#windows laptop is fucking wild

[charlieestudies]

arguably the best discovery of term 2 of uni: i can actually study in the law building! i’ve struggled with finding an indoor study space that i can actually focus in, bc all the study spaces have people packed in + that awful fluorescent lighting and there’s just way too much going on for my brain to like? work? but there’s enough room in here to sit away from other people + a bunch of natural lighting so yeah

[ashonheavenscloud]

Manners || Seo Changbin (+18)

Manners || Seo Changbin (+18)

🔞CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT! MINORS DNI!🔞

⚠️warnings: dom!changbin, brattysub!reader, swearing, thigh riding, dirty talk, degradation (use of the word slut), bit of praise, manhandling ahaha-

word count: 3.9K

🎧: tied to your body - monsta x

a/n: my first smut on tumblr! i finished writing it yesterday, and i’m really happy with it. enjoy!🥀

———

In terms of stamina when it came to sex, no one could outdo Changbin.

You didn’t need any proof- it was just undoubtedly true. He could go round after round on you, and that wild fire in his dark eyes would never even flicker. Whether he was eating you out, or slowly making love, or shoving your body into the pillows, he never seemed to tire. Sometimes, sessions didn’t end until you were too exhausted to go any more, and you’d fall asleep the instant he collapsed next you, pulling you gently to his firm chest as your tired body succumbed to rest.

Yeah, his stamina could never be matched. But as for actual sex drive? For that gutteral desire to fuck and be fucked whenever the opportunity arose?

Now that, you won at.

Could you really be blamed, though, when Changbin just gave you everything he could- and did it so fucking well? And Changbin, as much as he loved to ruin you- and take his sweet time doing so- had always been the calmer, level-headed person in your relationship. You, on the other hand, had no problem admitting how crazy you were over him- in every way, honestly. 

Today, your mind just happened to be wandering to… dirtier places.

Maybe it was just because you hadn’t seen him most of the weekend- he’d spent a lot of time working, you’d spent a bit out of town. Maybe it was just an instinct, or maybe it was hormonal or some shit. Or maybe it was because, the moment you walked into the studio to find him at his laptop, eyes narrowed and focused, arms just barely able to fit into his shirt, you realized that you were only human.

And you were down bad.

You let the door shut behind you before speaking up. “Hey.”

The boy didn’t even look up, so invested in his work that he couldn’t tear his eyes from it. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Just stopping by.” You responded, fidgeting in your spot. “Binnie?”

“Hmm?” Again, he remained locked on the screen, fingers flying across the keyboard.

You stepped closer, and placed your hand on his shoulder. Dressed only in a white tee and tight black pants held up by a thin belt, he looked like a hundred bucks, all firm muscle and broad back. You resisted the urge to feel up his arm, going for a straightforward approach. “I brought you something.”

“What?” He asked, at last turning to look at you- and you were suddenly glad for the short skirt you’d decided to wear. The way his eyes scanned your body was enough to make you flush, skin burning.

You smiled coyly, playing with the hem of your skirt. You just knew it drove him crazy. “Me.”

Slowly, he began to smile. “Five minutes, babe. And I’m all yours.”

He turned back to his work, headphones placed back over his ears, and honestly? You were a little bit pissed. Well, frustrated was probably a better word. God, did he look fit and fine, biting his lip as he tried to finish the project he was working on.

As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him… your very core was tingling with need. You clasped your hands together, playing with the bracelet around your wrist in hopes of distracting yourself, but to no avail. Especially not when he began to hum something, in his deep, sultry voice.

It’s just five minutes. You told yourself firmly, inwardly scoffing. You can wait five fucking minutes.

But you knew now that all your patience had flown out the window the moment you’d stepped into the studio. You couldn’t help it- he was your weakness. 

And if he wouldn’t pay you any attention on his own, you’d make him need to.

You discarded your shoes and purse, taking a deep breath before approaching him. You placed a hand over his shoulder, making him briefly look at you with a smile. You smiled back, then quickly slipped onto his lap, facing away from him, smirking at the feeling of his tip prodding your ass. You not so subtly shifted over him, feeling him tense as you did.

You glanced over to see Changbin raising an eyebrow, and you knew he wasn’t at all oblivious to what you were trying to do. You tilted your head, making him sigh. “Okay, babe, okay-”

He swiftly pulled you closer to him, spinning you around on his lap to face him. You eagerly began to situate yourself- but it seemed like Changbin had other plans. He firmly gripped your hips and moved you, keeping you centered over his firm right thigh.

“There.” He pulled his head phones over his ears, acting nonchalant- but his gaze never left yours as he added, “Go on.”

His thighs flexed as he shifted slightly, and the small amount of friction to your core already had you whining, core burning with desire. A tiny flicker of a teasing smirk pulled against Changbin’s lips.

“Go on.” He repeated, this time quieter, tone dark and taunting. “If you want it so bad, get off yourself.”

A red hot flush burned your face as it dawned on you what exactly he wanted. He was going to sit there. And you were going to have to do all the work yourself.

You couldn’t deny that the idea of riding Changbin’s thigh was hot, to say the least. He didn’t work out nearly every day for nothing, after all. But you didn’t want to settle for something so… effortless. You wanted to be straight fucked out. So, you made a resolution.

You’d listen to him; ride him like your life depended on it. And you’d make sure you broke him at the same time.

Slowly, you brought your hands to his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. Was that your imagination, or did his upper body tense ever so slightly? You let your fingers dig into his skin, let your body fall against his chest, and then-

You moved.

