#that piece pulled my hair and was truly me coming right out of a slump where i questioned every single col piece i had written

[kakujis]

happy birthday, keisuke!

synopsis: you celebrate keisuke's day with toman.

warnings: gn!reader, swearing, this is fluffy and gross, yn can't bake for shit (me), not proofread, and that should be it!

ft: baji keisuke x reader, 1.2k

network: @enchantedforest-network

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML!!!!!!! i set aside my hw and all to get this finished hehe. it's still the 2nd in my area, but ik it's the 3rd elsewhere! i tried to keep it short and simple this time!! i won't get sappy or anything but i truly love baji so much!! happy birthday, kei, hope its a good one. ♡

with the amount of staring you’ve been doing, you must as well be losing your vision, the words on the screen blurred and hazy. you’ve scrolled through the ingredient and instruction list an obscene amount of times, and yet… things seem to always turn out like this. 

“i’ve got no fucking clue what i’m doing!” you huff, but the silver haired man besides you simply laughs in reply. “mitsuya, why does my cake look like one of y’all rolled it over with your motorbikes?” 

“to be honest,” he starts, snickering as he inspects it, “i have no idea. i mean, you followed the recipe and all didn’t you?” 

you nod, sadly staring at another failed attempt. he decides to take a piece and taste it, throwing it into his mouth, chewing with an unreadable expression.

“it’s not like it’s inedible, it’s miles better than your first attempt. it’s just a little dry and crumbly…” mitsuya says, brow furrowing, “alright, honestly, it’s pretty bad.” 

you sigh loudly, picking it up and throwing it into the trash, “i told you we should’ve gotten him a cake from the store!” all your attempts have been moot. instead of a fluffy and moist cake, it’s always flat and dry even with mitsuya’s help. 

kazutora pops his head into the kitchen at that moment, “i can run really fast if you want me to.” 

you shake your head, “...no. don’t… do that.” you point to your forehead, signaling him of the decorations stuck on his. 

he shrugs, pulling off a stray streamer, and walking in before he’s jumping up to sit on the counter.“how are we gonna have a birthday party with no cake?” 

you frown, whining, “man, i don’t know. mitsuya, what do we do?” 

he glances over at the clock, mouth pressed in a line, before he answers. “you could always stick a candle into his soba noodles, we've got tons of those.” 

“we are doomed.” you state, sighing as you slump against the counter. “sorry kei…” 

even though you know, deep down, that keisuke baji could give less than two shits about a cake, you really wanted to surprise him. you did the same for him on white day, all those years back in highschool when you finally confessed. he accepted it, shitty chocolate and all, as you hid your burnt bandaged fingers behind your back. he never mentioned it, but you assume he knew, when instead of kissing your lips, he dragged your hands out from behind you and kissed your them while your heart almost sprang out of your chest. 

“who’s doomed?” you hear a loud yet comforting voice coming from the hallway. you look up to see draken, smiling ear to ear as he holds a cake box. 

“draken!” the three of you giddily call in unison and he smiles wider. 

mikey isn’t far behind him, peeking out to say, “there’s no way you guys thought we were gonna eat a cake they made right? it’s literally y/n, we would’ve died. i think baji almost did when he ate your confession chocolate.” 

“i’m going to ignore that for now.♡︎” you chime, keeping the strained smile on your face. 

“you guys are so mean to my protégé.” mitsuya chides, giving you a pat on the back. “anyway, we’re running out of time before he gets home, let’s finish this up.” 

you all nod and run off to your places, with you cleaning up the kitchen, and yourself, as best you can before you head out to the living room. the decorations are strung up nicely, courtesy of emma and hina, although takemichi, chifuyu, and pah definitely tried their best. you’re a little nervous, heart fluttering, as the lights dim and everyone crouches in place. 

you wait a few moments, eyes adjusting to the now darkened room as you catch a wave from chifuyu right before the front door slams open. equally as loud as the slam shut, baji talks to his mom on the phone. 

“yeah ma, i just got home. thanks for hangin’ with me today. huh? oh yeah, i’ve got plans with the guys tonight…” he mutters, phone pressed up against one shoulder as he kicks his shoes off. “unfortunately, its just the guys, said they couldn’t get off work early enough..” he trails off, a solemn expression on his face and you bite back the urge to laugh. 

“alright, love you ma, talk to you later.” he says as he hangs up, placing his book bag onto the floor. as he hits the lights, you all pop up out of place. 

“happy birthday, baji!” you cheer out in unison. it’s an explosion of streamers, confetti, and colors with some of you using party poppers and some of you using the blowers. 

he jumps while breaking out in a shit-eating grin, his pearly canine teeth in full view. his eyes scan the room til they fall onto you, the excitement sparked behind them clear as he immediately makes his way over to you. 

“no fuckin’ way,” he laughs, throwing his arms around you, before peppering kisses on your cheeks. “should’ve known you were a liar.” 

you hug him back, but pull off slightly, when you suddenly feel the heavy eyes of everyone around you. “o-okay keisuke, that’s enough.”

he presses a final kiss to your forehead before turns and glares, “huh? you guys got a problem with this?” 

mikey glares back, “yeah. i do.”

baji releases you, walking over to “square up” with mikey. the two of them bickering about the importance of everyone showing up, but also, a significant other is important too, and besides, “i was about to greet everyone, it’s not my fault you can’t find a date.”  

“here we go,” draken sighs, before sliding onto the couch. “emma, can you get me something to drink?” 

you shrug, settling in next to kazutora who’s excitedly bringing out the games for the night. the rest of the party goes well, the laughter bouncing off the walls of your shared apartment. it’s a nice little life you’ve got with baji so far. while he studies his ass off in school, your work is good enough to support the both of you. it’s cozy, it’s everything you’ve wanted. 

as the night winds down and everyone clears out, you find yourself cleaning up. you tell keisuke not to worry about it, “it’s your night, i’ll finish up here.” but he tsks you away, shoving littered plastic forks and plates into a bag anyway. he finds you in the kitchen later on, washing a few trays that were used to set the food out. 

he snakes his arms around your waist, breath tickling your ear as he asks, “so where’s my cake?” 

“huh?” you giggle, turning off the sink. “what are you talking about? we ate it all earlier?” 

“no, not that one.” he grins, his pretty hair falling over your shoulder. “the one mikey told me you made.” 

you freeze, that little shit. “uh… honestly, we threw them away. even with mitsu’s help, i couldn’t make you anythin’ good.” 

“well, that’s no good.” he hums for a bit, before spinning you around, a devious smile on his face. 

“kei?” you ask, but you’re interrupted by his lips on yours. 

“guess i gotta settle for somethin’ even sweeter.” he murmurs, before his hands are cupping your cheeks as he kisses you again and again.

“you’re so fucking cheesy.” you giggle in between kisses, hands naturally coming around his waist. “happy birthday, keisuke.♡︎” 

[comet-forgot-you]

HEAR ME OUT, Amber freeman who is not killed in the end of scream 5 but put in a psych ward and R is a psychologist there whose patient is amber and amber keeps flirting with R but they both have to keep this professional and then idk boom smut 😸

hmmmmm

smut. 18+ pls

do not repost for any reason.

“oh come on, you know you want me.”

“this is a professional relationship, amber. you are my patient, i dont want you.” you say, peering over your clipboard to look at the girl. you had been treating her for the past few months and every day she had flirted with you.

“if you didnt want me, you would’ve released me already, but you havent.” she was right in a way. she was fit for release to a prison, but you werent ready for her to leave, not yet.

“thats not true,” you murmur, scratching something down on the piece of paper clipped down. “i havent released you because youre not ready for release.” you lied. of course you did, you couldnt let the girl know you were affected by her at all.

amber sits up on the couch in your office. “you cant lie to me,” she whispers, standing up. you look up at her, setting your clipboard down on the table beside your chair.

“im not lying.” she reaches out to stroke your hair.

“yes you are.” you swallow.

this is unprofessional.

you want to say it, but you cant bring yourself to say the word, her soft fingers against your skin sending butterflies to your stomach. “amber.” your voice is stern. amber tilts her head to the side.

“hmm?” she hums. minutes pass of silence, your throat dry. “got nothin to say?”

she finds herself in your lap, your hands instinctively finding her hips. “this is unprofessional,” she mocks you. you glare up at her, eyes flicking to her lips for a millisecond. “you sound so-“ you shut her up, pressing your lips to hers. you tug her hips to grind against your thigh.

“shut up.” you mumble, pulling her lip between your teeth. amber smiles, her hips rolling against you.

her hands wrap around the back of your neck as your lips kiss down her jaw, fingers finding their way into her waistband. “can i?” you mumble against her skin.

“please” she breathes out, grinding against your thigh. you sneak your hand into her pants, feeling the wetness pooling in her underwear. “shit,” she hisses, grinding against your fingers. you push her panties to the side, swiping a finger through her folds.

she lets out a moan as your finger swirls around her clit. “hush,” your voice muffled into her skin. you bite down gently against the skin of her neck before sinking your fingers into her cunt.

“please,” her voice is hoarse as you pump your fingers in and out of her.

“this is unprofessional,” you murmur. you dont stop, though, too focused on how her walls squeezed your fingers to truly care about how unprofessional it was to fuck your patient.

“shut.. up,” amber’s words were cut off by her breathy moans. her fingers tug at your hair desperately, hips rolling uncontrollably against your palm.

its not long before shes nearing her high, her walls squeezing your fingers and you swear you could get off from the feeling alone. “gonna cum, amber?” you whisper, your free hand wrapping around her throat gently. she lets out a quiet moan as your fingers squeeze her throat.

“mhm,” she hums, eyes blown full of lust.

“good girl,” you whisper, pressing your lips against her own. “cum on my fingers, yeah?” she nods as best she could with your hand wrapped around her throat.

as if she were waiting for you to tell her, she cums on your fingers, her hips moving sloppily as she rides out her high.

“so.. fuck.. so unprofessional, doctor,” amber breathes out, her body slumping against yours.

“so unprofessional.”

[doumadono]

EMERGENCY REQUEST

Hello, can i please put in an emergency request for either hawks or shoto (or even both, if it’s not too much trouble for you, it’s completely ok if it’s just one of them) comforting a fem reader through a breakup? I just got broken up with in the middle of exam season and it’s really taking a toll on me. The stress of it all is starting to make me question my self worth, and I don’t feel like I can even be mad at my ex, since he broke up in order to take care of his own mental health, citing that he didn’t feel like he was in a good place for a relationship right now. All of that plus the general melancholy and I can practically feel myself sliding back into bad habits and mental health issues when I thought I was making some progress. Sorry if this isn’t emergency request material. Thank you!

Hawks & Shoto with a friend after breakup

A/N: I'm truly sorry to hear that you're going through such a tough time, especially during exam season. It's completely understandable to feel overwhelmed and question your self-worth in the midst of all this. Taking care of your own mental health is crucial, and it's okay to prioritize yourself during this challenging period. If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. You're stronger than you think, and you'll get through this ♥

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

You find yourself feeling lost and vulnerable after the breakup, struggling to cope with the sudden change in your life.

Hawks arrives at your doorstep after his shift, carrying the book you asked to borrow. Upon opening the door to greet him, he notices the somber look on your face, and the way your shoulders slump with exhaustion. "Hey there," Hawks greets you softly, his eyes filled with concern as he takes in your appearance. "I brought the book you wanted. Mind if I come in?"

You invite him inside, and Hawks settles down beside you on the couch, his wings folding neatly against his back. "You don't seem like yourself," he observes, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face. "Is everything okay, dove?"

Tears well up in your eyes as you recount the breakup, the weight of it all crashing down on you. "My boyfriend… He broke up with me… I just don't understand why this had to happen now, of all times," you admit, your voice trembling with emotion. "I felt everything was going well!"

Hawks wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as he offers a comforting embrace. "Oh, you poor, little birdie! I know it hurts right now," he claims, his voice a soothing presence in the midst of your turmoil. "But sometimes, you have to release those who don't value your feelings. It doesn't mean you're any less deserving of love or happiness."

Hawks, with his bird-like nature, wraps his wings around you, drawing you close as he massages your shoulders and shares stories about his day of hero work to distract you.

Yet whenever your mind wanders to negative thoughts about the painful event and tears start to fill your eyes, he quickly changes the subject. "Come on, dove, you're too beautiful to have tears on your face. Hush now, birdie. It hurts, but I promise it will get better."

Knowing your apartment almost as well as his own, Keigo heads to the kitchen to whip up something tasty for you, using ingredients from your fridge. Spotting some chicken, he opts to make rice with fried chicken and veggies, convinced that nothing lifts the spirits quite like a tasty piece of chicken.

After the meal, as your emotions begin to waver, you yawn, feeling sleepy.

Hawks lets you rest your head against his shoulder.

As you drift off to sleep in the arms of your friend, you find solace in the warmth of his presence, knowing that even in your darkest moments, you are never truly alone.

The breakup hits you like a tidal wave, leaving you feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty and despair.

During a patrol together, Shoto notices the tension in your body and the way your movements seem strained. He senses the heaviness in your heart, even though you try to hide it behind a forced smile. "Is everything alright?" Shoto asks quietly, his gaze gentle yet penetrating as he studies your expression. "You seem… off."

You hesitate at first, unsure whether to confide in him, but the concern in Shoto's eyes is enough to break down your walls. "I just went through a breakup," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Instantly, Shoto's hand finds yours, his touch warm and reassuring as he squeezes it gently. "I'm sorry to hear that," he murmurs, his voice filled with empathy. "Breakups are never easy, I guess. I'm truly sorry to hear you're facing such difficulties," Shoto expresses, his eyes conveying empathy. "While I may not fully grasp the weight of the stress and sadness accompanying a breakup, having never experienced a relationship myself, I want you to remember that after every storm, there's a rainbow," he states, his gaze drifting to some distant point on the horizon.

You nod, unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain.

"It's okay to feel sad," he assures you, his hand reaching out to gently brush away your tears. "But don't let this breakup define you. You're stronger than you realize."

"I just don't know what to do," you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.

Shoto wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close in a protective embrace. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," he claims. "I'll be here for you every step of the way, don't forget that," Todoroki reminds and gently ruffles your hair.

As the patrol continues, Shoto doesn't push you to talk about it further, knowing that sometimes, the comfort of a familiar presence is all you need.

As time passes, you notice the tension starting to ease away.

With Shoto by your side, you begin to feel a sense of peace settle over you, knowing that even in your darkest moments, you're not alone.

[leiawritesstories]

A Door Opened

written for @throneofglassmicrofics using the prompt "Rain"

word count: 965

warnings: negative thoughts, some angst, hurt/comfort

enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As if the universe truly hated her guts, the moment Elide stepped out of the office building, she was faced with a spring downpour. These passing showers were typical of Perranth, usually lasting anywhere from three to thirty minutes before they blew through. With a deep, exhausted sigh, she pulled her old umbrella out of her bag, opened it up, and prayed to Anneith that the busted old thing would last until she was home.

She was a block away from her apartment building when a gust of wind flipped the useless piece of junk inside out, thoroughly drenching her.

Elide ducked her head and trudged onwards to her building, thankful that the pouring rain obscured the tears dripping slowly down her cheeks, hiding her soul-deep exhaustion. She pushed open the doors and stepped into the mercifully warm lobby, taking a few minutes in the coatroom to wring out her blouse and skirt as best as she could and shake the excess rain off of her short boots. Her old ankle injury throbbed, screaming for her to kick off her shoes and elevate it, but she had five flights of stairs ahead of her before she could do that.

At the top of the last flight of stairs, Elide stopped, head drooping as she braced herself on the stairwell door, her whole body protesting with aches. There were days when she cursed her uncle for inflicting the injury, when she raged against Vernon--who was long since dead--for crippling her both literally and figuratively through his vile, poisonous words. The only reason she'd been hired at the marketing firm she worked at was because her few good friends had worked tirelessly to dismantle the lies Vernon had spread.

After a long moment, she pushed open the stairwell door and trudged, sodden, down the hallway to her door. She pulled her keys out of her bag and pushed the right one into the lock, wriggling it around and around. Her door was notoriously finicky, and it often took several tries before the key clicked.

Today, though, nothing worked.

Defeated after what felt like an eternity of trying to wrangle her key into the godsdamned lock, Elide slumped to the floor in front of her door, past caring who happened to see her sad, crumpled figure, and let the hot tears drip down her cheeks.

Days like these were the worst--they had a way of letting in the dark thoughts that she kept locked up at all times. When her mental guard was this weakened, it became so easy for all the years of her uncle's insinuations to slip in and wheedle sweet poison in her ears, in her heart.

Maybe he was right.

Across the hallway, a door opened, the soft swish of wood against carpet brushing faintly across Elide's hearing. Heavy footsteps crossed the hall, pausing directly in front of her, and a broad shadow descended across her as the inhumanly tall man from across the hall crouched down in front of her.

"Li?" Lorcan Salvaterre's deep rumble poked through the thick fog of her thoughts, its familiarity like a breath of sunlight amid a rainstorm. Ever since she'd moved into this building just over a year ago, she'd had a sort of casual friendship with the solitary, brooding man, a kind of mutual partnership where they would bring each other little things on bad days.

She couldn't find the strength to lift her head. "Go away."

"Nope." Carefully, Lorcan reached out and tucked the fallen hair away from her face. "Come to my place, Li."

"Don't need your pity," she muttered.

He glanced from her slumped position to her locked door. "It's not pity, it's just what friends do. C'mon. I'm not gonna let you stay out here all night."

"Make me."

"Fine." Effortlessly, Lorcan hoisted both her and her bag into his arms and carried her across the hallway, into his apartment. He set her down on the kitchen counter, knelt down, and tugged her boots off, being extra gentle with her bad ankle.

Elide hissed as she flexed her ankle. "It's fine, I just need ice." She waved off his concern. "Gods, Lor, I'm dripping all over your counter."

"Not a problem." He went over to his freezer and returned with an ice pack. "Here. Wanna dry off in the bathroom?"

"I...I don't have a change of clothes." Her voice wobbled.

"Li, you've left so many sweat sets at my place that I practically have your whole closet." Lorcan braced his arms on either side of her, lowering his head to eye level with her. "I'm not gonna pretend to know what's going on, but you've clearly had a shit day, and I want to make it better."

Drawn to his comfort, the side that he rarely showed, Elide leaned forwards, her wet head dropping against Lorcan's shoulder. "I just want to sleep."

His arms wound around her, enveloping her in warmth. "And I want you in dry clothes first, okay?"

"Okay." She relaxed into his hold as he carried her to the bathroom, where a short stack of fresh towels and a neatly folded sweat set of hers waited on the countertop.

She emerged shortly later, dry and in clean clothes with her hair in a braid, to the enticing smell of Lorcan cooking dinner. Too tired to eat, she just went to the sofa and bundled herself into a blanket, curling into the small cocoon of warmth. He finished up cooking and padded over to the sofa, lying down and tugging her into his arms, her body curled against his beneath the blankets.

He didn't say anything, but the barely-there kiss on her forehead and the familiar comfort of his hand on her back said everything.

I am here for you.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@aelinschild

[saphirered]

Hello hello my lovely!! English is not my first language I hope this is fine 😊 Can I have a request with Morning for Mollymauk? Fluffy if possible!! 💜

Hello anon! Thank you for requesting! Went true Mollymauk cutesy with this one so I hope you like how it turned out! 😘

First thing in the morning, minds returning to consciousness, decently rested after a long day before, Mollymauk feels cold. No amount of additional blankets can keep at bay the ice in his veins, and his infernal blood has been quelled. He supposes it might have something to do with the turning weather, the summer heat being exchanged for a frigid cold, far too cold for his likings, and the worst is yet to come, but such a thing is easily remedied with the right company. He opens his eyes and there he sees, wrapped in a blanket of your own, a true beauty. Shoulders slumped, legs pulled up on the wooden chair. You pick pieces of fruit and cheese from a plate and nibble at them quietly. Your hair’s a mess. You’ve not made an effort to get changed into your day clothes which only shows Molly you’ve not yet made up your mind wether it is best to join him or brave the world beyond this bedroom door. He’d make an argument about it being far too early but given the muffled bustling from the tavern below, and the people outside in the market square, he doubts that is the case. The sliver of daylight from between the drawn curtains illuminates you just perfectly and only confirms; you truly are a sight to wake up to. 

