soft in the orange light, smiling and singing along to the music. He can see the food bubbling over, it’ll probably burn if they don’t get to it but Bakugou can’t bring himself to stop the scene from playing on. Kirishima dips into another twirl and he giggles. The idiot actually giggles, like something is funny and Bakugou can feel his heart breaking with it. He brushes the hair out of his eyes before dramatically posing to a quick strike of the guitar, one hand high in the air and the other bringing the spoon to his lips as he mouths the words.  Bakugou can’t stop the chuckle at his idiot husband.

Kirishima, of course, as always screams and drops his spoon. Yet the heartfeltness of the scene doesn’t change. Bakugou smiles over Kiirishima’s incoherent yelling of “When did you get here?” and “How long have you been standing there?” and walks over to him following the gentle sways of the music.

“Hey to you to Idiot. You looked so cute dancing I couldn’t help but watch.” Bakugou slowly wraps his aching arms around Kirishima’s waist, ignoring the soreness in favor of the warmth of his skin. He presses impossibly close, attempting to steal his heat, lips pressing gently to Kirishima's neck. He kisses all the way up until he finds Kirishima’s lips again, which are already curled into their usual grin.

“You’re a jerk.” He dips closer for another kiss, soft and sweet. “And a loser, you didn’t think I’d forget did you?” Kirishima’s head dips back in a laugh and Bakugou has to pull his waist closer because he leans so far back he thinks he might fall. He doesn’t but recoils from his laughter and smushes Bakugou’s face in his hands. Bakugou grunts and glares at him.

“I don’t even know what I’m going to do with this win. What is my sweet oh sweet reward going to be?”

Bakugou pulls his face from Kirishima’s soft hands. Despite wanting to nuzzle closer. Kirishima’s hands despite the years of work as a pro hasn’t calloused like Bakugou’s, they are soft and warm and no matter how many times that Kirishima will touch him his hands are always welcomed and loved.

“Maybe it can be me saving dinner and not letting it burn?”

“Oh fuck.”

Kirishima pulls away from Bakugou and grabs another spoon from the cupboard, stirring the already burnt meal. Bakugou leans against the counter, cracking his knuckles against his jaw as he watches.

“I’m not hearing a thank you. I just saved our dinner.” He grumbles at when Kirishima pushes his face away from him and laughs, “Your not getting one. I may not make food like you can but if you had gotten home earlier then maybe it would be different. Be happy I didn’t order sushi.” So he’s gonna pull this card, as always. Bakugou ignores it this time in favor of wrapping around Kirishima from behind, nuzzling as close as he can.

“You’re clingy today.” It comes out more like a question than a statement and Bakugou leans just away enough so he isn’t muffled by Kirishima’s throat. “Missed you.” If he was younger he’d be burning with embarrassment, probably angrily signing those words off but he doesn’t because for the years they’ve been together its always the same feeling when he comes home. It’s always the same smile he comes home to. Yet he can feel the faint anger when Kirishima laughs though. It’s not funny, he misses him, he always does.

Kirishima’s helplessly soft fingers find their way to his cheek, holding him close while he kisses his cheeks.

Bakugou can’t help but love the times like this. Where he gets to hold Kirishima so close, smell the lavender in his shampoo, the dents of scares that line his skin. Bakugou can’t stop himself from pressing soft, knowing kisses into the manly scars.

“Love you.” He says it so softly he almost hopes that Kirishima doesn’t hear. That the words just softly drift in the air until they disappear but one of Kirishima’s hand grapples onto his and he’s smiling.

Kirishima clumsily places the top over the pot, moving it off the now gone fire and turns to face Bakugou. Usually, now he takes the chance to ramble on about his day, the stupid things he saw, his thoughts but today he doesn’t. Today he takes Bakugou’s hands in his and sways to the music.

He can still feel the faint straining of his muscles as he moves to the music, twirling in small circles to the piano chords. But he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t want to. He wants to hold Kirishima as close as he can and simply dance to the music. He can’t even remember the last time they danced together, under all the chaoticness of adult life they usually end up passed out on the bed endlessly mumbling over their days and sassily drawn out remarks.