You slowly dragged yourself forward, feeling every flex and tense of Changbin’s thigh through the fabric of your panties, every taunt muscle stimulating your clit and dizzying you when a gratifying wave of pleasure rolled through your gut. You didn’t have to see Changbin smirk to know that he was tensing and relaxing his thighs on purpose, each small movement electrifying against your dripping pussy.

And honestly, it felt so. Damn. Incredible.

The next grind of your hips was less hesitant, and you set a rapid pace, hoping that this was driving Changbin just as crazy as it was you. Every drag of your core against Changbin’s thick thigh made the fire in your gut roar louder- you needed him. Inside. Now.

Your fingers wandered, first to his chest, running along the toned muscles of his pecs and massaging his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. The reaction was almost instantaneous; Changbin shifted again- adding to the pleasure of your clit rubbing against his thigh- and cleared his throat.

“Y/n.” He said under his breath, dark tone warning.

You ignored him, grinding your hips down again, dragging yourself slowly over his massive thigh, certain he could feel your arousal dripping from your panties. And you made a show of it, moaning against his skin, making your legs tremble as your hands moved again. This time, they followed the ridges of his stomach, and the dip of his hips underneath his shirt.

You could see the veins along his neck, more noticeable than before, as he swallowed roughly. His fingers had paused, hovering over the keyboard as you fingered the waistline of his pants, taking careful note of how he reacted to each touch of your skin against his. His eyes, resolute, stayed on the screen in front of him- but the glaze across them proved just how unfocused he really was.

Now- now was the time to really play dirty.

“Binnie…” you breathed, fingers ghosting along his stomach, then lower, dipping under his pants. You leaned closer, pressing against his chest, pressing your mouth to his ear, dragging your lips along the curl of his ear before taking his earlobe in between your teeth. “Mmm…”

You could feel his breath stutter, but he still tried to remain calm. “Y/n, let me… finish this.”

“It’s my turn.” You pouted, pressing your tongue against his golden skin. Your teeth nibbled his earlobe, your hands crawling further and further, caressing the dip in his hips. 

“Y/n-” He sounded so gloriously desperate- the kind of desperate you were. “Just…”

With the next grind of your hips, you brought your knee up with you, making sure to brush against the- now very obvious-tent in Changbin’s pants. Immediately his body stiffened, muscles tensing, as his hands shot out to grip your waist and firmly hold you still. Your heart jolted at the sudden movement, a little worried you’d crossed the line- but when you pulled back to look at him, you were met with a gaze absolutely dripping with red hot lust.

His next words came out in a low, dangerous tone. “Someone needs to learn a thing or two about manners.”

You could only hold your breath, nerves tingling at the pure anticipation of it all. His erection against your knee was rock hard, practically making you drool at idea of being absolutely fucked out by Changbin. Indeed, the way he was staring at you made you unbearably hot.

And then he was kissing you, and it wasn’t like how Changbin usually started a make-out- slowly, as to take his time letting the fire heighten. But the fire was already roaring, and despite all his talk of patience just minutes before, he seemed anything but patient now.

You could hear his grunts as he kissed you harder, slipping his tongue between your lips and making you practically melt against him. Your hands kept wandering, hips digging into his thigh, as your gut screamed for something. Your legs closed around his, eyes squeezed shut as Changbin’s mouth dropped yours, and he started kissing down the column of your neck.

“Can’t wait even five minutes for me to finish my work? Do I make you feel that needy?”

“Mm… yes- yes-” you managed, gasping when Changbin nipped at your skin, then sucked on one of your sweet spots, right by your collarbone.

“You just can’t wait for me to ruin you, hmm?” He blew on the red mark that was sure to bruise dark purple later, making you shiver, hands clutching at his belt. “Want me to fuck you so hard, make you feel good?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You plunged your hand farther into his pants, and squeezed his dick over his boxers. Immediately you could feel him twitch, and he hissed, thighs tensing, chest heaving. “God, baby-”

“Please-” you whispered, willing to do anything he asked.

“Good. That’s a start.” Changbin hummed, drawing his head back from your neck before wrapping his arms around your waist. In one swift movement, he tossed you over his shoulder, making your insides jolt with excitement as he carried you quickly to the nearby sofa and placed you on your back.

Without wasting any time, Changbin pulled his shirt over his head and threw it over his abandoned chair. Next he made a show of pulling the belt from his pants, before tossing those away as well. At last, he turned back to you. His eyes were piercing and hooded, and everything about that gaze had your core clenching around nothing. God, he was so attractive, with his sculpted figure and firm muscles all on display for you to admire. He crawled over you, straddling you, thighs around your waist keeping you in place.

“I want you to ask nicely this time. Be a good girl, and tell me exactly what you want.” He said in a hushed voice, staring down at you with his fingers tracing absentminded patterns up and down your sides. 

You ignored the question, tired of waiting, and pulled his face down to you. Your lips connected with the strength of magnets, locked to each other as Changbin gave in- at least momentarily- to relish the feeling of you. You arched your back to feel the heat of his body against your skin, and felt suddenly irritated by the amount of clothes between you and his bare chest. Quickly, you peeled off your jacket and stripped the shirt beneath over your head, allowing only a second for your lips to be away from his own in order to get it over your head. Then you’d whipped the shirt away and reached to cup his jawline, at the same time that his hands gripped your neck to pull you back, craving endlessly for more of his mouth devouring yours.

“Well-” he sounded breathless, lips crawling down to find your breasts and suck at the nipples, making you arch your back further at the wet, warm feeling of his mouth around the bud. “Guess you’re not being my good girl today.”