Groaning he stretches into a half-seated but still very much slouched position, adjusting the pillow to be more comfortable. When his chest falls bare to the cold air he regrets it instantly and pulls the blankets closer around him. You watch from your spot popping a grape into your mouth mumbling something along the lines of ‘good morning’ though you’re hard to understand clearly in your own groggy morning state. 

“Did your mother not teach you it’s rude to speak with your mouth full?” Molly’s voice is still heavy with sleep but your response wakes him up a bit more because next he knows a grape hits him in the face and you’re giggling. He simply reaches for the fallen grape as it lies on the blankets, tosses it up and catches it in his mouth. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you it’s rude to steal food from someone else?” You mimic his tone of voice crossing your arms playfully. 

“Besides the fact I don’t know if I even have a mother I’m not sure a blatantly discarded grape counts as stealing food. I’d say it was abandoned and I found it.” Molly tries to be a smart-arse as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, just right in time to catch another grape thrown his way in his mouth and so you toss another, and another. “If you were going to feed me breakfast, love, I’d prefer you do it here in bed instead of ten feet away where I can’t even repay the effort appropriately.” You might have made a comment about nothing to do with him being appropriate but decide to hold your tongue for now.

You seem to consider for a second before you get up from the chair, take your plate and saunter over to the bed where you take a seat on the opposite end, right where his feet lay hidden beneath the blankets. You keep your own blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you put the plate on the abandoned side of the bed where you once resided. Molly whispers some choice of words under his breath and sits up further until the only distance between the two of you is caused by his bent knees. His back falls bare and he shivers. 

“Oh, my poor darling, not a fan of the cold, are you?” He begins playing with the edges of the blanket you keep around yourself. You take a piece of cheese, take a bite. 

“Only because you’re not here to keep me warm.” He winks and so you offer the remainder of the slice of cheese to him. Molly takes it between his teeth as he tries to adjust himself and eat it. In this motion he manages to grab the bottom of your blanket and pull it away from you and wraps it around himself in one fast motion leaving gawking. Suddenly you’re the one exposed to the cold air and wrap your arms around yourself, curling up to preserve what warmth you can. In reality it’s not so bad but you’ll put on the performance for the circus man if you have to. You’ll do it gladly for this little game. 

“Rude!” You exclaim as the tiefling clicks his tongue and tilts his head all too innocently. 

“You know, love, I think I’m okay. It’s not that cold anymore.” He moves for the plate and you dive for it too. You’re quicker this time and snatch it away just before he can reach it, putting your leg between yourself and him, foot flat against his chest to keep him out of arm’s reach, even when you feel his hands grab onto your ankle and try to move it. You’re at an advantage given your position. 

“And this fruit, delicious. There’s even some cherries. Those are your favourites, if I recall correctly. Such a shame I’ll have to eat them all alone.” You purr deviously popping one in your mouth with an amount of sex-appeal Molly rightfully is proud of. 

“Yes, yes. Such a shame I’m perfectly content under these warm soft blankets.” He brushes his fingers along your ankle, calf, and up your thigh so lightly he knows it causes goosebumps. “You’re not getting cold, are you? Oh dear.” You play it cool, as much as you can and eat another cherry musing as you do about how delicious it is. 

“Not at all, but thank you for your concern, darling. I think I’ll just finish my breakfast downstairs, though. See you when you’re ready to crawl out of that cocoon of stolen warmth?” You blow him a kiss as you try to pull free your leg. Molly lets you go as you catch him off guard and you get up from the bed, walking around and making your way towards the door.

“Now hold on. No need for such drastic measures. Truce?” He takes the stolen blanket from around him and offers it to you. You tap your chin and hum. When it takes a little too long, Molly unwraps the blankets around him and opens them up, moving more towards the centre of the bed, as if to show there’s plenty of space for you. He gives you a look you simply can’t refuse but you feign indifference as you turn back to the bed and sit on the side. You take a cherry from the plate and hold it between thumb and index finger, think just a little longer to where he hesitates what you might decide next, but then you bring the cherry to his lips and Molly happily takes it from you, victory in his eyes as much as satisfaction. The cherries really are delicious. This was a good deal. 

You put the plate in his lap once he stretches his legs and curl against his side as Molly throws an arm and therefor a solid couple of pounds worth of blankets across your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. There you sit together nibbling away at breakfast. This is a good morning. 

[pure-garbage]

Final Miscalculation Of The Seeker Pirates! Tashigi's Trap!

Chapter Warnings: Violence, gore, character death

"Tighter! And make sure the knots are on the other side of the mast, where she has no hope of reaching them!"

Lana came to in a nightmare, Corrin's voice bringing her back from unconsciousness most unpleasantly. Across the deck from her, Nami and Sanji were slumped over, shackled.

"What... happened?"

The last thing Lana remembered was foraging on an island with her friends. Something about a net... Sanji yelling about a trap.

"I can't move!"

Mast at her back, Lana realized she recognized the ship she was on. Her suspicions were confirmed when Corrin stepped into her line of sight.

"Well, well, Avariya's awake," he crooned. "Long time, no see, lockbreaker."

"Corrin!" Lana seethed. "You've got some nerve letting me see your rotten face again after last time!"

"Nerve? Come on, it's only natural for bounty hunters to target pirates," Corrin tsked.

"Bounty hunters? What the hell are you talking about?" Lana demanded. She spared a glance upward. This was undoubtedly the ship of the Seeker pirates, but they weren't flying their jolly roger.

'I know Corrin. He would die a pirate before turning coat and becoming a bounty hound. He's up to something... but what does he have to gain from lying? And who is he really lying to? This line can't be for my benefit.'

"Corrin!"

A woman with blue hair appeared, frowning tersely through thick-framed glasses. She carried a sword. "The man I'm looking for isn't here. If you're wasting my time..."

"Wouldn't dare dream of it, sergeant major Tashigi," Corrin assured her. "These pirates are all part of the same crew. If anything can be said of the straw hat pirates, it's that they leave no man... or woman, behind. He'll come to take them back from us."

"He'd better, or I'll be holding you to account," Tashigi warned Corrin severely.

A marine. Some of the pieces started to fall into place.

"If you're trying to lure our captain out to rescue us, you should know it's gonna backfire," Lana spat. "Luffy's gonna mop the deck with you."

"Straw Hat Luffy?" Tashigi replied. "I'm afraid there's no way he'll be joining us. The platoon of marines I sent to distract him seem to be doing a fine job, judging by the commotion on the beach."

She was right. The shore was in sight and Lana could see Luffy, Chopper and Usopp running like madmen from a navy brigade.

"So... you mean it's not Luffy you're after?" Lana asked, confusion clouding her tone. "Then... who? Who is it you're trying to lure out?"

Robin's bounty was impressive, but Tashigi was after a man. If Sanji wasn't their target, that meant...

Lana's eyes narrowed as she reached a conclusion.

"Zoro? You idiots are trying to provoke Zoro? Corrin, you've pulled some bone-headed stunts in your time, but this takes the cake. You must have a death wish."

"Not me," Corrin grinned. "I'm just helping the good sergeant major capture her mark. It's a nice bonus that I'll be able to... collect your bounty, as well, Avariya."

His grin widened and he shot her a sly wink. Lana gasped, realizing his ploy. She scoffed, pulling furiously against the ropes that bound her.

"I get it now. You treacherous snake!"

Corrin would never lose Lana to the government. She was worth much more to him than the forty-six million berry price on her head the navy had decided she deserved for her part in the Alabasta misunderstanding. This gambit of his was clever, but flawed. He thought he could manipulate the navy, defeat the straw hat pirates and reclaim Lana for himself.

"There's just one wrinkle in your plan, Corrin," Lana smirked. More than one, but only one that truly mattered. Her confidence caused Corrin's smug expression to waver momentarily. "When Zoro gets here... he's going to slaughter you!"

"Why you-"

"Don't be shaken," Tashigi ordered. "When Roronoa Zoro arrives I'll handle him."

'She'll handle him? Who the hell is this woman?'

It was apparent that she was a sword master. Lana knew enough about quality steel to tell at a glance that the blade Tashigi carried was fine indeed. Could this meek-looking woman really have the skills to take Zoro down?

'She... she seems so sure of herself!'

"Tashigi, is it?"

The marine turned when Lana addressed her.

"Tell me, sergeant major, what business could you possibly have with Zoro?" Lana pried.

Tashigi fixed her with an icy glare.

"I don't need to answer to pirate scum."

"Ugh, rude, aren't you?"

Tashigi walked away, leaving Lana fuming.

"Sanji! Nami! Wake up! You need to- Mmm!"

Corrin placed his hand over her mouth, leaning against the mast beside her.

"Don't get so worked up, Avariya," he purred. "You'll be home soon. Back here with me, where you belong. And this time..."

Lana's eyes widened in panic as Corrin raised his left hand. In his palm, his seeking mark glowed orange as he prepared to use it.

"... I'll make sure you never have a chance to escape again!"

Lana squirmed in vain, desperation rising from her chest to choke her. He was going to mark her again and she was helpless to stop it, just like the first time. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she cursed him silently with all her might.

'Damn you! Damn you, Corrin, you bastard! Will I never be free of you?!'

"You're mine, Avariya! Then, now and always!" Corrin declared.

Lana's broken sob of despair was muffled by Corrin's hand. She let her eyes slide shut, trembling as she waited hopelessly for him to claim her once more.

'I'll kill the bastard the first chance I get! I'll burn his ship to ashes even if I have to burn along with the rest of these bastards! He can't have me! Not again!'

A slash sang out like a miracle, followed by a tense, sudden gasp from Corrin. He screamed in agony and Lana's eyes flew open. Corrin's blood splattered across the mast, wet and warm on even Lana's fevered skin. Corrin stumbled back, leaving his arms on the deck at Lana's feet. He fell, screaming and flopping away like a gutted fish while blood sprayed against the planks of his ship.

"Zoro!" Lana gasped, laying eyes her crewmate. The expression on his face stunned her into silence. His rage was seething, his bloodlust uncontrolled. He stepped past Lana without sparing her a glance, too focused on his target. He sliced through the ropes that bound her in passing, his blade deeply scoring the mast a half-inch from her hand.

Lana collapsed to the deck, slipping on blood as she watched Zoro advance on Corrin like some vengeful spirit. He placed his foot on the Seeker captain's chest, immobilizing him completely.

"She's not yours," Zoro growled. Corrin whimpered under the intensity of his ruthlessness. Zoro raised Kietetsu, his voice rising with the blade.

"She never was, and she sure as hell never will be!" he roared.

"Please!" Corrin managed to cry out, to no avail. "Mercy! I beg-"

Zoro cut his pleas short, separating his head from his body with a strike so brutal that it cleaved clean through the deck below.

"Z-Zoro..."

Lana's voice quivered. Zoro was breathing hard, shaking despite the fact that his brief assault shouldn't have been an exertion. Lana got to her feet unsteadily as Zoro slashed the air off the port bow, sending Corrin's blood hurtling off Kietetsu into the sea. He sheathed the blade as Lana found her footing and met her teary eyes with hellfire burning in his gaze. It was a terrifying sight to behold, but Lana was too shocked to feel fear.

"You killed him!"

"The bastard had his hands on you. Of course I killed him!"

Lana's lip trembled and she couldn't stop the tears from streaming down her face.

"Oh... Z-Zoro!"

"Tch, don't tell me you wanted me to spare that scum?" he scoffed, misreading her expression as he often did. "Well, I don't- hhng!"

Lana threw her arms around him, burying her face against his chest as she struggled to compose herself. Gratitude overwhelmed her, disbelief settling in to replace the terror she'd felt in the face of Corrin's return. It was over now, forever this time. Seeker Corrin would never, ever hound her again.

"Thank you!" she managed, her words muffled by his shirt. Knowing Zoro, she expected him to shrug her off or play it cool. Instead, she felt his arms around her, returning her firm embrace. His fingers crept into her hair as he held her, silently assuring her that he would kill for her again in a heartbeat.

Lana had never felt so safe in her life.

"Roronoa!"

Tashigi's voice cut the moment to shreds, tearing Lana back to reality. She and Zoro separated, turning to face the marine as she drew her blade and leveled it at Zoro. Behind her, the Seeker pirates reacted to the gruesome death of their captain with a range of emotions from shock, to anger, to despair.

"Suck it, assholes!" Lana jeered at the men who had done their part to torment her over the five years she'd spent sailing as their captive. "And you... boy, are you in for it now, little miss sergeant major! Zoro's gonna take you down too! Right, Zoro?"

"Uh... aw, crap! What the hell is she doing here?!"

"Huh?"

Lana realized Zoro's disposition had changed entirely as soon as he set eyes on Tashigi. He looked... squeamish?

"Zoro, what's the deal?" Lana demanded. "There's a swordsman challenging you, aren't you going to fight?"

"No way! I'm not fighting her!" Zoro declared.

"What?!" Lana gaped, her jaw dropping to the deck.

______________________________________________

<== Previous Chapter

Next Chapter ==>

== First Chapter ==

[uptoolateart]

All the Missing Pieces - Ch 25

PREVIEW:

When Adrien woke the next morning, he wasn’t sure what hurt worse – the hangover from that drink Lila had bought him, or the glass of cold water dumped over his head, hauling him back into consciousness.

He shrieked and rolled off the sofa, slamming onto the floor. His whole body ached, his face stung with cold, and water dripped from his hair and clothes. He squinted in the light at the raging goddess pacing lengths up and down the living room.

‘I can’t believe I was here feeling guilty about missing last night, and you…!’

‘Whoa, whoa!’ He pulled himself up and sat on the sofa, steadying himself because the room was spinning and the lights were way too bright. ‘Slow down. What did I do?’

Marinette halted mid-step and turned a laser glare on him that he feared might truly burn him to ashes where he sat. ‘What did you do?’ She laughed without humour. ‘I suppose you’re going to use the alcohol as an excuse. Tell me you don’t remember a thing and of course there’s nothing between the two of you!’

‘I…what? The two of who?’

‘The least you could do is be honest with me, Adrien. After all these years together, I cannot believe you’re playing dumb here. You know damn well what you did. On our anniversary, of all nights! Drunk. Doesn’t. Excuse it.’

He drew back as far as he could, wishing he could bury himself in the sofa, and maybe into the wall, and maybe go straight through the ground and come out in some other country. He’d never heard her speak to him – to anyone – so coldly.

‘Marinette, I honestly do not have the slightest idea what you could be talking about. Yesterday, you stood me up. I waited and waited, and even left you that voicemail, but you didn’t show up. I went and had a drink, yes, and….’ He trailed off, a terrible thought filling his mind.

‘And what?’ Her fists were on her hips. The look on her face said she already knew the rest of his story.

‘I…I ran into Lila. She came up to me and started talking to me and…and….’

‘And?’

‘And she made a move on me, okay? But I turned her down and I left.’

There was a flicker in her eyes, like she was considering that he might be telling the truth. Then her expression hardened again. ‘Really. That’s all that happened.’

‘Yes! What else would happen?’ He was starting to feel angry, now. Was she really accusing him of what he thought she was? Did she trust him that little?

‘I know you’ve been talking with her behind my back for a while,’ she blurted. ‘Alya told me.’

His instincts had been right. Lila was definitely a viper. ‘It’s not how it sounds.’

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘So, you admit it.’

‘Isn’t that…what you wanted?’

‘No!’ she shouted, then she gripped her head. ‘I came home last night as soon as I could – to be with you – to make it up to you.’

‘You…you did?’ So he hadn’t dreamed that.

‘I felt so terrible seeing you that way. You never drink like that. I thought we could spend today together, but now…I don’t know how I can ever look you in the eyes again.’ She whispered this in a way that broke his heart.

He staggered to his feet. ‘Marinette, you have to believe me. There’s nothing going. I only didn’t tell you about Lila because she’s so annoying and…kind of a stalker. You have so much else going on, I didn’t want to bother and upset you. I get that I made a mistake. I should have told you right away, but…please. You have to believe me.’ He reached for her, but she pulled her hand away and took a step back.

‘I don’t have to believe anything,’ she said, though her voice was shaky. ‘I…I need some air.’

He stood back and gave a small nod. ‘Okay. Okay, yeah. You need your space, I get it. But you’ll…you’ll be back…right?’

Keep reading at Ao3

[lunaliora]

Late Night Practice

Rated M; Hyunlix

Hyunjin and Felix get some much-needed quiet time

“Again.” Minho said leaning against the practice room mirror arms crossed as he watched the group practice from behind.

They were about fifteen days out from the start of the U.S. leg of their maniac tour and the pressure was on. They were going on hour ten in the practice room. Remnants of their time together spread throughout the space. Take out boxes stacked by the door, piles of empty water bottles, and the occasional piece of clothing littered the floor.

“Come on Hyung! My legs are about to give out from underneath me.” Changbin said slumped over trying to catch his breath as they finished the dance. 

The others were in similar states of exhaustion as they one by one settled to the floor of the practice room. They had been running through the show over and over until it was burned into the backs of their eyelids and their blood flowed to the rhythm of each song. Chan looked up at the clock on the wall, it read 2am. His lips turned down.

“Yeah, Minho I am calling it.” He said as he joined the rest of the members on the floor.  The members exchanged relieved looks with each other as they massaged their aching muscles. Felix found himself laying across Hyunjin’s thighs his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

Minho rolled his eyes before coming to settle next to the eldest male his head leaning against his shoulder. “I guess you are right, we have been practicing for almost 12 hours.” He brought his water bottle to his lips once more taking a long drink.

“I am going to head to the studio to finish up what I was doing, but the rest of you head home.” He said his tone firm as he brought himself to a standing position. “I mean it, I will come back here and check before I head home. No more practicing.”  He ran his fingers through each of the members hair before he grabbed his bag and headed to the elevator.

One by one the members emptied out of the practice room with sounds of their aching limbs and cracking joints, the wear and tear of being idols making itself known.

Soon the only two left sprawled across the mahogany flooring were Hyunjin and Felix.

“I supposed we should get going too…the others might worry about us.” Felix said softly his face now firmly pressed into the inside of the elder dancers thigh.

Hyunjin had been lost in his thoughts, his hand pulling absent mindedly through the younger aussies locks. “Mhmm not yet, you and I haven’t gotten a lot of time alone together these days.” He said his tone softer as he switched to the others native tongue. Hyunjin only did this when they were alone, to help the other truly understand the poetry he spoke over the others frame when they were together.

“Chan…will be back soon, we don’t wanna be here when he checks, you know what would happen.” Felix said his tone slightly heightened.

Hyunjin couldn’t help the playful smirk that fell on his lips at the sound of the others worried tone.

“We don’t need that long..” Hyunjin said his fingers moving to slip beneath Felix’s chin lifting it slightly. “And you have always mentioned wanting to…do stuff in the practice room.” Hyunjin’s cheeks turned a rosy hue at the thought.

“Oh…that’s what you have in mind.” Felix said pulling himself onto his knees, hands moving to rest on the limber dancers thighs leaning towards the other his lips brushing gently against his nose. “This is definitely a change you initiating things…” he murmured his fingertips creeping further up Hyunjin’s thighs his lips moving to press gently against the others.

His senses being filled with the scent of his shampoo, the taste of his mint lip balm and the ever so lingering scent of paint thinner, a scent he has become so accustomed to when embracing Hyunjin that it now has become a comfort. 

“We do not need that much time.” Felix said against the others skin his lips moving to Hyunjin’s slender jaw. His hands sliding to his waist fingers slipping along the edge of the elders waist band. His eyes flicked to the others as he whispered quietly. “Can I?” he was careful to always ask permission when they found themselves in these situations, the other being fairly new to the whole thing.

“P-please.” He whimpered quietly his hips tipping up to meet Felix’s touch. Hyunjin’s whimpers were music to Felix’s ears and his ever-hardening length that fought against the fabric of his pants. Felix was quick to slip his hands beneath the elders waistband his fingers moving to brush along the others cock that was sheathed beneath the other’s boxers.

“Don’t tease me.” Hyunjin snapped as he pressed up into Felix’s palm wanting to feel even just a little bit friction.

“We don’t have anything here to prep you.” Felix said bringing his palm down onto the others length pressing down lightly as he began to stroke the other.