Bakugou draws Kirishima closer with another step. This is the closest he will ever come to true peace, to true love and happiness. Right here in Kirishima's soft arms, his warm body pressed close to him as he whispers the lyrics to a song Bakugou doesn’t care to hear.

He wants to tell Kirishima all about his day. About how much he missed him between reports, how much he wanted to text him about the simple things. He wants to tell him just how much he loves it when he holds him so closely, how much he loves just being near him. But his words as always get caught in his throat and the only thing he can do is hold Kirishima's hand tighter. As tight as he can.

They stay there for an impossibly long time. So long that the orange sunbeams turn dark and the food goes cold. Kirishima is the one that finally pulls away, pulling Bakugou from his hazy half sleep state. Bakugou only allows him to because he knows they need sleep and food and they probably don’t need to stand in the kitchen for hours on end. Or at least that's what he tells himself because if it was up to him they’d never leave this moment.

Kirishima once again takes Bakugou’s face into his delicate hands and kisses him fully. Barely open lips pressing together. Bakugou can’t help his hands from roaming, pulling Kirishima’s shirt adjacent to him. Anything to have him closer, anything to just feel him there. He grunts angrily when Kirishima pulls away, leaning closer for more. Wanting to feel his lips litter his body with love.

“‘M hungry.” He says between kisses. Bakugou is too, he can feel his stomach grumble with the feeling. He keeps the thought of, ‘well I’m hungry for you’ well in the back of his brain.

“The foods probably cold by now.” It is, it most definitely is. With a grunt, Bakugou begins to pull the plates out of the cabinets and the utensils from the drawers. Kirishima gets out their drinks, still twirling to the music in the background. Bakugou doesn’t see when Kirishima changes it from the soft swirl of piano and guitar and small charms to the grumble of rock music. He can’t stop the grin that overtakes his face and turns to Kirishima.

“Thought you said you were hungry?” He can’t stop the tapping of his foot to the electric rift of the guitar. Kirishima just smiles brightly as always and Bakugou can’t help but feel hopelessly in love.

“I am, the music isn’t stopping anything.”

But it is. And Kirishima knows it is because as soon as the lyrics hit they are both banging their heads and screaming as loud as they can. Even with the knowing look of happiness they share, even with the small flutter of butterflies in Bakugou’s stomach he blushes and stomps his feet to the music.

They don’t get to dinner for a while. They stay in the kitchen, not dramatically swaying to the music like in those stupid romantic movies, like before but rocking as hard as they can, laughing and pulling each other’s strings.

And Bakugou for the life of him can’t figure out which one he loves more.

Then Kirishima turns, hair splayed across his face and laughs hard, he plays the fake guitar wonderfully. Bakugou almost wishes that he was a rockstar instead of a pro-hero because damn could he pull it off. Then he pulls Bakugou close, smashing their lips together with the sheer intensity of the song and leans back, screaming the lyrics. Bakugou feels bright and lovesick and stupid.

He can’t really lose when he is with Kirishima. He can’t just be quiet and himself and angry. He is more, so much more in Kirishima's soft, delicate, wonderful hands. He is everything he wanted to be and Kirishima’s somehow even more.

“I still haven’t gotten a reward yet, I think I might know what I want.”

And upon all the yelling in the music Bakugou hears him so clearly, “Hm?”

“I want you to kiss me.”

And Bakugou finds himself falling in love all over again.

[javistg]

Kisses in the Night

So, I woke up with a nasty cold this morning and I desperately needed a distraction to stay awake. 

Below, you’ll find what my feverish brain came up with as I rode the subway back home from work. I should probably hold on to it until I’m sane enough to give it a proper read, but I’ve been sniffing all day and I’m tired. So, I’m just gonna go for it. Hope you enjoy :)

Summary: A sleepless night. A whispered name. What will happen when Peeta finally finds the courage to tell Katniss how he feels?