“Please, Changbin-” you moaned, core clenching helplessly- his lips sucking on your nipple was driving you insane. “I just want you to fuck me.”

His crotch was pressed between your hips, and at the words he offered a subtle grind. You gasped, and he murmured, “Oh, that’s all? Say it like you mean it.”

You whimpered as his other hand dropped to massage your other breast, desperation growing in the form of arousal coating your pussy. “I want you to fuck me so bad- o-oh-” another sublte grind of his hips, and you had to take a minute to catch your breath before adding fervently, “I want you to fuck me any way, every way. God, just please, Changbin I-I need- ah-”

He was sucking deeply on the bud of your other breast now, and it was almost too much- but still far from enough. He was a drug you could never be tired of.

In desperation, you dug under his boxers, clamping both hands around his dick, feeling the pulse and twitch of his member as he released a deep groan, hips bucking into your grip. 

You caught his gaze, caught the way they were beginning to tremble, their resolve fraying. You’d almost won- and all it took was…

“I need you to ruin me, Changbin.”

His eyes widened. Between your hands, his cock twitched. He closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply before sitting back on his heels. In a matter of seconds, he’d discarded his boxers, gaze never falling from your eyes. Soon enough, he was over you again, teasing the buttons of your skirt.

Before he did anything, though, he leaned down. “Hope you locked the door behind you.” He breathed into your ear, and you could practically hear the smirk in his tone.

And then his lips were attached to your neck, and his fingers were frantically pulling at the buttons of your skirt, and your stomach was churning with excitement. The moment he freed all the buttons, you lifted your hips so he could slide them off, along with your panties. The cool of the studio greeted your bare skin, but you’d never felt so feverishly hot in your life. 

Changbin lightly touched two fingers to your folds, making you gasp at the sensation. He lifted his gaze to you, eyebrows raised. “You’re fucking soaked.”

You couldn’t respond, only watch dazedly as he turned his attention back to your dripping pussy. The glaze of his eyes made you shiver, heart beat flying a million miles an hour. He was so focused on your wet little hole- and then all of sudden, he was bending down, offering feather light kisses to your clit. It was all you could do not to jerk and grind against him, the shockwaves of pleasure from his touches addicting in every sense of the word. 

Then you felt the stretch- two fingers inserted into your hole caused a stifled groan to leave your throat. Changbin chuckled, the sound vibrating against your pussy, before he pulled them out again. The pace he set was fast and merciless; he pumped into you, curled his fingers exactly the right way, before pulling out again. And repeat, and repeat, and repeat.

And you were a mess because of it.

He knew your best spots. He knew how to work you, exactly when to flick your clit or take it in his mouth. He knew how to please you, how to finger-fuck you like you’d never experienced it before. Soon enough your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on your skin, eyes squeezed shut, head dizzy from the pleasure.

Changbin barely said a word, too focused on his task, until he pulled his fingers out for the last time. You opened your eyes, the ache in your core only heightened by his foreplay. Changbin, however, took his time rubbing his swollen cock, covering it with your arousal before he was over your hips again.

“Look at my baby.” He whispered, hands feeling up your sides. “So fucking needy. You’re practically drooling over my cock.”

You couldn’t even argue against it, so you just lifted your hips to grind against him, sending a very clear message. Changbin’s eyes flashed the moment you did that.

“You want it so bad? Hmm, baby? Fucking take it.”

And what followed was the most intense stretch as Changbin entered you, throbbing cock rubbing against your walls and filling you so well you almost screamed through your next string of moans. Changbin hissed and grunted as he pushed into you, and at last bottomed out. Your thighs trembled and your breaths were coming out erratic, because god, did he feel incredible. Every pulse and small movement of his dick was like electricity.

Changbin glanced at you, making sure you were adjusted before pulling back out. He hesitated only a moment before plunging back in, pulling your hips back to his at the same time. You cried out when he hit your g-spot, head spinning, mind blanking out. Words tumbled from your lips, but you barely heard them. He was going to destroy your sanity, and you held no complaint.

He pumped into you, rolling his hips in just the right way to have you desperately grabbing onto his shoulders, profanities and absolutely pornagraphic sounds echoing across the room. You were really glad for those soundproof walls right now.

Now Changbin was really going at it, huffing and groaning with each heavy pound into your core. He was all but shoving you into the couch cushions; the frustration you’d felt all day seemed to be rubbing off on him. He hissed through his teeth when your core clenched around him tightly, and his head fell forward, hot breaths sending shivers over your skin.

“Shit- you feel so fucking desperate. You’re always so needy for my cock, aren’t you? Just can’t get enough.” He growled into your ear, never ceasing his harsh thrusts into your throbbing core. He roughly grabbed your ass to yank you closer, the tip of his length abusing your g-spot with every following ram of his hips. The sound of skin on skin echoed off the studio walls, sounding so perfectly sinful that with the next snap of Changbin’s hips you let go of a whiny moan. Your eyes fluttered closed as sharp, shocking waves of pleasure destroyed your senses, and the boy responsible chuckled.

“You’re wrapped around my fingers, aren’t you? Dirty slut. My dirty slut.”

“Your- your dirty slut.” You managed- anything to make sure he didn’t stop. And you knew he liked to hear it from your own mouth- the proof was in the soft, muffled groan that spilled from his lips with another forceful thrust.

“So fucking good for me, too. God, you’re so gorgeous-”

He slipped his fingers down to finger your clit, and your hips immediately lifted from the cushions, desperately whining, “O-oh, god-”

He moved further to touch your entrance, feel the pulse of your pussy as it took in his cock with every thrust. He used the angle to press his palm against your clit and skillfully grind his hand against the sensitive bud, sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve in your body as you gasped, eyes squeezing tighter shut as you took it all in.