Felix couldn’t help the sly grin that grew on his lips with each stroke of his palm that had the other beginning to whimper.

“I don’t care.” He whined as he leaned back on his hands head tipping back. Felix withdrew his hand from the others pants and moved to slide between the others thighs his hands now resting on his hips. He slipped his index fingers beneath the elders joggers before his eyes went to the others face giving a testing tug on the band.

“Felix if you don’t take them off-“Hyunjin spat his eyes now showing the ever present want radiating from the rest of his frame. Felix chuckled as he pulled the black pants off his hips, he brought his lips down pressing gentle kisses on each inch of revealed skin. Once they reached Hyunjin’s knees he was gentle as he pulled each leg out of the fabric and placed it around his hip leaning against the now ever-present bulge between Hyunjin’s thighs.

Felix ran his fingers across Hyunjin’s calves first, then his thighs tracing every mark from the long practices the last few days “You never let me put cream on these..” Felix frowned as he leaned into press a kiss to a purpling mark above Hyunjin’s knee.

“There are too many of them to even worry about it anymore, they are just the paint on the canvas that is my body.” He murmured his fingers moving down Felix’s arm to his pants. “Let me help you out of these?” Hyunjin asked leaning up slightly.

“Since when have you asked to take my clothes off?” Felix teased before giving the other a nod his hands moving to rest on the elders thighs, letting him work the joggers from his hips and down his thighs before speeding up the rest of the process on his own using his feet to pull them the rest of the way off. Felix reached forward to pull the limber dancer into his lap, his fingers moving immediately to his hair as he pulled him into a heady kiss. He could feel the others hands sliding across his skin, tracing each line in his muscles, gripping his skin. Felix let his own hands move across Hyunjin’s skin.

Hyunjin was the first to break the kiss murmuring against the others throat. “Mhmm we are going to run out of time..” His tone was hushed as he felt his fingertips slip beneath the elastic of her boxers.

Felix leaned forward to lay Hyunjin back on onto the cool wood of the practice room floor. Felix made quick work of stripping Hyunjin of his boxers. Twirling them around his finger he tossed them towards his bag at the other side of the room.  Hyunjin couldn’t contain his giggle at the amount of bravado the other was putting on.

Felix slid two fingers between his lips sucking gently on them trying to coat them in enough saliva, before he slid them between the cheeks of Hyunjin’s ass circling his bud gently before pressing a digit against his entrance his eyes flickering to Hyunjin as he spoke “You tell me if it hurts okay?” Felix said his lips turned up as he slowly sank a finger inside the other. The low whimper from the other was music to his ears.

He wiggled his digit inside the other pressing against his walls trying to make more space for his second digit. He slid his finger in further until he found the familiar ball of nerves. He gently pressed against it his eyes flicking to the other.

“Uh Fuck!” Hyunjin practically bucked off his finger, he brought his free hand around to settled him down pressing him firmly into the practice room floor. “That’s just one finger Hyunjin, what are you going to do when its my cock?” He asked raising his brow once more as he began to move the single digit gently inside the other each movement taking the chance to brush against the others most sensitive spot.

“W-well..ah!” He saw the others face flush a soft pink as he saw the pleasure begin to appear on his face. “Just… w-warn me.” He said his hands covering his face. Felix chuckled softly as he slowly picked up the pace of the single digit.

Soon the whimpers began to fill the room, he felt the other begin to relax around his finger his free hand moving to wrap around his length to match the pace of his finger. He glanced up at the youngers face that was now the color of his hair, eyes rolled back slightly and his lips parted. “Hyun..Im going to put a second finger in now is that okay?” He asked the second finger brushing against his ass.

“Yeah..go ahead… mhmm.” Hyunjin said his hips now moving against each thrust of Felix’s fingers.

Felix gently pressed the second finger inside the other stretching them apart to make room for more movement. His other hand increased its pace on Hyunjin’s length, precum beginning to dribble down its tip.

“Well, look at you creating some lube for us. How thoughtful.” He said clicking his tongue and wiping off the tip and stretching it between his fingers, he teasingly brought it to his lips letting his tongue dart out to taste it. “You still taste so sweet.” He murmured before bringing the rest of it to his entrance swiping it gently against it.  He made sure to get some on the fingers he was using to prep the other that slid more fluidly.

He picked up the pace of his fingers and his hand matching each stroke, he couldn’t help but flick his eyes between how tight Hyunjin felt around his digits to the look of bliss on the elders face and finally to his own reflection in the mirror, the light tinge to his cheeks, the swell of his arms as they thrusted into the limber dancer splayed out in front of him.

“Ah…fuck Felix!” Hyunjin whined as his direction was brought back to the dancer who was coming undone by his touch. Felix glanced down at the others frame, he slowed the strokes of hand and the thrusts of his fingers as he spoke. “Are you ready for a third finger?” Felix murmured leaning forward to brush his lips across the others. Hyunjin hungerly kissed the other in return, taking that as a yes, Felix slid a third finger into the elder his lips parting as Hyunjin gasped into the kiss.

“That’s it Baby boy, take my fingers.” Felix murmured into Hyunjin’s ear, he gave a little firmer of a thrust into the other eliciting the most delicious moan from the other. He let his fingers curl slightly brushing against the sensitive bundle cradled just past his fingertips.

“F-felix..please! I…fuck…please!” he whimpered his hand coming down to wrap around Felix’s wrist to try to speed his pace. Felix couldn’t help the sly grin that spread across his lips.  “You almost ready for me?” He asked spreading his fingers more feeling even less resistance.  Felix’s eyes furrowed as he released the others length to begin easing his own boxers down from around his hips before he spoke. “Hyunjin, I don’t have a condom, I can’t finish in you this time..the mess.” He spoke his tone tight as he released his cock from his boxers. His eyes flicked to his frame in the mirror a cheeky grin, he couldn’t help but admire the silhouette of their entwined figures.

He gave a few more firm thrusts of his fingers before he pulled them away, a confused sound escaping Hyunjin’s lips. Felix was quick to capture them with his own kissing him gently, he brought his hands around the elders hips before whispering “I want you to watch yourself in the mirror while I am inside you.” He settled back onto the floor in a sitting position before pulling Hyunjin into his lap his length sliding between the elders cheeks. He gave the other a few more strokes, coaxing more precum to spill out to use as lubrication. Covering his cock in it, he pulled Hyunjin’s ass cheeks apart and a gently pressed against his entrance slowly, letting the elder settle onto him at his own pace. Felix’s eyes flicked up to watch Hyunjin as he sunk onto him taking in a breath as he began to feel the inside of Hyunjin’s walls swallowing him with ease. Before he realized it he had sunk himself to the hilt inside the other.

“You move when you’re ready Hyunjin, Just make sure you keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror.” His lips at the elders ear “I can watch your expressions in the back mirror.”  He paused his head turning to look at Hyunjin. “Okay?” he asked reaching for the elders chin.

“Mhmm.. mmm.” Hyunjin replied his eyes already on himself in the mirror as he found his balance on his knees.

Felix let his hands wander beneath the elders shirt as he began to move his hips. Gentle inching of his hips already had Felix is a chokehold. He traced his fingers along each line of Hyunjin’s chest. A small groan escaping his lips as he felt Hyunjin begin to move with a bit more purpose.

“Do you like what you see Lix?” Hyunjin murmured his hips beginning to find their rhythm.

Felix struggled to find his words, his head now swimming with pleasure each thrust of Hyunjin’s hips on top of him had him reeling. He found him self groaning each time Hyunjin settled into his lap.

“Mhmm. You are just so enticing to watch, just like when you dance…” Felix spoke bringing his fingers to the others hips to encourage the other to pick up his pace, His eyes flicking between Hyunjin and then Hyunjin’s face in the mirror. He leaned forward placing his chin on the elders shoulder before leaning down to nip at the elders shoulder giving a firmer thrust up into the elder. The noise Hyunjin let slip from his lips had Felix reeling his grip tightening as he began to thrust up into the limber dancer.

“You look so good with me inside you, your cheeks are flushed to almost the same color as your hair.” Felix whispered into the elders ear nipping at it lightly. Hyunjin’s whimpers echoed off the walls of the practice room. Hyunjin struggled to form a sentence as his brain was swimming with each thrust. He brought his fingertips to his own cock and stroking it with each thrust of Felix’s cock inside him.  

“Hyunjin….I’m going to cum soon…” Felix growled burying his face into the crook of the elders neck his pace now erratic as he chased his own release. Hyunjin threw his head back onto the elders shoulder his breathing irregular. “Me…t-too.” Felix could feel the others arm moving as he stroked his length with each thrust of his own hips into him. Like a well timed choreography they soon hit their peaks within moments of each other.

Felix bit down onto the others throat as the first warm ribbons began to spill inside the elder his pace slowing as he milked each ribbon from his length. He suckled gently against the others flushed skin as he slowed. His fingers reached around to wrap around the others hands that were milking the cum from his own length, their breathing now beginning to shallow each breath now matching the others.

“That…was hot.” Hyunjin said a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he brought his hand to Felix’s lips “Aren’t you going to help clean me up Lixie?” He murmured. Felix was all to happy to lap the cum from the top of the elders hand his lips parted as he ran his tongue across the others flushed skin.

Once the other’s hands were clean Felix lifted the other from his lap gently his cock sliding from the others slick entrance with ease. He couldn’t help his chuckle as he saw his cum slipping from the elder entrance.

“You’re going to need to wrap your sweater around your hips, you’re definitely going to have a wet spot on your sweats…” his tongue clicked as he gave a playful slap to the others bare bottom. Hyunjin rolled his eyes “Wet spot I can explain but the nice red hickey I have now? Talk about a lack of subtlety.” Hyunjin pursed his lips as he examined himself in the mirror, still naked from the waist down.

Felix looked up at the clock his eyes wide as he noticed the time. “Shit! Chan will be back to check on us soon to make sure we went home.”  Felix scrambled to his feet grabbing his joggers yanking them over his frame. Hyunjin joined Felix in the scramble doing their best to clean up any mess they had made on the floor infront of the mirror.

They grabbed their bags and throwing them over their shoulders and made their way to the practice room door, reaching to turn the knob on the door, the pair was startled as the door opened in front of them. Chan peeked his head into the room his lips turned down into a frown “Didn’t I tell you two to go home an hour ago?” He asked his eyebrow raised

“We were working on some choreography ideas Chris, we are just headed out now.” Felix said smoothly pushing against the door with his hand. Chan’s eyes scanned Felix’s first then flicked to Hyunjin taking in the still flushed look. His eyes narrowed when he spotted the now purpling spot on the others throat.

“Sure…yeah, okay just get home I’ll be right behind you.” Chan said stepping aside. Felix and Hyunjin stepped out into the hallway and made their way towards the front door of the company, curious Chan stepped inside the practice room looking around before he spotted a pile of clothes near the mirror. Chuckling he walked over and scooped them up with his fingertip. “If they were gonna play in here, they should of made sure to clean up…” he laughed slinging his bag off his shoulder and dropping them inside making a mental note that he needed to discreetly pass these to Hyunjin at the dorm..at least now the noticeable chemistry had a reason.

[kshira]

ミ DAY THREE — RINTARO SUNA + HATE FUCKING

summary: your most hated classmate is at the same halloween party as you, fuck or ignore him this go around?

wc. 1,738

tw. fem!reader, college au! cursing, teasing, degradation, literal hate fucking, suna being a menace, fingering, hair pulling, brat taming, hard dom suna! w/ sub reader

an. based on this request, though this can be read alone. my third piece for kinktober, i hope you enjoy! <3

✰ kinktober masterlist

“beer?” the tall lingering shadow asks you, fingers nudging a red solo cup in your direction, you never make eye contact instead swatting away the drink.

“no, not drinking” you mumble, eyes trained on your phone, easing away from the tension of hoards of people crowding around you, not knowing anyone—or not caring enough to know anyone.

“that’s too bad, you truly are so stuck up” the voice is husky, taunting you from your enclosed shell, you snap your eyes to the figure, his lips curling when you finally make eye contact.

“you have got to be fucking kidding me” you rasp, deadpan expression when suna smiles down on you “oh sweetheart, don’t act so happy to see me” he laughs, pulling a strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear “you’re looking beautiful as ever.”

“whatever, i’m leaving” your white dress catches wind when you spin around, heading towards the door and out of this shitty halloween party and even more shit since he’s here.

suna watches your back inch towards the door, pushing past cheap costumes and messy colored faces, he pauses a second to collect his thoughts, mind running different scenarios—he follows behind you.

he watches from afar, your body slumping against the brick wall in defeat, halo hung on your head tilting down when your face crashes in your hands, shoulders dropping and suna feels somewhat bad for being a nuisance to you everyday in class.

the feeling doesn’t last though when he thinks about how cute your face scrunches up from frustration of him, eyes knocking in the back of your head at his obnoxious comments and he most certainly cannot forget how hard you came on his fingers weeks ago—in class.

“i can see you” you look up from your position on the ground, drawing your eyes over to his taller shadow, hands shoved in his pocket whilst he tries to hide behind a bush, “is the horns isn’t it?” he flashes a grin, poking his fingers on the red makeshift devil horns on his head.

and again, rintaro suna makes your gut twist at his annoyance but within the moonlight peeking through covered trees, he matches the look—so devilishly handsome.

“wanna get outta here, angel?” he questions, “my dorm is right around the block, gotta bed with your name on it” he motions his finger across the street, you could deny to the gods right now he doesn’t make your stomach churn at his obvious flirting but it’s a whatever situation at this point; whatever happens, happens.

“don’t call me that” you grunt, jumping to your feet and walking to his side, “but that’s what you are, the angel of my dreams” he coos, turning to face you “you know i’ve been thinking” he pauses, eyeing over your disgusted face made at him, he internally laughs at how much you truly do hate him “your pussy—”

your cheeks feel hot, warmth collecting in the apples when suna leans in closer to your face “how tight you were wrapped around my fingers, how hard you came” he whispers now, hot breath fanning over your lips “what do you think you’d do if that was my dick instead?”

you stay silent, lip held tight between your teeth till the point of blood rising to the surface, suna made your blood boil—you’ve hated sitting beside him in class, you hated him—hatred had spread so much to the point that when nights felt lonely, all you could think about was him when your fingers sunk deep in your hole, pumping to the thought of him doing it instead and that alone just added fuel to the fire.

“but enough about your perfect cunt—come on” suna intertwined his fingers with yours dragging you to the door of his apartment complex, he turns to you opening the door “last chance to run away” he leans down to your level, lips brushing against your ear “tomorrow you probably won’t even be able to walk.”

“you’re an ignorant prick, i swear” your jaw tightens, walking through the door he’s held open for you, turning to him once he begins following behind “you’ll barely get a peep outta me” you flip your hair at the comment and suna could of sworn his dick twitches in response.

“sit” he motions, large hand padding beside him on the small bed “oh.. i guess you probably don’t listen to what you’re told” suna grins, his devil horns shining brightly on his raven locks “would you please sit beside me, my sweet innocent angel?” your eyes squint at him, watching his head cock to the side, curiosity settles in his bones, he just loves to toy with you anyway he can.

your leg brushes against his when you bounce down on the bed, “so my angel can listen to demands” suna flickers his eyes over your costume, glossing on your bare legs and back up to your bleak eyes “i told you not to call me that” you roll your shoulders, settling into his bed.

suna raises his head from looking over your body, his hand rising to card through your hair, his soft is touch—tenderly drawing the digit down to your plump lips “what should i call you when i fuck you then?” he hums, finger dipping inside your mouth and not another thought crosses your mind but sucking on it.

suna watches your lips wrap around his digit, bobbing your head down on his thick finger, you pull off with a pop—he groans, fingers running along your chin and gripping your face towards him “answer me, angel.”

you’d had enough of this, your cunt throbbed whenever he looked at you, thighs rubbed when he talked to you and you’d gave up on this game—you wanted him now.

“d-don’t care anymore, just fuck me—please” you beg, lips crashing against his own, bigger palms swallowing your face as he moves you on his lap, your clothed pussy grinding on his bulge “just like that, you’re putty in my fucking hands, you slut.”

suna lifts your dress above your head, hands coming down to unhook and toss your bra on the floor, mouth guiding down to twirl his tongue on your perked nipple, his calloused fingers skimming the soft skin “you won’t be smart after tonight” he says, pushing you down on the bed, yanking his shirt off—the devil horns tilting down his raven hair and tumbling down beside you “i’m going to fuck you stupid.”

“just shut up and do it you pussy” you moan, pushing down the last fabric tied to your body, fingers messily grabbing onto his broad shoulder connecting him back with your lips “i don’t even know why i’m doing this, you’re disgusting, a fucking idiot with no brain cell in that stupid head” you whimper, trying to act the part but his fingers sink inside your cunt—played all over again like in class; you truly are just putty in his hands.

“and here you are, opening your legs for me—begging me to fuck you. cock hungry whore” he spats, curling his fingers inside your tight walls, moaning out when he watches your back arch off his bed.

“fuck you” you grip at his hand, tears prickling your vision at the thrusts of his fingers, knuckles knocking against your bare ass “don’t be so impatient, angel” he smirks, pulling his soaked fingers out and loosing his clothes to the floor, cock fisting in his hand suna aligns it with his hole.

“god, rin—fucking god” you mewl when he finally pushes in your hole, hands caressing down your bare thighs and hiking them over his shoulders “you’re so tight” he groans, starting a slow pace into you, his hands coming down on either side of your face and you don’t want to, you hate to admit it but you’re searching for him through his pumps inside you, you want him.

“i remember all those times you bitched at me for coming late to class, yelling at me when i turned in work wrong” suna pauses, he leans down further until his nose brushes across your face, lips so close you can smell the lingering alcohol on his breath added with sugary candy “but all i thought about was fucking your brains out, fucking you till you couldn’t even fuckin’ talk.”

suna just laughs to himself when you clench back, words left unspoken from either pure rage or the fact of how good he was fucking you. he’s craved this for so long, the endless nights fucking his fist to your warm cunt, ignoring anybody that came his way because the thrill of you hating him was just so much better.

“i’m close” you manage to slip the words out, hips rocking to his deep thrusts, hands slipping between the strands of your hair to grab a fistful and guide your mouth to his “cum on my cock, be the good little slut you are” he coos, tightening his grip and pumping his dick harder until white creeps into your vision.

“cum for me angel” he snarls, hips snapping faster—ascending into the pleasure with you suna feels his cock throbbing harder, pulsating through the tight grip your pussy has on him “i’m gonna cum, may i?” he politely asks, laughing when you can’t answer back, eyes rolling inside your head, “already fucked stupid huh?” he taunts when you start to unravel under him, legs shaking and trembling when the white coats your body.

“yes—cum in me, wanna feel it” you whimper, the prominent veins that run through his cock drag against your walls, sending you into an overstimulation of nerves but god did it feel good, and suna just eats it up, finally fucking you, cumming inside you—all it took was the bare miminuim and here you were.

“mmh, take it all you fucking slut, gonna fill this pussy up” suna snaps into you one more time, drilling deep in your cunt till he paints your walls with pretty white ribbons of his seed. suna smiles down on you, lips curling devilishly when you avoid his stare “i still fucking hate you” you say, pushing him off of you, the ache between your legs already taking effect.

suna leans back from you, running his hand through his hair as he watches you wobble around to grab your clothes “really? because i like you.” and you think he’s just spouting absolute bullshit like he always does but when you turn back to look at him, his features soften and that gleam hangs in his eyes—the same one when you first met him.

tagging— @chronic-claire-universe @ravenina14 @mattsunmakkilovebot @bakugousmrs @hqintheclub

[poutyniall]

Yoongi and reader with tattooss plssss

That's definitely not what you were thinking about but I hope you like it! And I apologize for the delay, I'm truly sorry dear.