A modern-day AU one-shot.

 Katniss stared at the ceiling.

 Her eyes followed the rhythmic dance of beams of light --cast by the occasional car passing underneath her window-- as they split the shadows in half, chasing the darkness away.

 Her cellphone’s screen lit up with an incoming message. She reached for it wondering who could be writing so late.

 Peeta M: You awake?

 Katniss frowned. It was well after midnight, Peeta --her best friend, and downstairs neighbor-- was supposed to be out on a hot date with a red-headed beauty. Why would he be calling her?

 Intrigued, and a bit worried, she typed, “Yup.”

 She had barely pressed ‘send’ when a new message popped up on her screen.

 Peeta M: Meet me in the hallway?

 Katniss sat up. Her fingers danced over the keypad as she typed, “Sure.”

 She got out of bed and walked over to her dresser. Peeta had seen her in her sleep clothes before, but the socks, boy shorts, and tank top she was wearing didn’t really count as an outfit.

 Opening the top drawer, she grabbed an oversized sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. Trying not to trip, she hastily made her way to the front door.

 Katniss opened the door just a crack and found Peeta already waiting for her, leaning against the wall across from her apartment while he played with the phone in his hands.  

 Katniss frowned. He was still wearing his date clothes, —charcoal trousers and a fitted powder blue shirt that made his eyes sparkle and hugged his broad frame— but his blond hair was a tousled mess; his handsome face eerily pale as it reflected the light emanating from his cellphone’s screen.

 “Hey,” she greeted.

 Peeta looked up from his phone. “Hey, Katniss.” Pushing himself away from the wall, he slipped the cell into his back pocket.

  “What’s up?” she asked. “Where’s Lavinia?”

 Peeta shrugged. “She’s gone,” he said.

 A traitorous gust of cold wind came in from the corridor. It wrapped itself around Katniss’s bare legs, climbing up her spine and making her shiver.

 Feeling suddenly exposed, Katniss wrapped her arms around herself.  “Wanna come in?” she asked, stepping away from her door and back into the warm comfort of her home.

 Peeta stepped into the apartment. Carefully, he closed the door behind him.

 Dragging her sock-clad feet along the hallway, Katniss made her way to the kitchen, humming to herself and turning on the lights as she went.

 Peeta’s footsteps resonated loudly as he followed.

 Once inside the kitchen, she reached for the fridge. “Would you like something to drink?” she offered. “I’ve got milk, beer--,”

 “Got anything stronger?” he asked, pulling a stool from under the kitchen island and sitting on it.

 “Yeah,” she said, forgetting about the fridge and turning to the cupboard instead.

 Standing on the tips of her toes, she reached for a bottle. “I still have some of that whiskey Gale gave me for my birthday.”

 “That could work.”

 Katniss poured two glasses and took them over to where Peeta was sitting. After leaving the glasses on the countertop, she grabbed a stool for herself, placed it next to Peeta’s, and hopped on it.  

 Peeta clinked their glasses together and took a sip.

 Katniss followed suit.

 A strained silence settled over them as Katniss waited for Peeta to talk. She didn’t want to pressure him, but she was dying to know what had happened.

 She had known Lavinia for a while —the fiery redhead had been one of the first friends she’d made at work.

 Lavinia was hardworking, smart and witty. She always had a kind word for everyone. She was supportive without being corny, and she was generous, thoughtful.

 To top it all off, she was beautiful. It was hard to believe she was still single.

 For a long time, Katniss had honestly believed Lavinia would be a good match for Peeta. But she hadn’t introduced them until recently because he had spent years claiming to be disinterested in finding a companion.

 Lately, though, things had begun to change.

 Taking another sip, Katniss turned to look at her friend. He looked tired, spent.

 She had known him for years, but she couldn’t remember ever seeing him like that before. Surly, angry, broken.

 She couldn’t recall ever hearing of a woman up and leaving him either.

 “So,” she asked when she couldn’t take the silence anymore, “what happened?”