The rolling rhythm of his cock gliding along your walls. The press of his fingers to your entrance. The way his fucking palm drove up against your clit over and over again. Your body quivered under his touch, thighs shaking, the knot in your gut beginning to clench tighter and tighter. All the while Changbin kept his mouth by your ear, kissing up your neck and jawline, sucking slowly on your earlobe and nibbling at your skin.

Soon, it was almost unbearable. You felt like your whole body was on fire, burning white hot. Changbin never slowed, murmuring curses and moaning against your skin. The studio, previously cool, was practically simmering now.

With a particularly sharp thrust you choked out the words, “I- I need to come-”

“Me-me too-” Changbin grunted, squeezing your ass with his free hand. The other never stopped moving against your clit.

His cock was throbbing inside you, and you could feel your high approaching fast. You could barely breathe, but you managed to pant out, “Paint me white.”

Your body tensed at the same time he did, and a stream of heavy moans fell from both your lips as you tipped over the edge. Changbin continued to thrust into you, slower this time to milk both of your releases, before pulling out, dripping with your mixed juices.

He sighed as he lowered himself onto you, and you tiredly smiled, finding his hair with your fingers to thread between. He hummed softly in content, smiling gently back.

“That was fucking amazing.” You murmured, dragging your fingers across Changbin’s scalp, watching him snuggle deeper into your chest.

He started kissing your skin, and you could feel how he smiled while he did it. “And you did so fucking well, love.”

He lifted his head for a second, cocking a brow, and you felt that tingly feeling all over again with the way he was looking at you. Staring at you.

You’d nearly forgotten.

“Ready for more?” He whispered, rubbing your thighs. He was smirking again.

Fucking stamina-

But, of course, you held no complaint.

———

likes + reblogs are always appreciated!! and you’re looking for more skz content, check out my sfw account @starryychan~

thank you for reading!!🥀

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Your Assigned FBI Agent is a Secret Freak

Co-written by @katareyoudrilling and @just-here-for-the-moment... we don't know what happened here. Kat came up with a question and we just started bouncing ideas off each other - and this was the very fun and unhinged result. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Word count: 1100

Outline: What if Marcus Pike sees your search history? 

Warnings: Marcus overseeing you masturbate; references to BDSM pornography videos; a shameless fangirl letter to @whataperfectwasteoftime

(Only description of Reader is "wide eyes and full lips" otherwise no physical or racial descriptors)

JHFTM: Marcus sees a report. You’re under peripheral surveillance because you’ve accepted bank transfers from a known suspect (turns out it’s your brother, who unbeknownst to you is an art thief, and when he wires you money that he owes you, you get flagged by the FBI).

And when Marcus gets a report of your electronic activities (bank transactions, list of phone calls, web search history… *hold up) He sees the various benign and wild things you’ve been searching for - a bunch of random stuff: venomous spiders of South America; love poetry of Pablo Neruda; Japanese fountain pens; how much does a bag with $800,000 US weigh if the money was all in $20s and $100s?; US Army special forces recruiting; helicopter pilot training; BDSM collars… “Who is this chick?”

Katareyoudrilling:  He recognizes some of those BDSM sites… he has visited those.  His pants suddenly feel uncomfortably tight.  He shifts in his chair.  He’s a professional for for fuck’s sake.  Then he flips to your photo.  You’re the picture of innocence.  Wide eyes, full lips.  But there’s something about your smile… bright intelligence with a hint of a smirk.  He has a feeling you aren’t quite who you let on to be.  So, he decides in-person surveillance is required.

Later that night, he’s sitting outside your apartment in an FBI car.  He can see you in the window, typing away at your computer.  The only sounds coming over his audio feed are the clicks of your fingers on the keys.  You must live alone.  He is able to see your internet activity live on the laptop beside him.  You’re searching for BDSM sites again.  Your searches are making him uncomfortably hard.  He glances up at your window and notices you biting your bottom lip.  He quickly looks away before he does something incredibly stupid.  Then he notices a new site scroll across his screen…. Tumblr.

JHFTM: He watches you open a saved post in Tumblr, edit a short story… you move through the document too quickly for him to do much more than scan it as it moves across his laptop screen, but he catches flashes of a story about a woman in the Colombian jungle, trying to save a handsome DEA agent named Javier Peña from a venomous spider bite. Marcus watches as the screen scrolls by, and after Javier comes back to consciousness, he shows his gratitude by tying the woman up and spanking her until she comes.

Marcus is intrigued: he’s never really given much thought to online erotic stories, but he supposes it’s a harmless hobby. He screenshots your Tumblr username and makes a note to check out your whole profile later. You flick off your laptop and turn out the lights.  Marcus thinks you’re in bed for the night. Just as he’s about to take off, the live surveillance feed of your internet use on his laptop fires up again. It’s one of the BDSM websites from before, and this time over his audio feed he can hear a certain, familiar… buzzing? Marcus looks back through your window to see you sitting in bed with your laptop open in the dark, and he realizes what’s going on. Marcus looks down at his steering wheel. He shouldn’t watch, he shouldn’t listen. He should close his laptop and drive away. But the audio from your laptop comes in over his earpiece, and almost without his permission, his head turns toward the laptop sitting open on his passenger seat. 

The video shows an apartment entryway, a woman kneeling on the wood floor. She’s wearing a see-through negligee and a collar around her neck.  A tall man in a suit enters. The woman smiles, “Hello, sir.” 