You walk into the bedroom with a few small sheets of paper, a pair of scissors and a wet sponge in your hands. Sitting in the middle of the bed, legs crossed and hands lazily resting in his lap, Yoongi's brows furrow a bit as he tries to figure out what you're holding, before quickly flick his eyes back on yours, while your feet come to a stop at the end of the bed. “You lost the bet but, luckily for you, I'm a softhearted so I’ll spare you the awful pain of a real tattoo. You can pick from these.” you say holding up the little sheets of paper. You watch his eyes soften as the anxiety sweeps away, stare drifting over the vast array of tiny temporary tattoos. Sticking your tongue out at him, you crawl on the bed to reach him. ''Let's get it over with this.'' he snorts, snatching the sheets from your hands, lips pouting. You can't help but giggle. ''This one.'' he informs you as he points to a tattoo of a colorful kite. “Good choice,” you tease him, an eye roll as response, “now take off your shirt and lay down.” “What?” he squeaks out “Why do I have to do that for? Just put it on my wrist or something…”. You shake your head, grabbing the papers back from his lap. “No way oppa, I get to choose where it goes.” Smiling sweetly at him as he, again, rolls his eyes in a huff, you watch as his shoulders slump forward, knowing he had no choice but to comply. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbles under his breath as he grabs at the hem of his t-shirt and yanks it over his head, “get away with too much shit…” “Oh shut up” you giggle, a hand brushing his upper arm as he tosses the shirt on the floor and scoot his body back on the bed to lay down. You can't avoid letting your gaze eagerly glide over his exposed torso, teeth sinking down into your bottom lip. Tipping your head slightly, you move your body to straddle him, splayed hands slowly dragging over his chest as he tucks his chin down to watch your movements. He chuckles out, catching your stare. “Just….have to f…here!” you talk to yourself, suddenly stop when you spot the area along his ribs. Yoongi lifts his head just a bit as you point your finger against his skin. “There?” he asks, looking back up at you with a crinkled brow, “No one can see it…” “Do you want people to see it?” “I guess not…” he answers, dropping his head back down and bringing up one hand to run through his hair. You begin to prepare the small tattoo while Yoongi quietly watches you, cutting out the tiny picture and peeling off the plastic backing before pushing it right on his skin and he lets out a tiny giggle from the slight ticklish sensation. Your eyes fly to his face as you grab the sponge and press it against the piece of paper to wet it, feeling his hands come down and rest on the top of your thighs. Your upper body lean over his a little as you lift the sponge and slowly pull the thin paper away, revealing his brand new tattoo. You chuckle at how cute it looks on him and he quickly peeks down to get a peek at it. Before he can even open his mouth to comment you pick up the sheet of tattoos again, letting your eyes wander over it “Okay, now which one…” “Yah, I thought I was only doing one.” You look down at him. “I never said that.” “But you…” he stops, knitting his brows as he thinks over your earlier conversation and comes to the fast conclusion that you are, in fact, right “Fuck.” You burst out a giggle as you go back to choosing the next tattoo. “I mean, if you aren’t going to get a real tattoo, then you have to let me do a few of these temporary ones instead….it’s only fair.” ''Do whatever you want.'' he huffs, shaking his head. Ten minutes and nine tattoos later, you can barely contain your laughter as you let your gaze soak in the highly unlikely view of your boyfriend spread out on your bed, half naked and covered in a variety of colorful fake children’s tattoos. Rainbows, flowers and hearts, a balloon, a four leaf clover, a teddy bear and a little blushy smiley face. He had given up complaining about halfway through it, your giggles causing him to laugh along with him just when you finish slapping the four leaf clover right above his belly button. “I look like an idiot.” he states, glimpsing up at you. “You look cute,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders, “but also an idiot.” Grabbing your hips, he drops his head back in a loud groan, exposing his delicate throat to you as you stare down at him. You know this isn't meant to be sexy, you're just playing around, but seeing him sprawled out underneath you, practically naked and hearing his groans, you genuinely couldn’t help yourself. “Alright, last one,” you murmur, sliding your body down his thighs. He quickly snaps his head back up to look at you. “I thought that was it.” he says, eyes flicking between the tiny tattoos, “Don’t you think that’s enough, kitten?” A mischievous grin appears your lips and you lightly shake your head. ''It's the last one, I promise.” His gaze narrows at you as he slowly rests his head back and you reach over to the front of his pants, pulling in a breath. With your heart racing fast in your chest, you watch Yoongi’s stomach tense, the soft touch of your fingers over his fair, sensitive skin sending a wave of shivers across his body. Breathing out a smile, you carefully unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper, Yoongi slightly lifts his hips up off the bed so you can tug at his pants, bringing his boxers down with them, letting them rest across the mid of his thighs. You let your eyes take in the sight before you. He isn't hard, just laying soft among the soft hairs and, licking over your lips, you pick up the sheet of paper and start cutting around the tattoo. Yoongi is silent, breathing slowly as he keeps his stare on you. Secretly glancing past the edge of the paper,  you see him starting to twitch, his length pulsing as it grows bigger by the second. There's something about watching him slowly getting hard, skin growing taut and tip flushing a bright pink as it throbs. Fighting off the urge to giggle, you finish cut the tattoo and carefully set down the scissors before picking up the sponge. You sneak a quick peek at his face: he has his bottom lip tucked in between his teeth as his eyes stays glued on your hands. You bend over, putting yourself flush with the fully hardened length of him that's waiting for you. “Love…” he breathes out, you look up at him across his heated skin. His eyes gazes over your face for a moment before he rolls them, faintly shaking his head. Easing your hand around his swollen length, you gently held it up away from the skin of his pubic bone. “Are you putting that on my” “Shush!” “Jesus fucking chr...” You try to hold in the laughs as you look up at his face, watching as he raises his arms and runs his hands through his black, long hair, chest rising in a deep inhale. Biting down your lip, you gently place the tattoo against the underside of his dick, your body wriggling in stifled giggles as you peel off the plastic backing and pushed the corner of the sponge against his shaft. His body jolts from the coldness of the water and you hold him still in your hand while gently patting across the paper to make sure it was soaking wet. “I swear, you are fucking mental,” he breathes out as you tilt your head just a bit waiting for the thirty seconds to be up.

‘’Almost surely” you mumble, slowly peeling the paper away to reveal the new tattoo and lightly blow on his damp skin, “but he seems to love me, so I won't worry about that.” Sitting up, you let go of him and set the sponge down as Yoongi’s head pops up off the bed. “Are you done?” he asks, scrunching up his nose “Where is it? I can’t see anything.''

“Right here” you says, brushing your fingertip the underside of his dick “It looks good.” He reaches down and grabs around his tip, pulling his length to the side a bit, trying to get a better look. “I still can’t see,” he chuckles out, flicking his eyes to yours “What is it?”

You smirk. “It’s a kitten” you state, watching as his eyes go wide, “you know, ’cause you're a little meow meow and you love my pussy so much.” “Oh my...” he bursts out in a laugh, squeezing his eyes shut, head toppling back down to the mattress and shoulders shaking. The sound of his laugh warms you from the inside. Scrambling down on top of him, still giggling, you cup his jaw in your hands and his eyes pop open to look at you and you feel his arms wrapping tight around your body.

“Guess you know better now than to make a bet with me, don’t you?”

One of his hand moves up to brush away a rebellious lock of hair from the side of your face, your eyes fluttering from his delicate touch, unconsciously following his hand to lengthen the touch. “No,” he tells you, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, “I’ll just have to make sure I win next time.”

[omegahime]

random aew sex headcanons pt.2

warnings: smut (minors dni), more filthy things. i tried to be as neutral as possible so, gn!reader. mentions of breeding kink, brat taming, daddy kink, marking, exhibitionism, and size kink.

adam page

still on the boat of adam being a bit vanilla but the greatest thing abt him is how he can be so sweet while pummeling you to pieces

stroking your hair, rubbing his thumb over your cheeks, smiling and telling you how gorgeous you look like this all while balls deep in you

it’s like he doesn’t know his own strength sometimes bc the way he just slams into you like he’ll have the bed rattling against the wall

i also get major brat tamer vibes from him as well though

you almost cant even commit to being too much of a brat bc god it’s the way his voice kind of gets rlly deep and he stares right through your soul, “watch your tone, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

but yeah major praise kink likes his hair pulled too

not super loud but the occasional grunt or moan of “good god, you feel amazing.”

big big breeding kink but also loves the sight of your face covered in his cum

is wall sex a kink? idk he likes fucking you up against walls

like there’s a lot of times where you don’t make it to the bed so you’re pressed up against a wall or leaning over a counter

ricky starks

he’s cocky but not in an asshole way

he just knows ur body so well he knows exactly what to do to get you off, ur every little tick

and it makes sex incredible bc he always does it right

also .. obligatory stroke daddy reference bc duh stroke game go dummy

loves some hair pulling, loves it when you scratch his back or dig ur nails into his his thighs in particular

ricky gives you the kind of sex that puts you right to sleep fr and then u wake up to him cooking breakfast he’s husband material truly

but god does he love it it makes him feel great that he can just tire you out like that he lowkey has a couple pictures of you just slumped drooling on ur pillow

haha daddy kink go brr

“you like how daddy fucks you, baby? tell me how much you love it.”

likes you in doggy so he can grab your waist. knows he’s in really deep and finds it amusing when you naturally start to scoot away but can’t you guys just imagine him in your ear like “stop running.”

jungle boy

listen don’t kill me but .. very very vanilla

at the most i could see him liking outdoors sex (there was this fic i read, it was rlly good but i can’t remember who wrote it so if you know feel free to rb with the link!!)

but he’s kind of shy, lowkey, doesn’t like to do a lot of the crazy shit when it comes to sex

i have this theory he’s loud af in bed though

like that’s one of the places he feels most comfortable, in bed with you, so he doesn’t censor himself in the slightest. you’ll know he’s enjoying himself

big dick energy like a mf he loves it when you ride him but it feels like sitting on a spear

when you two first had sex it took a lot to get used to his length

loves to give head, just loves putting his mouth on you

likes to kiss you right as you’re hitting your climax, loves the way you moan into his mouth

really likes it when you’re all dressed up, takes a lot for him not to just rip your clothes off and fuck you

god the amount of times you’ve had to choose a different outfit or redo your hair bc he couldn’t keep his hands off you before an event

danhausen

call me a clown fucker if u want but 2018 danhausen lives rent free in my head

(i have an idea for a fic i wanna write but ANYWAYS)

so very loving 🥺

also very talkative likes to hear that he’s doing well wants to tell you that you’re doing well

praise kink vibes whew

also lowkey a massive pervert in the best way like he just is so attracted to you

not above some back of the arena sex, or car sex, or bathroom sex

he would love like surprise blowjobs like u just drop to ur knees as he’s getting ready for a match or you wake him up with one

god he’s so loud though that’s the crazy thing about him liking the exhibitionist stuff he’ll just rat y’all out 💀

there’s been many a time you’re riding him in the backseat of a car and you have to put your hand over his mouth bc he will not shut up

but it makes your heart bloom to know he’s enjoying himself so much

[thedevilsdom]

kinktober 2021 day 6

Overstim, bondage with Kazuha

--

Something you never expected from your sweet, sweet Kazuha was for him to specifically ask you to push him until he safewords out. It took some convincing, but you eventually agreed and got to work binding him.

A gag between his lips, thighs bound to his calves and kneeling, forearms bound together behind his back and a bell in his hand to drop and serve as a safeword, he’s all ready for you.

He truly is beautiful.

“My Kazuha,” You hum, cupping his cheek. The bright red of his cheeks and eyes stands out against the paleness of his hair and skin. He’s completely naked, and you remain clothed. You’ve got all sorts of toys in your possession, but you think you’ll just be using one.

A vibrating wand, with a stroker on the end of it. You’ve already lubed it up, and Kazuha’s little dick is twitching and eager for it.

“I haven’t even touched you down there yet and you’re all needy.” You turn on the vibrator and bring it down, stroker easily sliding over his dick. The textured silicone strokes him and vibrates, and you see his back straighten just a little bit more. He’s doing his best to keep himself still, knowing that he has a lot in store for him.

His first orgasm comes quickly. You crank the vibrations’ intensity and he’s spilling milky white into the clear silicone stroker, and you’re not stopping. You continue to stroke him, even as he starts to twitch with the oversensitivity. Before long, it starts to border on pain. He’s folding over himself, all tense and whining into the gag as you just keep gliding the sleeve around his dick.

“Poor thing,” You fake sympathy. It’s obvious you’re faking, since you don’t stop your efforts. “Give me another one.”

At the command, Kazuha finds himself falling into another climax, hips moving uncontrollably as he cums into the sleeve again, much less this time. He cries out into the gag and the stimulation truly does turn over into pain. He’s moaning and sobbing, his whole body tense and his eyes squeezed shut. He bites down on the gag, trying to contain himself, but you just keep moving.

A third orgasm is wrung out of him at your command, and tears roll down the bright red of his cheeks. His eyes crack open to look up at you, trying to wordlessly beg and get you to stop. He sounds so sorrowful, like he’s hurting so much, but his hand remains tightly clenched around the large bell.

You give him a few seconds of rest, pulling the stroker off of him. He immediately slackens, slumped over himself and panting. You remove the silicone sleeve from the toy and use the tip of it to nudge at his shoulder until he sits up enough for you to take his dick in one hand, and press the vibrator against it with the other. You turn up the vibrations to their maximum and keep it against the head of his cock and he howls.

It hurts. You haven’t given him a break since you started, and it’s searing pain. He can hardly control his body anymore, unable to stop himself from trying to curl in on himself.

“Come on, Kazuha.” You rub the head of the toy against him, his length all slick with his cum. “I want another one.”

Body giving up to your will, he somehow cums again, dick throbbing and hardly offering up any cum. When his orgasm leaves him, he finally, finally relents and drops the bell, and you pull back immediately, shutting off the vibrator and setting it aside.

The first thing that comes off of him is the gag. He opens and closes his mouth a few times to right his jaw, and then looks up at you. His face is all splotchy red, and streaked with tears, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. He looks wrecked.

Kazuha is fun to take apart, and looks beautiful in the process, but with those round eyes looking up at you as he’s practically in pieces on the floor, you know that it’s your responsibility to help put him back together. And you delight in doing so.

--

like my work and want to request something? consider supporting me on ko-fi!

[emmyhem]

everything you’re missing (c.t.h)

a/n: hi everybody, i’m back with another post. this is my first calum piece and i’m so excited to finally get it up. this is once again unedited, i’m way too tired rn. it’s also the second smut i’ve posted so that’s pretty exciting as well. yeah i don’t really have much to say right now because i’m literally exhausted, my classes are really kicking my ass. anyway i hope you all enjoy this bff!calum piece. feedback and comments are always appreciated. hope you all are doing well and are being safe. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: bff!calum hood x fem!reader

summary: a drunken text meant for your ex shows up on calum’s phone and leaves him questioning everything he’s missing out on with his best friend.

warning(s): talk of a previous bad relationship, y/n’s ex body shamed her, mentions of alcohol, insecurity, smut, cursing

word count: 4.7k

You’ve decided that 3 glasses of wine is your happy medium, but even a sip into the 4th and there’s no telling what you’ll do. 

So, naturally you were finishing up your 5th glass on Friday night while angrily scrolling through your exes instagram when you got what seemed to be an incredible idea. It was simply too tempting not to, your mind was feeling hazy which made your confidence skyrocket, and you truly did just look good. 

A day of pampering had left you in a black floor length silk robe with nothing but your favorite deep cherry red lingerie set underneath. Your face was bare and glowing after a refreshing and illuminating face mask, and your lips were left glossy and plump from a new scrub. 

You had posed in front of the floor length mirror in your living room, giggling between snaps until you had taken the perfect shot. It was classy but provocative, the dressing gown slipping from your shoulders exposing the lace of your bra and a tasteful amount of cleavage. You had also left the bottom open, allowing a clear shot of your thighs and the curve of your ass from where you sat on your knees. 

With a mischievous glint in your eyes you selected the picture into a message, typing a cheeky, “take a good look at everything you’re missing”  and sending it off to your ex (or so you thought). 

But you really couldn’t be blamed for your mistake, Cam and Cal were far too similar for your drunk brain to decipher the difference. You also couldn’t be blamed for the fact that you dozed off on the couch immediately after sending it, before you even had a chance to recognize your humiliating mistake. 

You were awoken by the ringing of your phone at around 9:00 am, way too early for your liking. Before even registering who it was, you brought the phone to your ear and groaned a sleepy, “hello,” 

“At your door.” a voice you recognized as your best friend responded. 

“M’coming” you said, scooting off the couch. On your way to the door you registered that you were still scantily covered, the robe falling off of you as you walked. You clutched it around you as you swung the door open to a wide eyed, Calum Hood. 

“G’morning.” he smirked, looking you up and down. 

“Shh” you hushed, pulling him in by the arm. “Why in the world are you here so early?”

He lightly laughed while taking a seat at the kitchen table, eyes following you while you moped over to the fridge and pulled out two water bottles. 

“Well,” he sighed as you handed him one. “I got a very interesting text last night and I figured I just had to come over and see, y’know everything I was missing.” he spoke in a teasing tone as he gestured a hand down your body.

You tugged your eyebrows together in confusion. There was something familiar about what he was saying, but not familiar enough for you to put the pieces together. 

“What are you talking about?” you questioned bringing the water bottle to your lips. 

Calum shrugged his shoulders, a smirk still glued to his face as he took out his phone and began looking for something. After a few seconds he extended his arm to hand you his phone. You accepted it and glanced down absentmindedly as your body slumped against the counter.  

The second your eyes hit the screen it all came back to you, your mouth fell open and you straightened out, suddenly very awake, not to mention very mortified. 

Calum on the other hand was buzzing. Actually, he had been ever since his phone dinged last night awakening him from his sleep. Well, buzzing and extremely, extremely sexually frustrated. 

When he first opened your message and saw the picture that would now be making a regular appearance in his wet dreams, he had nearly choked on his own breath. He knew that it was most likely a drunken mistake, and while that slightly saddened him it didn’t stop his dick from plumping up at the sight, straining uncomfortably against his boxers. He seriously debated wanking to the tempting image but decided against it, thinking it would be a gross violation of your privacy since it wasn’t even meant for him. Oh how he wished it was. Unfortunately that meant he had been sporting an exceptionally sensitive halfie since then. 

“Oh my god.” you groaned, sitting the phone down on the counter and covering your eyes in humiliation. “Cal I’m soooo sorry, I was drunk, and overly confident, and I meant to send this to Cam and now I’m just, I’m sorry.” you reiterated. 

‘Hey, don’t apologize on my account.” he countered. “Plus, you should be thrilled you sent it to me and not that asshole, doesn’t deserve ya.” 

“I know, you’re right. Doesn’t change the fact that I’m mortified though. S’bit ridiculous, get a little alcohol in my system and I have a god complex all of a sudden” you rambled, running your hands through your hair nervously. 

Calum stood and pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“You think too much, y’know that?” he quipped. 

You turned your head, pressing a cheek against his sweater clad chest and mumbled, “Yea I’ve been known for that.” 

Calum softly chuckled at your words before pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head and pulling apart. 

“S’really no big deal, y/n.” a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Besides I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Calum!” you scolded, swatting a hand at his arm. 

He dodged your hit just in time and held his hands up in surrender before taking his seat again. 

“Why'd you let that dick bother you anyway? Y’know you’re way out of his league.” 

Your jaw clenched at the question, your mind wandering to every time you had come to Calum crying after your ex had done something to hurt you. Everytime he commented on your “stomach pudge” as he liked to call it, when you wore a tight dress to go out. Or when he would ask if you were really “that” hungry, even if you hadn’t eaten much at all. And each time you would feel absolutely wretched and end up sobbing in Calum’s arms, but refusing to tell him why you were so, so sad. 

“He texted me the other day y’know?” you muttered under your breath, while fiddling with the coffee machine. 

“Really? What’d he say?” Calum responded, watching your back with narrowed eyes. 

“Uh, he saw me the other night, when we were at that bar with the guys.” you said, shaky fingers pulling out a mug. 

“And?” he spoke flatly. 

“It’s stupid really,” you sniffled, willing your voice not to break. “He said I put on a few pounds, that he was glad he got out when he did.” your bottom lip traitorously jutted out as you turned to face him. 

“Fucking dick.” he hissed. 

Calum wasn’t necessarily proud of the violent images that flashed through his mind at the thought of that asshole finding yet another way to hurt you but, the sad little quiver of your lip allowed him to reason without a doubt that they were fair. 

Before you could even blink he was holding you again, arms impossibly tight around you. . 

“He’s wrong, y/n. Fuck, I don’t know how to even...he’s just so wrong.” he said softly, his hand rubbing your back reassuringly. 