 With a loud exhale, Peeta rested his elbows on the countertop and dropped his head in his hands. Digging his fingers into his blond waves, he roughly massaged his scalp.

 When he finally spoke, his voice was distant, hollow. “We kissed.”

 Katniss rolled her eyes. Peeta and Lavinia kissing was hardly newsworthy, they were two full-grown adults on their third date. She was pretty sure they were way past the first kiss stage.

 “And?” she prompted.

 Peeta's chest rose as he filled his lungs with air. His next words came out in one long, shaky breath. “I said your name.”

 The earth stood still.

 Out on the street, a car alarm went off. A drunken man cursed.

 A few blocks down the road, a small child woke up from a nightmare.

 Somewhere in the countryside, a calf was born.  

 Someone celebrated.

 Someone cried.

 Back in her kitchen, Katniss tightened her hold on her whiskey glass.

 Her heart pounded in her chest, pressing against her ribcage to the point of pain.

 Peeta’s words delighted and terrified her all at once. They were exactly what she’d hoped to hear him say one day, and what she dreaded the most. They meant the end of their friendship and maybe…”

 Katniss opened her mouth and gasped for air. The burning in her lungs made her feel like a fish out of water fighting for its next breath.

 Going against her better judgment, she asked, “Why?”

 Peeta let out a tired chuckle and shook his head. “Because you’re you and I’m me,” he said, turning towards her and waving a hand between the two of them. “And you’ve been pushing me away, Katniss, insisting on this pointless quest of yours. You keep looking for the right girl for me, setting me up with just anyone—,”

 “Lavinia’s not anyone!” she interrupted, feeling a sudden need to justify her actions. “She’s one of my closest friends.” Crossing her arms, she glared at him. “So, excuse me for thinking a beautiful, intelligent, funny woman would be appropriate for you!”

 “You’re right,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “Lavinia’s not the problem. She’s great. She was actually very understanding tonight, but...” His eyes found hers, soft and pleading. Terrified. Hopeful. “She’s not you, Katniss.”

 Peeta’s words sucked whatever fight she’d had left in her. She slumped forward, dropping her gaze to her lap as she waited for an explanation she was sure would follow.

 Gently, Peeta tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His whispered words wrapped tightly around her heart. “I shouldn’t have told you like this. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault that I’ve been such a coward. I just—,”

 She shook her head, cutting his apology short. Still unable to look at him, she reached for the glass, brought it to her lips, and took a long sip.

 The smooth liquid traveled past her throat, warming her chest and giving her the courage she needed to say her next words. “If I’d thought, just for a second, that you thought of me that way, Peeta, I—,”

 Peeta gasped. In the stillness of the room, she could hear him holding his breath.

 “You?” he prompted, hooking a trembling index under her chin and forcing her to look at him.

 It was like looking into a mirror.

 All the things she felt for Peeta, longing, fear, need, hope, love, want. They were all painted in his beautiful blue eyes, calling out to her, begging her to speak them aloud.

 How did I miss this, she wondered. Why haven't I noticed it before?

 The answer followed right behind. Because I've been too scared.

 Katniss swallowed thickly. Gathering the last of her courage, she said, “I never would have introduced you to any of them.”

 "No?" he asked, smiling that shy, sweet smile that made her heart swell.

 Katniss shook her head. Her cheeks turned crimson as she admitted, "I would have kept you all to myself."

 A shuddering sigh left Peeta’s lips. Haltingly, he closed the distance between them, stopping only a hairsbreadth away from her face.

 He was so close she could feel the warmth emanating off of him, smell the spicy cinnamon in his cologne, the whiskey on his breath.

 Her spine tickled at his proximity. Her hands itched to touch him, begging to be buried in his hair. 

Katniss sighed. She was tired. Tired of running, tired of denying herself of the one thing she truly desired. 

Surrendering to her heart's plea, she closed her eyes and leaned in, erasing the distance between them and sealing their lips in one blissful, perfect, mind-blowing kiss.