The man cups her jaw and runs his thumb over her lower lip. “Hello, my love.” 

The scene cuts to a bedroom, where the woman is on her knees. The man has shed his suit jacket and tie, and rolled up his shirtsleeves. He’s asking the woman if she’s going to be his “good little doll” or if he needs to spank her harder. The edges of Marcus’s vision have gone red, and he almost doesn’t see the paddle in the man’s hand until it hits the woman’s rump with a THWACK!

Marcus looks back through your window, the sounds of your breathy pants and the buzzing of your vibrator grow louder through his earpiece, overtaking the pounding of his heart. Your face is tilted back, lips open in bliss. He knows he should NOT be watching you masturbate, so he yanks out his earpiece and puts the car in gear. He goes home to review the surveillance feed and your file.

He visits the BDSM sites you had viewed. He feels incredibly horny, and he takes care of himself and then feels incredibly guilty. Then he remembers to check out your Tumblr profile, and he makes a profile of his own, choosing “Art Freak With A Gun”. He sets his profile picture to the statue of David, sculpted in marble.  He starts reading your writing, and he’s surprised to find that it’s HOT. He’s never been into erotica before, but damn. And he realizes that your weird research history is just because you’re writing fiction and erotica. Marcus gets sad when he realizes that you’re not a suspect for his case any longer, and he’ll have to take you off surveillance.

Katareyoudrilling: He knows the case is over and he needs to close it, but it can wait one more day, right?  He keeps tabs on your internet activity during the day and notices you make a reservation at a restaurant for that evening and send an email to your brother with the info.  Now he has a reason to keep the case open.  He knows it’s against protocol, but would it be the worst thing if he ran surveillance on you again tonight?  He just hasn’t met many women with your… tastes.  He can’t pass up this chance.

Marcus arrives at the restaurant and chooses a table in a dark corner.  He watches you enter, alone, and take a seat at the bar.  He can’t see what you’re scrolling through on your phone, but he can’t help but wonder if you might be reading smut…out in public.  The thought has him painfully turned on.

He notices your frequent glances towards the door.  He checks his watch.  Your brother should have arrived by now.  You tap your fingers on the bar top, contemplating your next move.  Are you going to leave?  Are you going to stay for a drink on your own?  You glance around the crowded restaurant and your eyes lock with his.

He can’t stop the flirtatious smile that spreads slowly across his face.  You match his smile with your own.  What the hell?

[teddy06writes]

I feel there isnt enough sapnap x karl x quackity x reader, so can I request sap x karl x quackity x y/n where everone js tired at the end of the day, and despite having separate rooms, they all collapse together in one person’s bed

sapnap x karl x quackity x reader (HOLY SHIT THE POLY SHIP REQUESTSSSSSSS)

Trigger warnings: swearing

premise: vidcon pannels and meeting fans can be tiering, and maybe by the time the day is done you and all of your crushes collapse into bed together without realizing until the next morning  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

“Blep” talking

‘blep’ thinking

(y/n/n)- your nickname

(y/s/n)- your screen name

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

Ah vidcon, a content creators dream, or worse nightmare, or in your opinion, wild trip that lasted three days.

~~

It was your first time seeing anyone from the Dream SMP in a while, and your were practically buzzing with excitement by the time you were getting off the plane in California.

You fiddled with your carry on as you made your way towards baggage claim, grinning upon hearing a yell of “Oh my god is that (Y/n) from the internet!?”

You turned to see Alex standing just outside the gate he’d landed at, quickly you ran to hug him, stomach filling with butterflies at his touch. “Wait it’s Alex from the internet!”

You both laughed as you pulled away, starting back to baggage claim, “Are you excited for vidcon?” He asked.

“Yeah, what I’m not excited for is having to share a house with you idiot for a weekend.”

He scoffed, “What do you mean? It’s gonna be fun!”

“Oh yeah, the entire SMP together in one house, is such a good idea. It’s gonna be chaos!”

“That’s the fun part!”

“I like to sleep at night without being interrupted by random screaming and stuff.”  You argued.

“I’m sure there won’t be random screaming.”

“You seriously underestimate Tommy.” By now you had made it to baggage claim and began to look around for the right carousel.

You split up, planning on meeting back by the door to wait outside for Bad, who had arrived the day before and was picking people up, a few at a time.

After waiting at one carousel for a few minutes your suitcase came rolling out, but as you went to grab it someone else grabbed it from behind you, a familiar voice drawling, “Hey, hey.”

Grinning you turned to see Nick smiling back at you, “Hey yourself.”

He hugged you, and again your stomach filled with butterflies.

Pull away you smiled, “Come on, I think I left Alex just over there.”

Grabbing your suitcase in one hand, and his hand in the other you tugged him off toward where you’d left Alex, calling, “Alex look who I found!” as soon as he was in view.

Nick dropped your hand to grab Alex’s to pull him into a hug, and you found yourself fighting a grin at how red Alex's face turned.

“Bad texted me that he’s almost here!” You announced after checking your phone.

“Who else is he picking up?” Nick asked.

“Uhhh,” You pulled the messages back up, “Karl and Fundy, and then Wilbur is supposed to be getting another rental car and driving the rest of the Europeans when they get here, minus George cause apparently he also flew out early.”

You all headed out towards the pick up area, weaving through the crowds of people you felt Nick grab the back of your shirt, and when you looked back at him in question he muttered, “So I don’t lose you Idiot.”

All you could do was hope your face was clear of any blush as you smiled back.