“I know.” you whimpered, holding tears back. 

He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes, arms still firm around your waist. 

“No you don’t. It’s...It really fucking pisses me off that he makes you feel like this. It’s like-fuck you’re just like-” he moved his hands to cup your cheeks. “You really are gorgeous.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words, and your whole body felt warm as you stared at his big brown eyes. His words felt sincere, everything about him felt so sincere. 

“Thank you, Cal.” 

He pulled you back into his chest, “Really wish I could just, like hug away all his bullshit.” 

“M’used to it.” you mumbled. 

“You don’t deserve any of it.” 

“Yea, well what can you do.” you sighed, moving out of his embrace. 

Calum’s eyes were still glued to you as you stirred a spoonful of sugar in your coffee. 

“I hope you don’t let anything he says get to you.” 

You let out a breath of exhaustion. 

Confidence wasn’t something that you used to struggle with. I mean sure, there were spouts of insecurity here and there but you knew your worth, and you considered yourself pretty, hot even. That had all changed a few months into your latest relationship. First it was the backhanded compliments which quickly turned into passive comments, and then outright cruel insults. People really underestimate the toll their words take on others, especially when the person that’s making you feel so ugly and worthless, is one that you adore and who’s supposed to adore you right back, no matter what. 

“I try but, he can’t just be making it all up.” you were ashamed. When did you become the girl that lets a guy affect how she sees herself? That just wasn’t you. 

“He is. He’s insecure and a douche. He was probably trying to destroy your confidence to the point that you felt like you couldn’t leave him.” Calum assured. “But you’re way too strong for him, dumped his sorry ass anyway.” 

You smiled gratefully at his words, taking a seat next to him. 

“Yea, so strong I tried to send him half naked pictures for reassurance.” 

Calum shook his head, “I wish you could see how hot you are.” 

Your eyes widened at the compliment, your head dropping to avoid his stare as blood rushed to your cheeks. 

“I’d be happy to reassure you whenever you want.” he continued, bumping his knee against yours under the table. 

“Doesn’t count.” you dismissed, before sipping your coffee. “You're my best friend, you’re obligated to tell me I’m pretty.” 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” he muttered back quietly, his expression dropping slightly. He hated when you deflected his compliments. All he ever wanted to do was make you feel good, and you made it very difficult for him when you blocked every swing he took at the wall of insecurity that Cam had built around you. He would kill Cam if he could. 

You let out an apologetic sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder. 

“M’sorry, you’re right. I love you for that, the only thing keeping me sane.” 

Your heart squeezed as he hugged you back. 

Calum was perfect, he was sweet, and funny, and quite literally your favorite person on earth. Not to mention you had been hopelessly in love with him since practically the beginning of your friendship. But as his best friend you had heard over and over just how uninterested he was in a relationship. Everytime you would ask about his love life he would just respond, 

“I’m just not the boyfriend type, m’not cut out for it.” shrugging nonchalantly. 

Which you thought was laughable because anyone would be lucky to have him as a boyfriend, in fact sometimes you would let yourself pretend he was yours. 

Like,in a busy club with his hands on your hips, guiding you through the crowds. So close behind, you could feel each exhale on the back of your neck, as his eyes darted around the room to ensure there weren’t any potential threats to your safety, in the form of drunk overzealous flirts. Or after a night out when he got cuddly and clingy, and would find his way from the couch into your bed. You’d wake up with his cheek pressed against your chest and his arms snaked around your torso as he released soft breaths that caused goosebumps to rise on your exposed skin. You’d let yourself imagine that you had this every morning and that he would wake up any minute to smother your face in kisses and tell you he loved you. And of course, here he was again this morning being so thoughtful and kind and everything you wanted in a boyfriend. And here you were again swimming in his praises and physically having to restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Begrudgingly, you pulled away and stood up. 

“Gonna get changed.” you spoke. 

“I’m making us breakfast.” Calum called as you walked away. You hummed in response and slipped into your room. 

Once in the privacy of your own room you quickly pulled on a pair of leggings and a hoodie before scurrying to the bathroom sink and splashing cold water on your face in hopes of ridding yourself of any romantic thoughts towards your best friend.

Although you weren’t aware, Calum was doing the very same thing just a few feet away. Internally reminding himself repeatedly that it was never gonna happen with you. He wasn’t good enough to be anyone’s boyfriend, let alone yours. You didn’t want him that way and he could almost trick himself into believing that he was okay with that.

You hastily finished brushing your teeth before returning to the kitchen. You were greeted with the sight of Calum’s back, he stood over the toaster cutting an avocado and humming a song you didn’t recognize quietly to himself.  He looked over his shoulder as your footsteps approached. 

“Hungry?” he questioned. 

“You have no idea.” you affirmed, as he fixed a plate for you both. 

“Good. I was thinking we could watch something while we eat,” 

“Fine with me.” you responded, hoping he wouldn’t notice the distraction laced in your voice. Your focus had easily been stolen from the conversation to how easy it was to see his back muscles flex through the thin material of his jumper. 

But of course he did, it was Calum after all. 

“Y’alright?” he said, handing you a plate. 

“Uh, yep.” you rushed out. 

“Not still thinking about Cam, are you?” 

“No, not at all.” you answered honestly, walking to the couch, Calum trailing closely behind you. 

“Then what’s got you all flustered?” 

“You” you thought, taking a seat in the furthest corner. 

“I’m not flustered.” 

“Bullshit” he countered, sitting practically on top of you. 

You let out a huff, and motioned to the other  completely empty side of the couch. 

“Is there a reason we aren’t practicing personal space right now?” 

He laughed softly at your question and nuzzled closer into your side. 

“Yea, you’re all pouty, looks like you need a cuddle.” 

 “I’m really fine Cal.” you shoved him lightly but saw no results, he just scooched in even closer and bit into his toast. 

The two of you sat in silence while some newly released action movie played on your TV. Calum’s arm was wrapped around your shoulders keeping you tight to his side, and although you could’ve sworn that you had been in this exact same position hundreds of times, you felt as if this were the very first time. Every single one of your nerves were on fire and the warmth that had flooded your body was making you antsy. 

Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, you allowed your eyes to flutter close with a deep inhale. 

“You okay?” Calum whispered, dipping his head down slightly to reach your ear.

You opened your mouth to respond but didn’t trust your voice to protrude through your shaky exhales, settling for a subdued nod instead. 

“You sure?” his words were long and drawled out, despite your eyes being closed you knew his proximity from the feeling of his breath just behind your ear. 

Before you could speak up his hand secured itself just above your knee, and your muscles flexed involuntarily at the contact. 

“Relax, y/n” he continued, his thumb beginning to run repeatedly over a spot on your inner knee. 

Everything in your brain was screaming at you to excuse yourself, maybe even kick him out, anything to gain some space and hopefully some clarity from the cloud of sexual tension that was looming over the two of you and blurring boundaries at lightning speed. But you were essentially frozen in place, petrified that any movement would alert Calum to the way he was affecting you. 

Your head lolled back to rest on his forearm which was lying behind you on the couch and finally peeled your eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. 

He watched you from the corner of his eye, taking note of every rise and fall of your chest, every thick swallow of your throat. 

If there was one thing Calum was well versed in, it was his ability to read you, he liked to think he knew you better than anyone else in the world. He could tell exactly how you were feeling just by watching you, your face, your breathing and he was more than shocked when he started getting the feeling you were no longer upset but something far more appealing. 

Were you turned on? Right here in his presence? The thought made blood rush to his dick, which twitched in his pants when another breathy sigh passed your lips. 

“What’re you thinking about, love?” 

Everything in you urged you to answer honestly, just tell him the truth. “You, I’m thinking about you. I’m always thinking about you.” But you couldn’t do that, so instead you deflected. 

“What’re you thinking about?” you countered, meeting his eyes. 

Calum questioned his next words very carefully, debating whether or not he could recover if he was wrong about what you were feeling and you shut him down. It was pointless though, he knew he would never recover from your rejection. He also knew that spontaneous combustion wouldn’t look very good on his tombstone and that’s exactly what would happen if he spent one more minute not kissing you. 

Fuck it. 

“That pretty little set you had on last night.” he confessed. 

That you weren’t expecting. 

A quiet whine rang from your throat and you were far too affected to feel embarrassed. 

And that did it, Calum was now impossibly hard in his pants, no doubt leaking precum onto his boxer briefs. He needed to get his hands on you, now. 

His hand started to slowly travel up your thigh, goosebumps rising on every centimeter they passed. 

“So gorgeous in red, aren’t ya y/n?”

“Cal,” you hissed when his thumb brushed the sensitivity of your inner thigh. 

“Mm.” he hummed. “It’d be pretty hard fo’me to stop right now, but I will if that’s what you want. Is that what you want, love?” 

He was sure he’d cry if he had to let go of you now, but he needed to hear you say it. 

“No, don’t wanna stop.” you whined, turning your body flush to his.

“Whaddya want then, baby? Hm?” You could feel his every word on the flushed skin of your neck as he leaned into the crook.

“Want you.” 

He could’ve came then and there. 

“Then I’m all yours.” he admitted before crashing his lips on yours. 

Your heart was in your stomach as his tongue entered your mouth, explorative and eager. He was too busy memorizing your taste to notice your fingers tugging at his sweater. You attempted to push it up desperate to feel his skin under your hands. You were able to pull the fabric up about halfway before they were blocked by his arms that were holding you close against him.

Calum laughed when you pulled apart from the kiss, giving him a disappointed look. 

“Want it off?” he teased. 

You couldn’t bother to be embarrassed when you nodded eagerly in response. He didn’t waste any time peeling the fabric off of his skin, and you were quick to lightly run a finger across the ink feather just below his collarbone. 

Now it was his turn to tug on your clothes, “Level the playing field?” 

You nodded, lifting your arms and allowing him to lift the sweatshirt over your head leaving your chest completely bare. Calum groaned at the sight of your tits, his hands quickly finding your waist and tugging you down to lay on your back in one swift motion. 

Once you were laid out in front of him he took the opportunity to explore the new skin. His hands left a lingering warmth as they dragged across your stomach and despite the kind words and endearing demeanor that he always upheld with you, you found yourself shying under his gaze, wanting to curl away from him. As your hands began to wrap around your stomach in an attempt to cover yourself up he quickly pushed them away, locking them in place on either side of you. 

“Wanna see everything baby, all of you.” he cooed in your ear before nipping at the lobe. 

His kisses began to travel down your neck, sucking a few marks to your collar bones and the surrounding areas. When his fingers grazed over a fresh bruise in the dip just between your neck and shoulders you hissed lightly. 

“You look so pretty marked up for me. All mine, aren’t you baby? Not Cam’s, mine. Say it.” 

“Yours, Cal.” you admitted, feeling your body sink further into the couch. You had never felt drunk off of someone’s words before and the experience was leaving you sputtering, completely compliant to your best friend. 

He hummed contently at your confession, his large hands gripping at your hips, before slowly peeling your leggings off.

“Y’feel so good in my hands, like you were made for me.” his thumbs poking at the soft skin, just beneath your panties. 

The feeling of his hands so close to where you needed them, but not quite there was driving you crazy. 

“Cal, please.” you begged. 

He groaned before tugging at the cotton covering you. “Cam’s a fucking idiot, y’know that? He had the prettiest girl in the world and treated her like shit. I’d never do that, wanna worship you baby.” 

It was ridiculous how overwhelmed his words were leaving you, all desperate and squirming. As his fingers met the soaked expanse of your cunt you couldn’t hold back the throaty moan it elicited. 

A pornographic sigh followed close behind, one that made Calum want to pinch himself to ensure he wasn’t in the midst of a haunting dream. 

“Soaked f’me darling.” he mused, running his fingers up and down your folds to completely coat you in your arousal. You whimpered at the feeling, bucking your hips up desperate for friction. 

Tutting while shaking his head, he used one hand on your lower stomach to press you back down to the couch. 

“Stay still for me won’t you, love?” he cooed, continuing to run his fingers over your core lightly. 

When you bobbed your head up and down in agreement he lifted your leg to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your calf. 

“Hm, good girl.” he praised, softly laying your leg back down. 

Calum hovered above you, dipping his head down every so often to peck at your chest, his fingers still unrelenting. The knot in your lower stomach tightened every second that passed and you felt like you could scream at any second, yearning to be full. 

Calum felt like he could burst any minute himself but was determined to make this experience the best of your life. He wanted to give you something to remember, a reason to want more. 

Your soft moans and frustrated grunts alerted him to your neediness and he was just about ready to give in for the both of you. 

“What do you need from me, baby?” he said against your shoulder before peppering kisses across your collar bones. 

You could only respond with an airy moan when his fingers found your clit. 

“Hm? My fingers?” You shook your head aggressively. He knew exactly what you wanted, the tease. 

“No? Want my mouth?” he teased further, leaving an opened mouth kiss in between your tits. 

“Cal,” you sighed. “Fuck me, please.”

He groaned at your words, nipping lightly at the skin before ridding himself of his pants. 

“You’re a fucking dream, y’know that?” he praised, desperately searching for a condom in his pants. When he finally located one he held it up to you as if it were a prized possession, smiling proudly at his own preparedness. 

He hastily freed himself from the constraints of his boxers and rolled the condom on, never once taking his eyes off of the blissful expression on your face. 

“Ready?” he questioned, his tip lightly pressing at your entrance. You nodded and sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch, your eyes falling closed in the process. 

When a few seconds went by and nothing happened you opened your eyes to find Calum staring down at you in awe. 

“Cal,” you whined. “what’re you doing?” 

Your words seemed to break him from his trance, he shook his head and muttered an apology to you. 

“Sorry, fuck you’re pretty. You’ve got no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 

“Then stop waiti-” your words were cut off by a sharp hiss that couldn’t have been prevented as his length finally pressed into you. 

“Fuck.” Calum groaned his head falling back. You felt too good around him, seriously he was fucked, completely ruined for you. 

You felt the exact same as your silky moans filled the room. You had never been filled this good and you questioned how you had gone so long without this. 

“M-move” you sighed, clenching around him. 

You could hear his breath catch at the feeling and he grunted out a strained, “Need a minute.” 

He held himself in place for a few more seconds until his breaths began to even out once again before pulling nearly all the way out and slamming back in. 

You yelped, pulling your lip between your teeth in hopes to drown the sound. 

He continued slamming into you at an unrelenting pace, taking notice of each time your eyes would roll back when he brushed against your g-spot. He could write a book about how good you looked all fucked for him. 

As his thrusts grew closer together you could feel your release creeping up on you.  

“Cal, need’ta cum.” you stuttered out. 

His hands tightened around your hips, pulling you even closer to him as his head poked at that spot again. 

“Go on baby, let go.” he encouraged, willing himself to hold out a little longer as your walls fluttered around him. 

Once you had came it only took him about three more thrusts before he was painting the condom with his release, groaning your name as his hand searched for yours to intertwine them as he came down from his own high. 

  His body flopped next to yours on the couch, both of you struggling to fit next to each other in such a small space, not that either of you minded the close quarters. 

Your fingers remained laced together as you caught your breath, Calum peppering kisses to your shoulder and mumbling praises into your skin. 

“You’re an angel. God, I just- I love you.” he said, causing your head to snap in his direction. 

He looked like a deer in headlights when you asked for him to repeat himself. 

“I love you?” he obliged.

“Is it a question?” 

“No, I’m just not used to saying it.” he admitted, vulnerability clear in his eyes. 

You wanted to kiss away the worried crease in his forehead but instead pressed your lips to his, pulling apart a fraction of an inch to speak after a few seconds.

“I love you too.” you ensured. 

Calum eyes widened, not expecting you to say it back, at least not so soon. He had so much he wanted to say to you but figured all of it could be summed up by another kiss to your soft lips. So he closed the distance once again, using a bit more force this time in hopes it would convey the strength of his feelings for you.

[inkykeiji]

i have the warmth of the sun within me tonight

characters: takami keigo | hawks

genre: smut n fluff

notes: this piece was written with someone specific in mind, but i wanted to share it here, too!! this is, by far, the healthiest and most wholesome piece i’ve ever posted on my blog ehehe | title cred: the warmth of the sun by the beach boys

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, reader is extremely scared of thunderstorms, v romantic, shower sex, minimal prep, slight size difference/size kink

words: 4.6k

synopsis:

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

It’s dark. It’s so dark it almost looks like night despite the fact that it’s only late afternoon, heavy bloated clouds—charcoal and fluffy and overstuffed with raindrops—obscuring the safety of comforting golden rays from the entire city.

The torrential downpour feels endless, and for a brief second you’re terrified it truly may never stop, streets below having flooded with the rain, cars slowly wading through them, tires spraying out streams of water as they do.

Magnificent strikes of lightning crack through the dreary sky like thick roots snaking through the foggy canopy of smoke and steel, momentarily tainting them in shades of periwinkle and lavender and casting flashes of brilliant silver light across the skyscrapers and condominiums.

Their sudden presence makes you jolt, a rapid shudder working its way through your entire body, skin pebbling with chills in its wake.

But it isn’t the lightning that bothers you—not really, anyway.

It’s what comes after.

Rumbles of thunder so loud, so violent they cause the glass windows of Keigo’s apartment to quiver and the hardwood beneath your feet to tremble, roll through the sky, and you swear you can see the clouds ripple from the force.

Arms squeezing tighter around your body, your fingers curl in the material of your—his—hoodie, desperately attempting to resist the urge to grab your phone, to frantically scroll through social media as worried eyes scan for any mention of his name, for shreds of dreadful news, for things you never want to hear.

You hate it when he has to work in storms such as these. And you know, you know you shouldn’t be watching the sky, shouldn’t be searching the splotches of gunmetal adorning the atmosphere for a glimmer of scarlet and gold, shouldn’t be standing so close to the pristine glass windows that your uneven puffs of nervous breath cloud them, tiny blankets of condensation left by the hot air you exhale fleetingly staining the surface, evaporating into nothing just as quickly as they appear.

But you can’t help it. It’s a compulsion, almost—like some sort of sick obsession, some sort of twisted addiction you can’t control. Because—Because you have to know, unable to stand that feeling of uncertainty that gnaws away at your insides, incapable of handling the ambiguity and vagueness that comes packaged with the not knowing. You have to at least try—try to do everything in your power to stay informed, and if that means facing a vicious thunderstorm head on, with your cheek pressed against the cold glass as your gaze searches the tumultuous sky, then so be it.

You can brave it for him. You swear you can.

“Baby,” he scolds gently, his sudden presence surprising you, causing you to throw a quick glance over your shoulder. Topaz eyes observe you, overflowing with concern, pretty bowed lips turning down, soaked strands of gold hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and neck. “How many times have I told you not to do this?” And although he’s reprimanding you, his voice is sweet, smooth and syrupy like the finest honey. “You know how much thunder freaks you out,”

You scoff, stiffening almost defensively as you turn your nose up a little, still avoiding his eyes. “It doesn’t freak me out,”

“Oh?” he laughs a little as he kicks off his boots, tension easing from his shoulders with every step towards you, every step further into the warm sanctuary of your shared home, wet sock-clad feet slapping against the hardwood and leaving gleaming footprints.

“Kei,” you whine a little, gesturing his dripping body. “You’re getting water everywhere,”

“Hey now,” a playful smirk spreads across his lips, and a sudden, sharp whoosh slices through the air as his wings spread, spanning nearly half the living room. He gives them one good, thorough shake, crimson feathers trembling and sending tiny droplets of water flying. “I wasn’t done,” he speaks over your squeal of his name, smirk growing into that trademark mischievous grin. “You shouldn’t just stand at the window and stare up at the sky—it only scares you more,”

“I’m not scared,”

Vicious growls of thunder roil through the sky before you’re even finished speaking, almost as if it’s laughing at you, mocking you, your body flinching as the sounds crash over you, curling in on yourself a little, face puckered up in a wince as your words stutter, catching on a gasp in your throat.

Exhaling a soft sigh, Keigo holds his arms open wide, wings still stretched to span them. “Yeah, right. C’mere,” When you don’t begin moving immediately, he sighs again, strong hands gently pulling you towards him.

Your body melts into his touch—an automatic and involuntary reaction, almost instinctual at this point—and you slump against his damp chest, nuzzling your cheek against the firm muscles.