You all ended up stood near the curb when a voice cut through the chatter, “Hey gu-uys!”

“Karl!” The three of you exclaimed as he ran through the crowd towards you.

Upon reaching you he some how managed to get his arms around all of you enough for a group hug, and you laughed, “Shouldn’t you be at the other gate?”

“Yeah, but I thought I saw you guys so I came over here, and I was right!”

Alex cocked an eyebrow, “What if it wasn’t us?”

“uhhh, I dunno, awkwardly ran at random people?”

You all laughed, and Nick scoffed, “You’re ridiculous.”

After a few more minutes of waiting, a car slowed near the curb, Fundy’s head practically falling from passenger window, “I’m looking for some youtubers, dumb American ones, you seen any?”

Bad smacked him, “they aren’t dumb, hey guys!”

You waved at them as the guys started loading their suitcases into the back of the car, and after Karl insisted he take yours as well, you slid into the back seat, “What’s the house situation like?”

“It looks like just about everyone will get there own room,” Bad reported, “But Tommy, Tubbo, Ranboo and Purpled are sharing the room with the bunk beds, because Clay designated it as the kids room.”

You snickered as Alex climbed into the back next to you, leaving Nick and Karl to take the spots in the middle row of the van.

“And obviously cause Kristen’s coming she and Phil are sharing, and then Eret said he, Puffy, and Niki would take the room with the double beds,” Fundy offered, “Which means the rest of us should get single rooms.”  

Alex elbowed you, “Told you wouldn’t get stuck with random screaming.” 

“Oh there's still time for that.”

~~

After getting to the airbnb and racing Fundy for one of the bigger rooms that was left (it was decided Phil and Kristen would get the master bedroom, and Clay had already claimed the biggest guest bedroom), you dropped your suitcase in one corner and brought your toiletries bag in the shared bathroom between your and Nick’s rooms, before flopping back onto your bed. 

No more than three minutes passed before Karl wandered into your room, flopping down next to you, “Ranboo and Sam are making nachos, and Dream and Nick found a foosball table in the garage, so a mini tournament is being organized if you want in.” 

“Foosball?” You questioned. 

“Yeah, it’s gonna be fun.” 

You allowed him to tug you up, and followed him down from the left hall of bedrooms, through the living room and to the connected garage where George was yelling over everyone to try and form teams. 

“Me and (Y/n) are a team!” Nick announced, grabbing your hand to pull you towards him. 

“Okay, that leaves Big Q and Karl as the last team for now! When other people show up they can join.” George announced. 

The rest of the day passed in a blur of foosball games, nacho’s nearly being spilled everywhere and the rest of the people arriving. 

~~

The next day was the first day of vidcon, and after getting dressed in some casual clothes you grabbed your laptop and headed out to the living room, mostly empty in the quiet house, with the exception of Tubbo, who was flipping through tv channels, and Phil, who was tinkering around in the kitchen. 

“So what’s your plan for the day?” Tubbo asked, finally having settled on a baking show. 

“Uhh, stress about the panel until it’s time for the panel, hang out, maybe find a pizza place, you?” 

“Me and Tommy are just gonna wander the convention center most of today cause I don’t have anything until the meet and greet tomorrow, then when he has to go I think me, Ranboo and Fundy might be going to mess with dream george and sapnap during the dream team panel. What’s you first panel about?” 

You glanced back down at your laptop, “It’s listed as ‘small creators with a big part’” 

From the kitchen you heard Phil chuckle.

“Oh cool.” Tubbo smiled, turning back to his show. 

You looked back down at your laptop, reading over the possible sample questions and discussion topics, you wanted to be mentally prepared for this.

At some point, as the rest of the house began to stir Alex shuffled out from the hallway and plopped down in between you and Tubbo on the couch, throwing his legs up in your lap.

“Good morning.”

He groaned, “Why is it so early?”

“It isn’t,” you laughed, flicking at his forehead, “Your just jet lagged.”

“Is there coffee here?”

As if on cue Nick, who had come over from the kitchen, offered him a mug, “Phil made a big ass pot of it.”

“Oh thank fuck!” He took the cup greatfully.

Nick smiled, handing you the other mug before going back for his own as Karl flounced into the room and plopped down on the other couch, “Good morning!” 

“Morning Karl!” You smiled. 

“oooo, are we watching cake wars?” He asked excitedly. 

Tubbo nodded and launched into an explanation of what had happened so far in the episode. 

Eventually everyone woke up and was gathered around in the living room and kitchen, drinking coffee and tea as they planned for the day. 

“Well if most of us have different things planned why don’t we just plan to meet back up here before dinner?” Niki suggested. 

A half asleep Wilbur nodded, “Sounds like a good idea.”

Techno snickered at his grogginess, elbowing him lightly, “I guess the first panel really will be sleepy boys inc.” 

If Wilbur had been fully awake he probably would’ve elbowed him back, but instead just muttered, “Shut up.” 

“Okay! So we meet back here for six yeah?” Bad asked. 

Everyone nodded, and disappeared back to their various places around the house to get ready. 

Back in your room you put your laptop away and got the last of your things ready for the panel, even though it wasn’t starting for a few hours.

“(Y/n)! Your panel’s at 12 right?” Nick half yelled through the open bathroom doors. 

“Yeah?”

“Okay cool, do you wanna come with me, Alex and Karl? Apparently Jimmy and all them just got in.” 

“Sure.”

You had talked to the famed, ‘Mr. Beast’, a few times, and had even been in one or two of his gaming videos, so before you knew it Alex was stealing the keys to one of the rental cars and you were off. 

“Yeah we just left the airbnb.” Karl, said into his phone. There was a pause before he said, “Oof, I’m glad I came out early then.” Another pause and then he laughed, “Nimrods. We can stop for food if you want?” 

A few minutes later he ended the call, leaning up between the front seats, “The gang requires food, we’re taking a pit stop to taco bell.” 

“Taco bell? At 9 in the morning?” Alex questioned. 

“Yeah apparently the nimrods forgot to get food before they left the airport, and now their stuck in traffic. We’re gonna meet them at the hotel.” 

You chuckled, “Sounds like a Jimmy move. Let me guess, they forgot because none of them slept and they took a red eye?” 

“What the fuck is a red eye?” 

You looked back at Nick, incredulous, “You don’t know what a red eye is? Oh my god you privileged fool!” 

Alex snorted, “It’s a really early flight Nick. Like, a you get to the airport for 11pm, and end up eating breakfast when you get to the other airport, flight.”

“Or, a get to the airport for anytime between 11pm and 4am and regret your life choices while waiting for your plane.” You offered. 

“In other words, hell.” Alex finished, pulling into a drive thru. 

“Yikes, why would anyone do that?” Nick asked. 

“It’s cheap.” Karl said. 

“Planes are less crowded, so are the airports.” Alex added. 

You smiled, “I do it for the feeling of a lineal space. There's no vibes like airports from 11pm to 4am.”

They all laughed, and Karl quickly unrolled his window to order an ungodly amount of food. 

~~

Unsurprisingly,  after that the day passed in a blur, the panel going pretty well, and then the impromptu meet and greet outside the meeting hall, trying to make it through the convention center with Clay and Nick without being mobbed, and then suddenly everyone was back at the airbnb getting ready for dinner. 

“(y/n) you bitch why are you taking so long in there!” Tommy yelled through the bathroom door. 

“I’m trying to fix my hair from when you threw water at me prick! There's five other bathrooms in this house go find another one!” You yelled back. 

Distantly you could hear Bad yell, “Language!” 

“Everyone is in the other bathrooms!” 

Giving up on your hair you set the brush back down and recapped the container of paste, turning and opening the door to your room, “Alright, fine.” 

“That wasn’t that hard was it?” Tommy asked, moving past you into the bathroom. 

“Don’t touch my stuff.” You instructed, striding out of the room and down the hall. 

Out in the living room Eret was humming as they cleaned up the last of the later Tommy had gotten everywhere as the rest of the group started to assemble. 

Once everyone was finally ready, and the final arguments of who would take which car, you were shoved into the back of one of the vans with Karl and Alex, making all of the anxiety that had dissipated after the panel came flooding back, especially when Nick, who was sitting on the bench seat in front of you, turned to join the conversation. 

The night was spent trying to keep blush off your face whenever Karl’s knuckles brushed yours, when Nick’s arm found it’s way around the back of your chair, or when your and Alex’s knees bumped. 

‘God’, you had thought, ‘this is like some romcom shit.’ 

After Tommy’s fail attempt to steal a set of car keys and try and drive home  -Phil smacked him upside the head, Niki snatched the keys from his hand, Kristen started to lecture him, all while the rest of you laughed your asses off- The bill was paid, and everyone piled back up into the cars, already starting to plan a movie night. 

Upon getting back to the airbnb, you headed back to your room to change back into the hoodie and comfortable pants you had been wearing earlier, heading back into the living room in time to steal Punz’s seat on the couch with Nick and Karl. 

When Alex squeezed into the spot between you and Nick, you could’ve sworn you saw Techno smirking and Puffy waggling her eyebrows toward you, how they found out about your stupid group crush you had no clue, but then Clay and Skeppy started to argue over what movie to put on. 

Tubbo ended up taking the remote from Clay, and from where he was sitting In front of one of the couches, tossed it over to Phil on the other side of the room, who said, “We’ll do a vote then!” 

A movie was selected democratically, some cheesy action movie began to play, and at some point you half turned, propping your legs up across the boys laps as Alex maintained a running commentary on the movie, just loud enough for you and Nick to hear, and Karl absently traced small shapes into your ankles. 

~~

The second day of vidcon was the most hectic, with you, Nick and Alex were going to watch the Mr. Beast panel Karl got to be a part of, plus both the dream smp panel and the meet and greet later in the day. 

You had woken up to Karl and Alex jumping on top of you, “Wake up! You’re gonna be late!” 

You groaned, struggling to shove them off, “What time is it?” 

“8:27.” Alex said, sliding off your bed. 

“Fuck,” You muttered, “Get off me, what the hell happened to my alarm?” 

“You left your phone in the other room, when it went off it woke us up.” Karl explained. 

“He means it woke him up and he felt the need to wake me up,” Alex complained as you sat up now free of the people laying on you, “Why the hell is your alarm set so early?” 

“It’s not early, I just wanted to be able to get ready without being in anyone’s way.” 

Karl nodded, “Makes sense.”

“C’mon, let’s give them time to get ready.” Alex grabbed Karl’s arm, half dragging him out of the room.

You quickly got ready, pulling on a nicer button down, plus a jacket that was one of the first from your new merch line.

You finished your hair, plugged in your phone and headed out to the kitchen where Fundy seemed to be attempting to make pancakes, dragging Karl into the process as well.

You sat down next to Alex and Ranboo, “How long do you think until they burn the house down?”

“I am not going to burn the house!” Fundy exclaimed.

You reached over and turned down the heat on the griddle, “Well you were gonna burn something.”