“I’ve got you,” he says softly, arms wrapping around your body as he holds you tightly to his, voice reverberating against your ear. “The Big Bad Scary Thunder can’t get you here,”

Eyes rolling, you scoff at his playful teasing, a tiny smile materializing on your face as you pull away a little to look up at him, greeted with the sight of brilliant eyes—made of sunshine and liquid gold, you’re absolutely sure of it—gazing down at you, lips quirked in a cute little smirk.

His beauty never fails to knock the breath from your chest—it seems you can never be prepared for it; no matter how many times you’ve seen him, how many times you’ve been close enough to count the individual eyelashes lining those orbs, how many times you’ve been close enough to feel the inviting tickle of the short golden hairs decorating his chin—and you’re not sure you’ll never get used to it, either.

A peculiar mix of adoration and concern swirl in his honey irises, though you can see the mirth and amusement dancing just beyond that, thinly veiled by the love and worry.

“Oh, shut up—” another bang of thunder fissures through the sky, so raucous it makes the thick clouds waver and swell, your words morphing into a fearful little squeak, quickly burying your head back against the safety of his chest.

Fingers curl in the wet suede and you hug yourself closer to him, tugging him closer to you, body beginning to shudder.

He’s hushing you now, arms and wings curled around you in a defensive embrace as words of comfort pry past his lips, tender voice sheathing the armor of crimson surrounding you.

“At least they aren’t as bad as the ones back home, yeah?”

“I guess so,” you mumble, unconvinced, eyebrows knitted and mouth sculpted into a deep pout. “I still don’t like them, though,”

“I know, I know,” a warm hand rubs soothing circles into your back, voice only marginally louder than the next bout of thunder as it vibrates against your face, another quiet yelp clawing its way up your throat. “Shh, you’re safe, you’re safe,”

“Kei,”

The nickname escapes in a mangled little whimper, and you can feel it—fright, terror, dread—building in your chest, a strangling type of panic that weaves and winds itself around your windpipe and crushes; because they’re getting worse, they’re getting closer, growls and grumbles following the flashes of lightning almost immediately, roaring loud enough to quake buildings, your heart thudding so violently it’s almost painful. Tears sting your eyes, and you shake your head against him, as if trying to burrow into his chest, to carve out a little space in his ribcage, right next to his steadily beating heart, and live there.

“I-I take it back, they are as bad as the ones back home,”

Or, at least, this one is

Keigo doesn’t argue, all traces of amusement evaporated from his face, replaced by trepidation that mixes with his worry and pinches his features, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned as he cradles you against him. Ferocious tremors course through your form, chest beginning to hitch with swallowed sobs, and he squeezes you.

“Make it stop, Kei, please, m-make it stop, make it go away,” the words are nearly inaudible, wept into his chest and muffled by his jacket, snarled, snared, snagged on the choked sobs and gagged sniffles that scrabble and tear at your throat with their razored talons.

And even drenched, clothes sopping with rainwater, he’s still so warm, like he has liquid sun flowing through his veins, scalding waves of heat radiating off of his body and seeping into yours, cozy and consoling as it douses you, as it sinks into your skin, your bones, your soul itself and marinates there, twisting and twirling into a small ball of sunshine, of him, that sends pulsing zaps of warmth circulating through your flesh.

“Okay, alright,” he’s saying as he rocks you gently, crimson wings wrapped entirely around you both, shielding you from the storm. The scent of freshly mown grass and sticky vanilla ice cream is nearly overwhelming as it washes over your senses, invading your lungs and smothering you in its embrace. It’s a welcomed feeling, the beautiful suffocation it affords you with, vibrant bursts of heat rushing through your veins, whole body flooded and thrumming with a deep-seated comfort—a special type of solace, of reassurance, of contentment unique to him, unfathomable and mystifying on all accounts, that soothes your frayed nerves and calms your irregular heart—because he smells like home; not your home halfway across the world, your real home, your forever home.

“Come,” he instructs a moment later, stern yet tender, keeping an arm draped firmly around your shoulders, one of his wings curving around the limb as he leads you away from the window, scarlet feathers obstructing your vision.

—

The bathroom—comprised of gleaming marble and shining chrome—is enormous, housing a mammoth glass shower that spans the length of the furthest wall, large enough to more-than-comfortably accommodate his wings, and then some.

Steam fogs the glass, and a soft hiss slips from between your teeth as he cages you between his chiseled body and the freezing marble, cold rock stinging your already heated skin, his wings spreading to mimic his arms, providing another layer of protection and entirely immersing you in him.

It’s your favourite when he does this, when he engulfs you in his grasp and creates a tiny universe where it’s just the two of you, whole world having fallen away outside of the barricade his thick wings offer—and you’ve never felt safer.

And it’s amazing, you’re thinking to yourself—or maybe you’re murmuring it, lips moving in a daze—it’s amazing how even after all of the rainwater pouring from the sky, all of the zipping through those dense clouds, all of the vicious wind that whips against him as he soars; none of it could ever manage to wash away, to ever dull, his intoxicating scent, not even for a second.

You’re completely overcome by him, vanquished by his enamoring eyes and his saccharine smile—drunk and high off of it all, addicted to him in the sweetest way—and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

But you’re leaning into him, closer and closer and closer, lips parted as you inhale deeply, filling your lungs, your chest, your heart and veins and blood with his aura, his essence, him. He conquers you, intoxicates you, poisons you in such a beautiful way, and you’re enchanted by it, yearning for more, a greedy and insatiable craving that will never be fulfilled.

And he knows it. He knows the effect he has on you by merely existing near you—his cocky smirk and dazzling gaze tell you so.

But then his eyes soften, glazing over with something else, lidded as they slowly travel across your body bared to him, and his mouth falls open only for his tongue to suck his bottom lip between his teeth, and his fingers reach to trace your features, the curve of your cheek and line of your jaw, the most gentle caress.

“You…Are breathtaking,”

And he really does sound out of breath, as if he’s in awe from your beauty, as if this is his first time seeing you, as if you’re some sort of goddess, having descended right in front of him, and it forces chills to erupt across your bare skin—damp and splattered with tiny droplets of water that gleam like morning dew clinging to grass—despite how boiling it is between him and the steam from the shower.

It’s a feeling you can’t quite explain, a feeling you’ve never really been able to find the appropriate words for, something that makes you feel simultaneously powerful and weak, a swirling concoction of contradictions that invade your bloodstream and travel straight to your brain, infusing the tissues with the potent mix and sending tiny sparks buzzing through your veins, collecting to flutter together in the pit of your stomach.

He kisses you slowly, tonight. He kisses you like it’s his last day to live, kisses you like it’s his first time, unhurried tongue deliberately exploring the concavities of your mouth—every nook and ridge and crevice—as if committing them to memory, as if attempting to leave his stamp, his mark, his claim, on the real estate there.

He kisses you until neither of you can breathe, lungs shriveling as your chests heave, exhaling into each other’s mouths only to suck breath from each other’s mouths a moment later. He kisses you until you’re dizzy from the lack of air and he’s burning and hard and pressed up against your thigh, leaking head rubbing against the supple skin, leaving the prettiest gleaming trails of cream. He kisses you until you’ve gone stupid from his spit alone, fervent in the way you swallow it greedily, in the way you attempt to suck, slurp, steal more from him as it surges to your brain, tissues and nerves vaporizing into nothing more than a dazed mist, spiked with him.

The kiss breaks with a sharp whoosh of air, his lids lifting to reveal glassy pupils outlined with the thinnest ring of amber. Your tongue darts out from your mouth to lick and lap at the stringy, viscous remnants coating your chin; starved, ravenous, and forever unsated.

The chuckle huffed out from between swollen, saliva-soaked lips is nothing short of sinful, makes your vision blur and your stomach swoop, a murmured tease following it.

“Eager, aren’t you,”

And you want to point out that you weren’t the one practically humping someone’s hip, but the words tangle in your throat, catching on a gasp as nimble fingers slip between the apex of your thighs, an involuntary groan spilling from his throat.

“Fuck,” his head falls forward, face buried in your neck, and sucks an inhale through his teeth. “How are you already this wet?”

He’s nearly whining as he dips two fingers into you, soft little sounds that fall from his lips and sop into your skin, his breath scorching—sizzling more than the steam in the shower—against your neck.

And those fingers, now plunging into you, knuckles curling the moment they’re deep enough to press moans from your chest and cries from your throat, feel so familiar as they stretch you open—the same fingers that pet your hair and brush away your tears and feed you pieces of fried chicken; they feel like home.

Yet as comforting as that is, as much as it has your chest swelling with something so large, so dense you’re terrified your ribs may shatter and splinter under the strain, they aren’t enough. Not right now, not today.

Because even with the water hitting the tiles and the exquisite symphony of his pants and your mewls, you can still hear it, menacing blasts encroaching on you, deep and heavy and threatening to split the little world Keigo has created, the small haven his wings and arms provide.

“Please, please, Kei,” you’re nearly wailing out, forcing bleary eyes to open, belated in the way they find his gaze. “I-I want you, I need you,”

“Sweetheart,” he starts—and you know that tone, stitched together with hesitation and concern and embellished with thin ribbons of patronization. “You know you can’t take me without being opened up at least a lil’ first,”

Another clap of thunder rattles the apartment, sounding as if it’s just outside the bathroom door, ranting and raging to get in, and both of your hands claw at his wrist, trying to pull his hand away as words bubble past your lips, high and terrified and desperate.

“No, Kei, not tonight. Please, baby, please, I need you now, right now, Kei, right now, pl-please,” and you’re nearly choking on the pleads as they barrel up your throat and out your mouth, all garbled together and stuffed with spit. “I can handle it, promise,”

A hoarse whine hitches in his throat, the worried knitting of his eyebrows carving creases into his forehead. With pinched features and a scrunched face, it looks almost as if he’s in pain; like it’s pure agony to deny you. And you can see it, can see the internal struggle reflected in his eyes, stare wrought with the tug and pull between desire and care. But that need is growing, spreading, curling around your organs in a tight embrace, suffocating you with its urgency.

A final please, Keigo, croaked out in a broken whimper and thick with the threat of tears, is what breaks him, shatters his resolve to a fine dust and whisks it away in one breath.

“Alright,” he’s murmuring, though his voice is strained, tense and gruff under the combined paradoxical weight of lust and apprehension. “Alright, hush now, I’ve got you,”

Then he’s hoisting you up, and your legs are wrapping around his waist, one hand clutching the top of the glass door, the other digging bruises into his neck as he buries his cock inside of you in one swift movement, a set of relieved gasps escaping you both.

It stings a little, sharp pinpricks shooting through your gut as his thick cock stretches you open, but they’re chased promptly by thorns of pleasure that dissipate the pain.

Because he feels so good, and you feel so full, and everything feels so perfect like this—everything feels right again.

But a boom of thunder explodes through this moment, blowing it to bits and pieces, and you reflexively jump, whole body flinching in his arms.

“Shh,” he’s whispering to you as he pulls you closer, chest pressed flush against yours. “Don’t worry, songbird, I’m gonna make it better, alright? Just focus on me,”

And so you do, eyes slipping shut as his hips begin to pump—slow at first, almost languid in the way they roll forward, each thrust thorough, cock nearly entirely unsheathed before it plunges back in, the head nudging your cervix, and you revel in the delicious cracks rasps—of your name, of curses, and praises—that fall from his lips with each rut.

“S’deep,” you mumble, words already jumbled from the carnal bliss, from the hedonistic decadence that surrounds you, emanating off him and percolating into you, instantly diffusing the tension and panic knotted like thick vines in your chest—even though he’s barely fucking done anything. “S’deep, Kei,”

“Yeah?” the word fans across your face, sweet and fragrant, hazy eyes opening to be met with glittering gold, strands of honeysuckle hair stuck to his forehead and temples, framing the dark gaze watching you, pupils almost voracious in the way they soak up your expressions, almost greedy in the way they scan your face as his hips move, looking for more. His forehead knocks against yours, penetrating stare boring into your face. “Good? My baby like it?”

“So good,” your head nods in small movements with the whimpered affirmation, bumping against his. It’s already beginning to build, smoldering deep in the pit of your stomach, the spark that had been dulled when you had begged him to stop, begged him to give you more—to stretch and fill and form you like your insides were made for him—reigniting, bright and scalding.

“More, please,”

It just slips from your lips, brain already beginning to melt as you allow yourself to be submerged, swallowed and consumed by him; an innate desire that swamps your mind and floods your senses, and you want it all.

But he complies without complaint this time, void of the usual teasing remarks and requests that you beg for it, because he can see how depleted, how drained you are, utterly exhausted from the terror of the storm, his understanding evident in a gentle confirmation tumbling from his lips.

And his groans and grunts are so beautiful, vibrating deep in the recesses of his chest, louder than any thunder as they rumble in your ears. You find solace in them, gulping them in as he pushes them out, letting them vibrate down the column of your throat and collect deep in your belly, kindling with the flickering embers that burn and glow and multiply with each thrust, furling together in a tense ball of churning heat.

The canting of his hips increases, faster and faster and faster with each rock forward, the escalating force resulting in your body to rubbing against the marble and glass, tightly curled fingers readjusting themselves, slipping a little from the foggy condensation coating the surface.

You don’t even realize that your sensitive skin’s been rubbed raw from the action, too tangled up in his noises, his pleasure, his cock, to notice, too tangled up in him to care at all.

“Here,” Keigo pants out, hips suddenly stilling. A low whine catches in your throat, eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to fuck yourself on his cock, a breathless snicker escaping his parted lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he’s telling you as strong arms readjust you, folded wings suddenly spanning, a gentle gust of air bathing your slick body in little goosebumps, before they wrap around him—around you—sheltering you from the glass and marble as they swoop under your ass and thighs, aiding Keigo in supporting your weight. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you, I promise,”

And it’s so much hotter like this, so much more intimate like this, uneven puffs of breath mingling as his forehead rests against yours, florescent lights reflecting off of his thick feathers and tinting everything—his skin, his eyes, his hair—scarlet.

The sudden snap of his hips startles a moan out of you, and he laughs again, carmine-tinged topaz eyes positively glowing. And he looks so gorgeous like this, looks like a fucking god like this, those fine gold hairs that cover his body catching in the soft light and shimmering.

He’s kissing, licking, nipping anywhere he can reach, stamping your flesh with physical manifestations of his love, pace never faltering as skilled, powerful hips continue to pound into you, cockhead dragging against that spot with every buck.

Your legs flex around his waist, muscles coiling as the sphere roiling in your stomach blazes, curled into a concentrated ball of fire. The heat it exudes is nearly unbearable now, heavy as it sinks into your gut, glowing orb spiraling as it coils, tighter and tighter and tighter until—

“Want you to cum for me, baby,” Keigo nearly keens, almost as if he’s begging you instead of commanding, voice cutting through the dense haze your brain has evaporated into. “Can y’do that for me? Be good and cum all over my cock?”

Yes, yes, yes, your head is nodding, emitting affirmatives in the form of high little mewls with each jerk. And it only takes two more sharp pistons of his hips before the fire-filled ball bursts, half of his name escaping your throat in a fractured cry as your entire body stiffens, cunt clenching so vigorously it’s almost painful.

Words start to spill from his mouth, an endless stream of praises, sandwiched between dark groans and broken whines and hitched curses; Y’so good for me, y’know that? Ah, f-fuck—So gorgeous when you gush all over my—my cock, baby, y’feel so good, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Hot, thick cum fills you suddenly, coinciding with his last choked out declaration of love, cock throbbing as it spurts rope after rope, taut stuttering hips pressed flush against your skin.

—

Everything aches as you unwind your limbs from around him, muscles sore and legs trembling as Keigo forces you to stand, propping you up against the shower wall and returning with the fluffiest towel only a moment later. Large hands pull you towards him, dragging you from under the shower head and into his arms, swaddling your shivering body in Egyptian cotton and strong arms and soft feathers.

He leaves the shower running on purpose, steady flow of water hitting the tiled floor and marbled wall, efficiently drowning out any roars or claps of thunder.

And you’re so tired, so pliant and boneless in his arms, barely able to keep your weighted eyelids from fluttering shut. He keeps you in his lap as he sits on the closed toilet, cradling you to his chest as best he can as he gently rocks you back and forth, whispering out praises—you did so well, you always look so gorgeous taking my cock—and avowals of his love, constant words oozing from his lips, sentiments cascading over your body like a stream of thick syrup.

Unconsciousness has you in its clutches, nearly slipping into the familiar embrace that promises the numbing ecstasy that comes with such an intense orgasm, until your tummy growls, and Keigo laughs.

“No, sweetheart,” he chides softly as you nuzzle into his chest, an indignant noise sounding at the back of your throat. “You have to eat at least a little before you can fall asleep,”

“Don’wanna,”

“I know,” he’s saying sympathetically as he stands, placing your feet on the floor a moment later. You wobble a little, eyes still shut, and he chuckles again, murmuring to himself about how fucking cute you are as he begins to dress you, tugging soft fleece that reeks of him over your head.

—

The rain has slowed to a drizzle by the time you’ve been clothed and fed, constant and leaking from the clouds overhead as you snuggle against Keigo in the plush sanctuary of your shared bed, tummy full and happy with roasted chicken and sauteed veggies. A deep contentment settles itself in your bones, weaving itself around the ivory in a protective glaze and imbuing you with a sense of calm, a sense of relaxation, a sense of relief, and you hum, Keigo’s lithe fingers trailing up your spine absentmindedly.

If you’re being honest, you’re not quite sure how he did it, how he slipped, slithered, seeped through the few cracks in your defence without being violent, without being forceful—how he tore down all of the barricades and shields you had built around yourself, hardened and firm from several years of paranoia and distrust, from the perpetual fear of being hurt again. It should scare you, really, how quickly he did it, how easily and inconspicuously he did it. But it doesn’t.

It doesn’t, because he did it with love; stripping those protective walls with genuity and sincerity, dismantling every brick and stone with gentle touches and soft kisses and tender words. He did it with respect, with patience, with passion and affection and devotion.

So it doesn’t, because there’s nothing to fear—because you’ve never felt more safe in your life, here enveloped by his strong arms and cozy wings, resting on his chest, legs tangled in knots together.

And as you drift off to the gentle pat-pat-pat of the raindrops against the windowpane and the steady thumping of Keigo’s heart echoing in your ears, you realize he’s your very own ray of sunshine, forever present to keep those menacing clouds and malicious thunder away, even in the strongest, the harshest, and the scariest of storms.

[electric--blanket]

a place where the heart rests

so, because @thekaiserroll drew fanart of my fanfiction i decided to return the favour by writing a long Wintersberg one-shot based off of her short comic! i hope you enjoy touch-starved Heisenberg.

warnings for death (not for main characters) and some angst.

read on ao3

--

Mama… I want mama. It hurts.

Where’s mama?

Karl Heisenberg always suffered from nightmares. Even before he was taken in by Mother Miranda — as a child, Heisenberg often experienced night terrors that had him screaming in his bed. There were distant memories in the back of his mind, where he’d wake from a terrible dream that had him screaming for his mother — and she’d always come to his side. In that terribly large, cold estate that Heisenberg once called home, it always felt so lonely. But, his mother always eased his fears; with her silk nightgown and the distinct smell of expensive soap. Her soft fingers would comb through Heisenberg’s locks of ashen brown hair, hushing him in a soft tone of voice — a voice he could no longer remember.

During the experiments, it was the only thing Heisenberg begged for when he felt the cadou infesting his body. It felt like a worm wriggling around in the wet soil during a storm, curling and writhing through his organs. He screamed for his mother, wishing she would save him from the pain and take him home again. A seventeen-year-old boy screaming for his mother to come and save him looked utterly pathetic from Mother Miranda’s perspective, and the feeling of fear only intensified when she stroked Heisenberg’s hair whilst he screamed. A soft whisper that uttered, “I’m your mother now, child.” It made Heisenberg nearly vomit.

That was the last time someone had ever touched him so tenderly. He’d not felt a loving touch since then and ducked away from Miranda’s so-called ‘motherly’ touches.

At first, Heisenberg coped with the intense trauma of his bodily changes by taking it in stride and calling his newfound power of magnetism a ‘gift’. He knew deep down it was the opposite: it stopped him from ageing, rendered him infertile and stripped away his dignity by becoming a slave to Miranda. It took a long time for Heisenberg to fully process what had happened to him. His father had left him in the clutches of a madwoman, and his life only got worse from there.

In a fit of rage — perhaps at the age of twenty-nine — he revisited his parent's estate to confront the man he could no longer call ‘father’. He had aged since Heisenberg last saw him, but those steel eyes he’d inherited were still as hard as ever. His mother lingered in a doorway just down the hall, but she didn’t dare come to greet her son as he snapped with a short, interrupted breath. Heisenberg had grabbed his father by the neck and pinned him to the nearest wall, knocking down a beautiful oil painting his mother adored. His fingers didn’t seem to stop, squeezing on the skin and bone until he felt a sickening crack vibrate beneath his fingers.

Heisenberg hadn’t meant it, not really. It was as if a demon had taken control of his body and sought revenge that barely mattered anymore. He didn’t realise what he’d done until he heard the sound of his mother screaming; distraught and fearful of her own son that she’d once coddled so long ago.

That was the last time Heisenberg saw his mother and father. The estate was quickly abandoned not long after, and from what he knew, his mother took her belongings and moved to Austria with some distant relatives. That large house teased Heisenberg every fucking day, with how it towered near the factory grounds and reminded him of what he’d done. Arson wasn’t exactly on his bucket list, but Heisenberg couldn’t resist taking a match to the place and watching it burn. Whatever childhood remained in that house was left in a pile of ashes, and he never looked upon it ever again. All of the silly dreams and hopes he’d had for his life were gone.

That was until Ethan Winters showed up. Nearly a hundred years later, Heisenberg felt something he’d sought after for so long — hope.

**

“Karl? Karl—!”

Mama. I want mama. Everything hurts.

Heisenberg forced his eyes open. It felt like his life was replaying in front of him whilst he was passed out; like watching an old film reel repeating itself and becoming more distorted each time. Up until that very night, Heisenberg’s life had been a series of traumatic events and unforgivable actions.

That night, he’d turned it all around just by laying his eyes on Ethan Winters. A man so incredible, resilient and insane… He’d do anything to get his little girl back. It was the man Heisenberg had oh-so wanted his father to be, and he admired that about Ethan. He’d never been so good at expressing his emotions honestly, or even laying out his ideas in a proper fashion to others… Oh, but Ethan was special. He’d shown Heisenberg patience that he’d not been offered before and decided to join him at his side to kill Miranda. Together.

“Karl… Fuck— Don’t die on me, asshole.”

Ethan… Ethan…

Above the metal remnants of what his mutated body had used as a shell, he could hear Ethan pushing the scrap aside to try and find Heisenberg buried beneath it. He could also hear the distinct cries of a distressed baby, something that brought him back to Earth. Heisenberg reached up through the metal until his bare, calloused fingers brushed up against Ethan’s soft knuckles. There was a moment of silence when their skin touched, but Ethan didn’t waste any time in grabbing Heisenberg’s hand and pulling him out.

The moment the pressure around his body ceased, Heisenberg felt the telltale feeling of sickening warmth seeping from many wounds across his body. The cadou inside him didn’t react too well to it, trying to cope with the trauma done by squirming and pulsating inside of him. Heisenberg drank in the expression of Ethan’s relieved face for just a moment, only until it warped into one of worry and horror. Heisenberg was weak, and his knees buckled beneath the weight of his torso before he fell back onto the ground.

The baby cupped carefully in one of Ethan’s arms began to cry again as Ethan jostled her accidentally in an attempt to help Heisenberg. A baby crying wasn’t really helping Heisenberg’s already distressed state, but it made him realise just how fucked he was. There was no way they would get away in time together, and Heisenberg was too injured to walk. The cadou might have helped to some degree, but it didn’t ease the burning pain in his body, and the loss of blood that was making him dizzy.

Ethan’s horrified expression was pinned on an appendage from the Megamycete, which rose up from the cave systems like a flower bud in spring, ready to bloom. The small, red flashing light alerted him to the fact that Chris Redfield had succeeded in planting the bomb. They had to leave.

“Go.”

A silence hung in the air for just a moment, and Heisenberg didn’t realise what he’d just said. For the first time in his miserable existence, he was being selfless and urging Ethan to leave him behind. It was the last thing Heisenberg wanted.

Don’t leave me here. I’m fucking scared. I don’t want to die yet.

“Fuck you,” Ethan’s voice trembled with venom, “I’m not leaving you here now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

Heisenberg let out a bitter chuckle, tasting the blood seeping from his gums as he grinned, “I don’t think we have any time to be arguing about this, buttercup.”

“No. I— Mia’s dead, Karl. I need you.”

That’s right. Heisenberg briefly recalled Miranda’s kidnapping of the not-so-innocent woman and the experimentation that followed. Unfortunately, her body gave in due to her state after giving birth and she died on Miranda’s operating table. Ethan’s wife was dead, and Rose was now left without a mother’s loving touch.

“I said go. Rose needs her papa intact, not blown to pieces.” Heisenberg insisted, slumping back against the pile of scrap metal.

“Damn it—” Ethan looked hesitant to leave Heisenberg. It was a truly sweet sentiment: to see someone care about him after all this time. After all of the terrible things he’d done, and the love he’d been deprived of… Someone cared about him. Maybe that was enough. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to die like this.

“Fuck.” Ethan stammered again, licking his dry lips and swallowing, “Karl… I… Thank you.”

“... Yeah. I know, Ethan.”

That was all he needed. A trembling, watery smile shot his way before Ethan held Rose close with both arms and turned to run.

He’s going to be a great father.

Heisenberg looked up at the plant-like form the Megamycete had taken, looming down upon the ceremony courtyard with writhing mold creeping closer to Heisenberg. It was then that he decided that giving in like this wasn’t who he was: he was a fighter to his last breath.

In a last attempt to preserve his life, Heisenberg parted the pile of scrap metal and shuffled beneath it all. He rolled his wrist, the cocoon of metal surrounding him and tightening. The metal creaked, drowning out the sounds of the mold writhing around the metal to try and get inside. Heisenberg closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth. I won’t die. Not yet.

The explosion that followed shortly after was deafening, causing the entire ground to shake beneath him and the metal to shudder against his body. It felt painful, rippling off his injured skin like that… But, fortunately for Heisenberg, the explosion wasn’t nuclear — the blast was enough to do the job and wipe out the mold and the Megamycete.

A silence followed the explosion, brick and ash collapsing against Heisenberg’s metal cocoon. Each noise made him flinch, and his fingers twitched instinctively as some final line of defence. He didn’t know how long it was before he felt brave enough to let his guard down and release his telekinetic grip on the metal. The scraps suddenly slumped, collapsing around him as Heisenberg pushed the metal off of his body and emerged like a phoenix rising from the ashes of its former self.

The smoke and dust still remained, causing Heisenberg to cough heavily as he took a sharp inhale of the air. He squinted through the dust and remains of what was left of his home town and realised how much he’d lost. It hit him all at once; his childhood, his parents and his fucked up little family. Even though he hated Miranda and his makeshift siblings deeply, they were all he truly had left to call ‘family’. It was over in the blink of an eye, and Heisenberg suddenly felt like a child all over again. Like a child waking from a nightmare, scared and alone.

Heisenberg’s fingers twitched into tight fists, clamping his mouth shut as tears threatened to spill down his face. Even after all this, he tried to will himself not to cry, to never let down the walls he had so carefully built. But, at that moment there was nothing left to keep the foundations upright. Heisenberg’s fists loosened, and he brought his hands up to cover his face instinctively. A knot seemingly untied itself in his chest and throat, and a guttural sob left him. Maybe — just maybe — it was okay.

**

Navigating the woods was even worse during a snowstorm at night. It was bad enough that Heisenberg’s body was weak from his healing injuries, but it felt haggard from his intense emotional breakdown. In a strange sense, he felt relief from it but at the same time, it felt awfully inconvenient. Heisenberg was sure he looked like a terrible mess; his clothes were torn and his hair was damp with clumps of ash hanging from his silver locks. Not to mention the blood staining his clothes, and his valuable dog tags that hung low on his chest.

In his many idle chats with Ethan before they fought Miranda, he could recall the other man mentioning he didn’t live too far from the village. It was a fair distance away, but not too far that it would be impossible to reach if your car broke down on the road between them. Still, it wasn’t a pleasant or short walk.

By the time Heisenberg even managed to reach a place that looked like a livable home, he was close to collapsing in the snow… But, he held out. The lights were turned off inside, but a motion sensor light on the property turned on once Heisenberg got close enough. The bulb blinded him briefly, and he held a hand up to shield his eyes as he walked up the porch to the door. Heisenberg sluggishly lifted his hand, knocking on the door as hard as he could and leaning against the frame. It took a few moments before he could see a light turn on inside from the windows, and the sound of someone walking down a wooden staircase slowly.

The person on the other side of the door stopped before they reached for the doorknob, and they spoke out.

“Who is it?”

Ethan Winters. That voice Heisenberg had missed so dearly; in all of its glory and full of caution. It almost made him laugh.

“Let me in, Ethan. I’m freezing.”

“Karl?”

“As smart as ever, Ethan. Can you hurry up?”

Ethan was quick to unlock the door and remove the security chain, twisting the doorknob and pulling it open. There, Ethan was standing in a pristine white shirt and some boxers that hung low on his hips… Along with a pair of comical slippers that seemed to resemble a cartoon dog. Heisenberg’s lips twitched into a tired grin.

“Oh my, too much skin, Ethan. Back in my day—”

“Shut up and get in here!”

Ethan grabbed Heisenberg’s arm, tugging him inside to shield him from the snowstorm outside. He slammed the door shut and quickly locked it back up, and the two men finally stood face-to-face. There was a silence that hung in the air, with so many unanswered questions on the tip of Ethan’s tongue, but none came. Without any further hesitation, Ethan threw his arms around Heisenberg’s neck and tugged him close for an embrace.

It was the first time Ethan had touched him in such a way. So full of affection and genuinity, it made Heisenberg’s fingers tremble with uncertainty. He didn’t know what to do with his hands: so overcome with the touches that smothered him. His brows creased into an expression of relief, and Heisenberg’s steel eyes fluttered shut as he succumbed to the hug. He wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist, squeezing him carefully and burying his face into Ethan’s shoulder. The smell of talcum powder and formula milk permeated his shirt, giving Heisenberg the comfort he craved. He never wanted Ethan to stop touching him, and he was content to stay like this for as long as he could — to make up for all the time he’d lost aching after affection.

“I thought…” Ethan mumbled slowly, “I thought you were dead.”

“Mm.” Heisenberg hummed lowly in response, curling his fingers into Ethan’s shirt. “So did I. Turns out I’m hard to kill.”

Ethan snorted softly.

**

As it turned out, Heisenberg wasn’t too bad with kids.

It was a tough adjustment for the two men at first; Ethan had to keep Heisenberg a well-guarded secret as he was moved to a new location with Rose (courtesy of the BSAA). Heisenberg followed their steps at a safe distance, but he was never too far from them. Understandably, Ethan was moved into a smaller home: a humble bungalow in a quiet German village. Once the BSAA had left Ethan in peace with Rose, it didn’t take long before Heisenberg settled into the bungalow with them.

Ethan had insisted that if Heisenberg was going to stay there with him and Rose, then he’d need to learn to help take care of the baby. At first, he was extremely hesitant to do something akin to a parental figure… But, Rose was a surprisingly sweet baby. She didn’t fuss too much and rarely threw a tantrum over the little things. Rose was the right amount of responsibility for Heisenberg, and that made him a patient parent.

He’d been taught how to properly hold her (after many lectures), how to prepare her formula and change her. Rose was understandably unhappy with Heisenberg’s presence at first, perhaps longing for her mother that was no longer around… But, after a few months, she took to Heisenberg very well.

Because of Karl’s lack of mortality and infertility, he never thought he’d take the figure of a father like this… But, it wasn’t exactly an unwelcome opportunity. He’d even upgraded from sleeping on the couch to Ethan’s bed.

The first night Ethan invited him to bed, Heisenberg could tell from the flustered look on Ethan’s face that it took a lot of courage to ask him to bed. A sexual joke lingered on the tip of Heisenberg’s tongue, but he bit it back in favour of keeping the proposal on the table. Instead, Heisenberg had nodded with a cheeky grin and followed Ethan to bed.

There had been some nights where the loss of Mia hit Ethan harder than he’d liked it to — even after Mia’s work with The Connections was revealed, he had still loved her to a degree. Those nights were the hardest. All Heisenberg could do was hold Ethan in his arms and comfort him with nothing more than his presence.

This invitation into Ethan’s bed was far more intimate than a comforting hug. At first, they stayed a polite distance apart on either side of the bed, with Ethan turned on his side whilst Heisenberg stared up at the dark ceiling. In the darkness, his eyes created shapes that danced across the ceiling and warped before him. Much like the mold that infested him, it was as if it continued to taunt him with its presence. After a moment, Heisenberg finally turned onto his side and glanced at the lump that was Ethan with his back to him. That urge to touch returned to the forefront of Heisenberg’s mind. It was that deep ache in his chest, like a lump of flour stuck in a smooth dough that needed to be coaxed inward.

He reached out but stopped himself before he could touch, trying to plan the best way to move forward with what he wanted. Heisenberg pursed his lips, shuffling his body closer to Ethan’s back until he finally slid his arm over Ethan’s waist. He could feel Ethan’s body freeze and tense up a little, which made Heisenberg’s heart feel like stopping altogether. Had he gone too far?

But after a moment, Ethan relaxed, pressing his chest back into Karl slowly. It was all the permission he needed to slot himself fully against Ethan and quietly seek out his hand. Once Heisenberg found it, he carefully laced their fingers together as he held Ethan like that, tugging him close with his elbow.

No words were spoken in the darkness, but a silent understanding of what they both wanted. Heisenberg finally felt complete like this, closing his eyes and exhaling tiredly. His body suddenly felt tired, releasing all the tension it had been holding trying to psyche himself up to do it.

A feeling of affection swelled in Heisenberg’s chest as he held Ethan, finally giving in to the darkness and drifting away with their bond now stronger than ever.

**

“Are you fucking insane, Ethan?!”

Chris Redfield. A thorn in Heisenberg’s side, but not as bad as Miranda. His voice filling their home put Heisenberg on edge, but it didn’t really matter too much to him. It was around ten in the morning, and the couple had just had breakfast. The television was on, playing some cartoons in the background as Rose was sitting on the soft carpet of the living area with her toys, and Heisenberg sat close to her.

When Chris made an unexpected visit, and he spotted Heisenberg in the living room, the yelling began. Ethan had kept Chris just outside of the room so that Rose didn’t see her father getting angry, and Heisenberg made sure to keep her attention on her toys. Heisenberg was wearing a pair of tartan boxers, along with a button-up pyjama shirt with a white tank top beneath it. It wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of bedtime fashion, but it made him comfortable enough at night.

When the yelling only got worse and Rose seemed irritated by the noise, Heisenberg carefully brought Rose into his lap and crossed his legs.

“Hmm,” He hummed in feigned thoughtfulness, “Does ol’ Karl need to perform for little Rose again?” Heisenberg sighed dramatically, “Oh, the things I do for you.”

He turned his body subtly to the kitchen area, holding his hand out and focusing on one of the drawers. It slid open, a few tablespoons floating out from a cutlery tray. Heisenberg pulled his hand back, the spoons floating across to the living area and bringing them to a stop in front of him and Rose. With a simple, slow roll of his wrist, the spoons began to twirl and move in a circular motion above Rose.

Her eyes widened with fascination, the corners of her mouth opening into a gleeful smile. Absently, she reached up with her soft, pink hands and tried to reach for the spoons half-heartedly as they continued their motions. A soft laugh bubbled from her, causing Karl to smile softly.

“He’s a dangerous bioweapon, Ethan. He could hurt Rose!”

Heisenberg managed to hone in on those words; a sharp pain digging into his chest when he realised the implications Chris was trying to make. That Heisenberg was a monster. A bioweapon without feeling. A creature that would kill a child.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ethan pointing wordlessly at the soft scene of Heisenberg with Rose in his lap, entertaining her with spoons. That was all he needed to say, really — without even saying it. Even Chris was at a loss for words, and he quietly relented. Ethan was surely in for an afternoon of lectures.

It made Heisenberg smile a little more, turning his head subtly towards Ethan and catching his gaze. It was his quiet way of saying thank you. It went beyond thanking Ethan for trusting him with Rose but thanking Ethan for listening to Heisenberg, taking him into his home and loving him. Even though they’d never spoken those three little words out loud, maybe they didn’t need to. Their actions, affections and closeness spoke those words loud enough.

Truly, after all this time, Heisenberg didn’t think he was capable of ever being loved or trusted. Now that he’d left that horrible life behind, he was now a father, a friend and possibly a lover. The trauma would always remain, yes, like the cadou and the mutations. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be happy like this, in this simple little life he’d started to build with Ethan.

Maybe it would be okay.

[blissfulparker]

Driving First class→T.H

Parings: mechanic!tom x reader

Summary: A bitter fight with your now ex has you taking your car instead of a train for a business trip. Although out of your pettiness and anger, your car breaks down and you are left in the middle of nowhere but luckily Tom sees your distress and the man who works on the car is your best rescue. But he works on you other ways both Physically and emotionally

Warnings: Dom!tom, sub!reader, degrading(only slightly), sex on top of a car, squirting, oral, unprotected sex (this is fictional please use protection!), orgasm denial, power struggle, Tom being scared of women for two seconds

Word count: 5.5k

A/n: yeah so idk why I got so horny all the sudden and wrote this. Tbh...I like this version of tom, whatever this is I kinda like it. Let me know what you guys think, if you want to see more or less but I present to you: the first full fic I’ve written in months!(also I know barely anything about cars so I’m sorry if it’s cringy😭)

“Fuck! Shit! Dammit! Fuck! Fuck!” You scream. Hitting your hands against the steering wheel. Such a stupid idea with a stupid end result how could you not expect it?

Taking a car instead of a plane or a train across the country to avoid your ex on a business trip. Thinking you were being more bold and brave, proving you never needed him in the first place when now you sit stranded out in the middle of nowhere with a smoking engine and only hours until sunset and you’re sweating your ass off in a suit. A suit, who the hell wears a suit on a road trip?

Your Phone only having one bar and giving you 20%, you’re doomed. Doomed to be stranded out here and either killed by a maniac or killed by a bear. If London even had bears you would be killed by one. Wanting to cry and scream and maybe a train seat next to your ex who cheated was a better option than crying in your grandpa’s old Chevy that you thought was a better idea than the Tesla or the BMW. Anything would’ve been a better idea than this one but for once you couldn’t let go of the fiery side to you and just got in a car with your middle finger to your ex thinking you were so much better than a first class seat with expensive champagne.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” You say to yourself. Your hands run over your face. As dramatic as you can be you think you feel the end coming. The smoke from the engine never dies down and the sun is getting hotter and hotter. No more bubble gum pop plays from the radio but instead the sound of birds chirping and your paranoia of a bear eating you eats at your ears. You think maybe you should’ve sent that drunk ‘I miss you’ text to your ex back two nights ago when you were drunk to maybe just feel his dick once more and get on a stupid train with him but now you are—

“Miss?” A knock at your window causes you to jump. Screaming as you are met with the face of a man and grabbing your pepper spray from the keys and pointing. Even though the window was rolled up you still point and he backs up with his hands up.

“What the fuck!” You scream as you lower the pepper spray. You don’t know when, don’t know how, but now pulled in front of you was a black SUV that was in much better shape than your car. A man who wore a tight white shirt and had sweet chocolate brown curls stood with a scared look on his face.

“I-I’m sorry! I-I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ve seen your smoke some while back and...and you were slumped over your steering wheel and needed to make sure I didn’t need to call police.” He explained very rushed. You place your hand over your heart, calming yourself as you reached to roll down your window so you can properly talk to him. A harmless boy who was probably on his way home.

“I’m fine.” You almost groan as you put your pepper spray back down. Running your hands over your face once again. Tom takes in how nice you look, black suit and neatly painted nails, you looked expensive so what was such an expensive girl like you doing in such a dirty old car like this?

“You got smoke coming from your car, you don’t look fine miss.” He looks at the cloud that still comes from your car. He has a worried look. You hate that you make the assumption of him being a man so he will know how to fix it but at the same time he was an Angel sent from Heaven,

“The engine blew out...at least I think…” you trail off. Honestly you didn’t know anymore, The last time you worked with a car was when you were 15 and before your grandpa died. The only person who truly taught you about cars now seemed to be reincarnated into the Greek god in front of you.

“Mind if I take a look?” He asked and you nodded as you popped the hood.

Stepping out of your car you join the boy in the front. Taller than him in the heels you wore having him look up at you as if you were the Angel sent down in the moment.

He doesn’t hesitate to dig his fingers into your car. Feeling the overheated engine and you watched as his eyes went in shock and his sigh. You were fucked. Utterly fucked and no, it wasn’t by some hot guy on a plane like you wished in the moment.

“She’s busted.” He looked at you. You almost want to roll your eyes and go ‘thanks’ as if you already didn’t know that. “I might be able to fix her up, gotta take her back to the shop and see what I can do but other than that she’s no good for a ride.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at you again.

“You mean it’s like broken broken down?” You start to panic even more. Ruining the BMW was far more worth it than the ‘57 Chevy you drove. No one made a car like this anymore and you adored it. Every chip of paint, every dent, each faded seat you loved as your own.

“I can see what I can do.” He shrugged. He starts to walk to his car, opening the trunk to hook your busted vehicle up to his and drag it back to where he just came from. As he starts to hook up your car you only just stare, watching as he does his work. He rubs his now oily hands on his pant leg before he looks up at you.

“You wanna hop in the front?” He asked and you started walking to your car and he let out a laugh. “No I meant my car, Angel.”

The random man that pulls over on the side of the road, has you pointing your pepper spray one moment ago now has you acting like a idiot as he was so pretty and a gift sent just for you.

“Right,” you walk around to the passengers seat. “Sorry.” You cleared your throat as you sat and waited in silence. Waiting for him to come around and when he does he doesn’t say anything but just starts up the car.

“You’re not going to kill me are you?” You looked over to him who has a goofy grin on his face.

“No sweetheart.” He shakes his head and you sigh in relief. As if he would even tell you that he was going to kill you. “You’re not going to kill me are you? With that spray you’ve got?” He teased and you shook your head.

“No, and sorry, I was just panicked and you are—“ you started but he lets a low laugh that you find so attractive.

“No I get it, you’re fine.” He stared back at the road. You were so use to the city, the tall building and the blinding lights you never really got to see the beauty of London outside of it. The gorgeous countryside you never knew existed actually did. But the countryside only lasted for so long before you were in a town filled with some of the cutest shops and was like a small city. So cute and so tiny.

“You wear heels on a road trip?” He broke the silence again and this time you’re looking at the four inch shoes.

“I-well-“ you looked and sounded like a proper idiot. You worked for one of London’s best businesses and now you were stumbling over your words, “well...yes? I’m on a business trip.” You admit and he looks back at the busted vehicle.

“I don’t know what business you work for but them sending you in a—“ he starts and you shake your head.

“No, no, that is mine. I thought—I didn’t want to go on a train and—it’s just complicated. A complicated stupid mess.” You tell him and he tilts his head as if he was agreeing.

“Well, I’ll see how well I can get you out of the complicated stupid mess.” He flashed a smile before he turned into what looked like a garage. A large garage that was filled with cars of all types, from new to old there were cars that had looked like they had been worked on for days as Tom pulled his car up and turned it off.

“We have some water in the front if you need some and there's a bathroom in the back. Make yourself a home, I'll get started.” and so for once, instead of just staring at him as if he was a piece of art hanging in the louvre, you search for the bathroom and the water he was talking about.

Leaving him to pop back open your hood, you walk into the bathroom and run cold water over your face. Feeling yourself relax at the feeling of finally getting the heat from the sun out of your face. Facing yourself in the mirror, you stare long and hard at yourself. The dimly lit bathroom, the achy feeling in your feet from being so stupid and wearing heels, the fact you broke down in god know what part of london but now you are in a mechanic shop and you are letting some random person fix up your beloved car.

“Should’ve just gotten on the train.” you groan as you take a paper towel and dry your face. Reaching for the door and walking back out to the garage where tom was now in a white tank top that was stained black all over, he had a towel over his shoulder as he worked at your car. You try to swallow the lump in your throat as you are completely mesmerized by the man in front of you.

Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train. Should've gotten on the train.

“Fuck!” Tom almost hits his head on the hood of the car as he sees you. You think he had curly hair at the start, now he had hair that kind of stuck to his forehead from the heat and sweat of your car. His hands are covered in black oils and he wipes them on the towel. “You scared me.” he lets out a breath as if he held it in and you take a seat at the stool next to the table filled with tools as he walks over to it.

“Sorry,” you say as you look at the car and try not to make it obvious you want to fuck him right now. A complete stranger that picked you up, you want to fuck. What if he did want to kill you? What if he had a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Or a family of kids? What if-

“You hear me?” he was closer to you than ever and you felt your whole body go weak.

“I'm so sorry,” you shake your head. “What did you say?’

He lets out that stupid pretty laugh of his again as he puts tools back in the tool box. Cleaning up the mess he just made he repeats himself.

“I said, your car is so old that they don't make the part I need to fix her up anymore. Luckily I know a guy who has the part but it will take a few days to come in. the engine is completely busted and i think if i go a year up in model I can put it in just right. But for now she needs to cool off. She’s not gonna be able to drive for a while.” he gives you almost a pout and you slouch your shoulders.

“So I'm screwed?” your brows raised and he gave you a pressed lipped look.

“Im sorry angel, I got a spare room at my place or there is a bed and breakfast up the road I can drop you off at but for now there is nothing I can do.” he says and you sigh. Maybe you want to cry, scream, throw something but Tom notices it all at once as he watches your head drop.

Tom grew up around boys. His whole life was wrestling with his brothers and working on cars. He never dealt with girls crying. Even when he had girlfriends they typically left when they were crying but now he has a crying girl right under his roof after he worked on her car. It did take everything in him to not ask why she used the old thing but he knew a lot more was happening than just a beat down old car.

“I'm sorry. I should thank you, not cry.” you sniffled as you looked up at him who was on his knees crouched down for you. Face to face, he had a concerned look.

“I have a feeling that car isn't why you’re crying.” he didn't know how to play therapist and mechanic but tonight he would.

“I was so stupid not to just get on the train. God, I would have already been there by now and all because I didnt want to sit next to my stupid cheating ex who I thought I was so much better than if I just got in this old thing and drove there myself.” you wipe your eyes and he hands you a tissue but you shake your head.

“He sounds like a shit guy.” He spoke and you nodded.

“He is, but he was the only one that gave a shit about me and now I'm here like an idiot. Well, not an idiot...no, yeah. An idiot. You're really nice and sweet though so thank you.” you try and give him a smile and he stands up.

“Get up.” he groans a bit as he stretches his legs. “C’mon sweets, get up. I’m not going to let you cry over a guy who treated you like shit. You drink?” he asked and you nodded. “I have some beer in the fridge, you already had a shit day let's not cry about it.”

You don't know if you wanted to throw the wrench at him or if you needed him to say that. Either way he sets an ice cold beer in front of you and pops open the top for you.

Probably making more money than everyone in this town, you never thought you would plop down on a nearly broken bar stool in the middle of a car mechanic shop and drink away your feelings with a random man you just met today. You didnt even know his name, nor did he know yours but he listened to everything you had to say about your ex boyfriend who was probably fucking some model right now while you for once felt like you didnt have to play pretend nice in front of someone. How you don't know what god above sent this man in front of you but he did and he listened to each of your problems, nodding and not saying anything back as he just listened to everything.

“I used to work on cars too.” you look over at the cars and he raises his brows.you had finally stopped crying so much, realizing what was happening and where you were but you felt like a weight was taken off your shoulders when you told him everything. Not even your best friend could make you feel like that.

“Penthouse princess used to work on cars?” he teased and you only nudged his shoulder.

“Wow, penthouse princess?” you repeat back to him with a playful smile and he nods.

“Never got your name and you live in a penthouse and act like a princess.” he takes a sip of his beer and you finally extend your hand to meet his.

“(y/n).” you shook his dirty one but wow were his hands thick. You could feel each callous and feel each crooked finger. Your mind went to dirty places and you think maybe he caught on as he watched your legs cross over themselves as you shook his hand.

“Tom.” his thumb swiped over yours as he shook your hand. The feeling made you swallow hard and him smirk just a bit for himself. Before you could get too comfy you walked over to a truck that already had its hood popped open. You stumble a bit in your heels and the uneven ground and Tom is quick to follow you to make sure you don't hurt yourself.

“That's the engine.” you point. And he nods, his hand is on his hips as he watches you point and explain. “That's the brake pad, that's where you put in the oil…” you trail on and Tom nods as you get everything correct.

“Very good, darling.” he nods impressed and you look over at him with a smirk.

“What? No penthouse princess?” you're close to him. You didn't realize how close he was to you before you turned around and are almost chest to chest with him.

“Mmh, you have a preference?” he teased and you look down at your feet. You're still taller than him, but you think even without the heels on you would be either taller or the same height as him. You were always told that you were the one in control, always the one in demand which seemed to be a complaint by your ex.

“Mmh,” you lean in close enough to where your chest is gently pressed against his. “I'm not sure yet.” you let your hand go to the strap of his tank top, its dirty with oil before you let your hands go down and touch the muscle. Feeling just how strong he was, he was pretty tanned too. He was both toned and tanned as he watched your hands trail down to the bottom of his shirt.

His hands rested on your waist. Holding you tight in place and maybe in the moment he was the shorter on but he was always in control. Always.

“You seem so indecisive, do you want to drive or get on a train? Get back with a man or stay away? You don't even know where you want to sleep at night but you still act like you're so in control.” he almost mocks, giving you the same pout you had throughout the entire night and it shocked you.

“I know what I want.” you nearly snarl back and he clicks his tongue.

“Yeah?” he almost whispers as he leans in for your ear. “Prove it.”

You don't know when or how but his lips quickly land on yours. In a rough fight for dominance he has his hands wrapped around your thighs and has you picked up and laid down on one of the cars with a hood down. You don't realize it's your car with his hood down until you brace yourself on the hood. Stripping of your suit jacket and fiddling with your pants button but tom is already on it. He's down on his knees, undoing the straps of your shoes as he lets his hands go up and undo the buttons of your pants. Having you nearly completely naked in front of him, that's not exactly what he was going for as he picks you up from the hood as has you on your knees in front of him.

“Was so cute, you thought you were going to get exactly what you wanted.” his hand was dirty as it stroked your face but landed a grip on your chin. Pulling you in close, your head in between his thighs looking up at him with pleading eyes. You almost whimper, you were on your knees for a man you didn't know and you were almost whimpering.

“Dont act stupid.” he nearly spit at you as he leaned back. Your hands are going to unzip his pants but he stops you. Forcing you to rest your hands on his thighs as he pulls himself out of his pants. You swallowed hard as he was bigger than you had expected--far bigger than your ex as you felt like your mouth was watering as he used his thumb to stroke over the tip.

“Stick your tongue out.” he told you. You gladly stuck your tongue out with your mouth wide and ready to take him. He had one grip on your jaw and the other guiding his cock into your mouth. You start to suck but that's not what he wanted. He held your jaw in place as he thrusted up into you.

“Thats a good girl,” he hissed as he used your mouth as if it was his own personal toy. You reached to stroke what couldnt fit in your mouth and he let out an airy laugh. “What a little whore you are.” he shook his head. “So desperate, is this not enough for you? Sucking on my cock not enough for you?” he taunted you and you only moan—or at least try to moan and he laughs.

“What was that darling? I can't seem to hear you?” he teased and you only whined more with your mouth around him. You play a game with yourself where you think you can make him cum like this. Making him cum this early would mean that you always were more incharge from the start. But you barely know him, you don't know how long he can last.

“Get up.” he pulls your head off of him. His cock still hard as it fell onto his stomach and you were drooling with his precum. Your eyes don't even look up at him you look at the redness of his cock, how you want more of it and maybe you were the whore like he said.

“Look at me,” he pulled you up, now face to face with him. His hand that was free slips in between thighs, teasing as he gets closer and closer to your core and he clicks his tongue again. “Such a dirty girl, don't even want to look at me, say thank you, you just look at my cock wanting more. You want more?” he strokes your cheek and you nod. “What was that? A moment ago I thought I was talking to one of the richest girls in London but now I feel like I'm talking to just some whore--” he starts to talk but your lips are already on his. You straddle his hips. Extremely unsturdy but he quickly picks you up and flips you over. As much as he'd loved to see what you look like on top of him. Tits bouncing for him and trying to hold on, here was not the best place. He would get a better view later, he just knew it.

For now he flips you over on your stomach. You're pressed up against the car as he wraps his hand around your waist and uses his fingers for a bit.

“So fucking tight.” he slides in slowly at first. Making you gasp and him hiss. “That other boy fuck you like this?” he asked but you were too busy trying to feel more of him. His hand comes down to your ass and in shock you yelp. “I asked you a question, don't say you don't know manners either.'' He was close to your ear and you shook your head no.

“No!” you nearly cry out as he pushes into you. Completely filling you up. You feel tears perk at the corner of your eyes for how desperately you needed him. You even push back on him and he lets out a soft laugh. “H-he's never fucked me like this, god tom please move!” you cry out. His hands come to your waist and he clicks his tongue again.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he teased as he pulled himself fully out and pushed himself fully back in. you cry out, not caring who heard you, you cried out as he fucked into you like you two were the last people on earth.

“Fuck youre so tight.” he threw his head back as he held on to your hips. You felt yourself give up under him. There was no use in you trying to take control anymore when he did this to you. Had you dumbed down just for his dick.

“I need to cum tom.” you cry out. You try and open your eyes to look back at him who has created a rhythm for your body. His head is thrown back and he shakes his head.

“No.” was all he said and you nearly cry more. “Not yet.” was all he said as he went faster.

“Please, please, please.” you begged between a mixture of moans and cries. Reaching back to hold his hands but he quickly moved them to wrap around your waist and touch your clit. Using his thumb to rub gentle circles you nearly

“So cute when you whine like that.” he chuckled. You felt him twitch, knowing he was close too, you clenched your walls around him. You could barely hear his gasp but you have your cheek pushed up against the hood of your car that got you here in the first place.

“Fuck,” he struglld to moan out. “C-Cum for me.” he sped up and your whole body went numb. You swear you pass out for a moment as all you hear are his moans and the sudden feeling of him stopping.

Both heavy breathing you slowly move yourself to get up, at least turn yourself around so you can face a clearly stunned tom. His mouth open just a bit and his eyes are wide.

“Y-you squirted.” he tells you and suddenly you go from feeling like the sexiest person alive to feeling your body heat up in full embarrassment.

“I-i'm so sorry i-i didn't know-” you start to stammer as you reach for your shirt to clean him up but he shakes his head still trying to catch his breath.

“No, It was hot.” he says as his shock turns into a small smirk, cocky that he was able to do that. “Fuck, have you ever done that before?” he asked.

Your cheeks heated up, even though he couldn't see the clear embarrassment you nodded. One time, years ago when you were by yourself. You hadn't touched yourself in over a month and it was just the highest setting of your vibe and the hottest porn star you could find that had done it to you. Never ever had an actual man been able to make you do that. Hell, you were lucky if your ex even made you cum.

“O-Once, once but I was by myself.” you swallowed hard, you could already see the smirk on his face as he knew he was so much better than anyone you had ever had. He didn't even know your ex partners but if he could get you to do that the first time he fucked you then even you knew you didn't need anyone else.

He uses his clean shirt to clean you up. Helping you slip back on your underwear and making sure that you could still walk--you barely could. He helps you into his car. Letting you cool down a bit before he drove out of the garage, driving down the road and it was only about a minute until you arrived at the cutest house you had ever seen.

He lifted you out and brought you inside, passing you clothes that were far better to sleep in than a suit and your completely ruined underwear, you found yourself getting comfy under his bedsheets.

“So im guessing im not going to the bed and breakfast for the night?” you nuzzled into the sheets that smelt of ocean spray and cedarwood. This man was some sort of god, you swore on it.

“Hmm, no. unless you still want to.” he slides under the sheets himself. His hands dont touch you but you gladly lean in and wrap your arms around him. He at first stills, stiffens his whole body before he relaxes for you. He didn't even know what he was thinking. First he helps the pretty girl he worried was dead on the side of the road and now he has her in his bed after having one of the best orgasms of his life.

“No,” you hum against his chest. “If you don't mind.” but it wasn't a question. This time you take control over the situation and fall quickly asleep in his arms. He only lays there, waiting for you to find yourself fully asleep.

Fuck that stupid train, fuck your stupid ex, and fuck him.

-

Dark roast and sizzling eggs fill your nose. You wake up with puffy eyes, from crying last night embarrassingly in Tom's arms you look down and see you're only in a random stained tee and your underwear. In a way,you thought you hit your head hard enough on the steering wheel that all of this was a dream but it was real. You lay in a grey sheeted bed and hear the sound of music come from the kitchen.

Ideally, if you got on the train, you would have woken up in a hotel with a view of the city and probably eat half of a bagel and drink rich coffee from the breakfast bar before being off to your first conference of the day. But you were instead naked in the bed of a man who was helping you fix your car.

You stumble out of the bed, your legs wobbly, feeling as if you did a hardcore work out you nearly wince. What the man did was something you swore was only in porn. You don't know what kind of magic fucked him over while he works on cars but his fingers were skilled.

“Woah, woah,” Tom came over to you. Plaid boxers and no shirt, you think you died and went to heaven. Your car exploded and you died and went to heaven and if this is what it was then you were perfectly okay with that. “You okay?”

You nod, sitting at the island and only watching him. You knew you had to say a word soon but you didn't know what to say.

“Not so sure how you liked your eggs so I made them scrambled because that's personally how I like them but I can make them any other way you like-” he starts to go off and you only nod.

“No, I like scrambled.” When was the last time you had a breakfast like this? You grew up with servants and your parents are always gone. You never had a breakfast as simple as this.

He gave you a smile, you walked over to the coffee machine and poured coffee into the mug that was already out.

“Not sure if you were a coffee or tea type of person, if you-” before you could listen to his ramble again you shook your head.

“I like coffee. Coffee for the morning and tea typically in the evening.” you tell him and he gives a smile and a sweet nod.

“Me too.” was all he said before he remembered what was happening. “Hey, when do you have to be at that business trip? Or whatever it was?” you nearly spit out the coffee as he brings it up. You knew everything that was happening but honestly you were holding on to the concept you died and went to heaven but you had a conference in probably an hour and who the hell knows where you are.

“You know what,” your heart suddenly calms down. The panic subsides as you take another sip of that coffee. “Fuck them. They have waited for others before and they can wait for me. Fuck the trip, fuck the car and fuck my ex.” you felt good saying it. Tom slid you a plate of eggs and toast and you smiled.

“The car is still better than the train?” He remembers how all of this is about you and your ex fighting and you not wanting to sit on the train next to him.

With a smile, with everything that had happened within the past 24 hours, you pick up the plate and turn to tom.

“I don't think I should've taken the train.”

Permanent Taglist: @hoodiesparker @dahliaspidey @parkersvibes @itssss-a-bean @ppkrtingle @myfinalwords @bocaul @tinyplanet-explorers @sincerlyfan @softbaby-Tom @awesomeblackcottontail @rosebeegraham @stormyholland @unicorn-princess-1999 @spideyyypeter @marshyrebelcloud @oh-epiphany @yeahimcrying @highlydisfunctional1 @disgustangg @pterstingle @quacksonhq @starlightparker @reblogsfics @tomsrebeleyebrow @dreamyyholland @imaginashawnns @alilpunkrock @peterspideysenses @lovely-valllll @lowkey-holland @hannaholland1811 @kthemarsian n @maryjane23 @jillianaholland @dummiesshort @paracutepants @heartofholland @quacksonhehe @tomhollandssecurityguard @illicitparker @ladykxxx08 @bellelittleoff @peterbenjiparker @cherthegoddess @namoreno @sunsetholland @lillatina004 @peterparkersbabygurl @augustdowney @a-daydreamers-day @spideyspeaches @sinisterspidey @mathletemadison

Tagged for mechanic!tom: @londonspidey