Ranboo snickered, “They aren’t wrong.”

“Shut up Ranboob!” Fundy retorted.

They continued to bicker as Tubbo emerged from up stairs, shoving Fundy out of the way to take over the griddle. “You’re all ridiculous.” He muttered.

“Yeah no shit.” You sighed.

“Language!” Bad yelled from the dining room.

“French!” Eret called back as she entered the kitchen, “Morning guys!”

“Morning!” Tuboo chirped, starting to flip some of the pancakes. 

“It’s panel day!” Tommy yelled, charging down the stairs, “Those best be chocolate chip Tubbo!” 

Karl held up the bag of chocolate chips he been scattering into some of the pancakes, and Tommy grinned, “Karl my man!” 

~~

Once breakfast was eaten and the dishes cleared everyone loaded back up into the cars to head to the convention center, everyone splitting up again, planning to meet back in the right area in time for the full panel. 

Karl headed off to meat with Jimmy and the guys as You Alex and Nick took spots in the audience. 

Once they took to the stage Nick leaned over and elbowed Alex, “Bet you 10 bucks when they open for questions you don’t go up just to flirt with Karl.” 

Alex glared at him, “10 bucks isn’t worth it.” 

You held back a laugh, “I’d throw in another 20.” 

Alex considered this with a sigh, “Deal, but only if we get milkshakes later.” 

You and Nick agreed, and soon enough when they opened up for audience questions Alex started to stand up, but immediately sat back down blushing slightly, “No.” 

“Damn.” Nick sighed. “We’re still getting milkshakes.” 

Once the Mr. Beast panel had ended you all went to meet up with Karl and head off to the dream smp panel. 

2 o'clock rolled around and the panel moderator began to announce everyone, one by one, and you managed to force down your anxiety, taking your place on the stage between Karl and Nick when the mod called, “(y/s/n), one of the first people to actually join the dream smp.” 

You sat down, smiling at the audience and quickly sneaking out your phone to take a quick video of your friends and then a pan of the crowd to put on twitter later.

Once everyone was on stage the moderator looked up and down the long table, “Wow, there are a lot of people on stage right now, is this everyone from the server?” 

Clay nodded, “Just about, we have a few others, Alyssa, Callahan, Ponk and Antfrost, who had other stuff going on, but for the most part, this is everyone from the server.” 

“This is honestly incredible, how, how are you guys all feeling about being here? I know this is the first Dream SMP panel, but you guys have been to vidcon before right?” 

“Most of us,” George laughed, “I think the only one who hasn’t is (y/s/n), there first ever panel was yesterday.” 

The mod looked over at you, “So, how does it feel to be at your first vidcon?” 

You laughed nervously, “Well, I mean, I’ve been to vid con before, but I was always out there in the audience, it’s- it’s pretty nerve wracking to be up here.” 

The topic shifted and after that things seemed to move more quickly. 

In the blink of an eye the first hour and a half was spent and people from the audience began to ask questions. 

“Wilbur, as the main writer for roleplaying on the server is it hard to keep track of character specifics and story arcs or is it all just written in with the scripts?”

Someone asked.Wilbur hummed, “Well I guess in part it’s written in the scripts, but I think I should turn this question over to (y/s/n), they’ll have a more interesting answer.”

Everyone turned to you. 

“Well, in my mind it isn’t all that hard, but I am literally the kid who memorized long monologues for fun.” You chuckled, “Once the first revolution arc started and the server really started to turn to roleplaying I started a google doc that now gets updated constantly. I have running tabs on current arcs, details on arcs that have ended and then there's detailed character descriptions. 

“I don’t necessarily write down bits to add while I’m streaming or anything, but most of the time it has to be the middle of the night or I won’t file anything correctly.”

Nick chuckled, “I have seen the document, it is terrifying.” 

“Didn’t someone open it to see you updating in the middle of the night once?” Ranboo asked. 

Alex nodded, “Yeah that was me, it was very traumatic, like, I blinked, and then there was another fifty words on the page.” 

You dropped your head in your hands, “It was the night after the whole election thing! Techno joined the server and then I had to add a whole ‘nother character profile, and he and his stupid English major were making things complicated!” 

“Listen man, I just wanted to make sure I had a backstory that fit into the story line, ‘s not my fault when Wilbur lets Dream have partial control of thing the storyline ends up non cohesive.” 

People laughed, and the topic was changed with the next question.

~~

Two and a half hours later, an extra hour after the panel was supposed to end, (there was just so many extra questions), you headed off stage, and were all rushed across the center for the meet and greet, which had been pushed back in time with the panel.

You felt bad for making the fans wait, but the organizers assured you that it was fine, most of the fans had been at the panel anyway.

In the big open hall the orginizors spilt everyone up into groups of threes and fours, the way fans could move down the line and see everyone.

Inevitably you ended up with Karl, Nick and Alex, at the end of the long sections of people.

“Holy shit man, how is it already 6?” Alex asked.

“Who knows.” Nick muttered glancing down at his phone.

“Dude this is supposed to go for like three hours too.” You complained, rocking up on your heals to look down the line, seeing the first groups of people starting to move past Tommy, Tubbo and Fundy.

“We’ll be fine! It’s always fun to meet fans!” Karl said, though he did look slightly wary.

After another three hours of talking to fans, signing things, and taking pictures the last group of people finally made it to your section.

“Hey! They saved the coolest for last!” The boy exclaimed.

“Hell yeah they did!” Alex half yelled back, some how still managing to keep up the enthusiasm.

“Here, let’s get you guys all in a picture together!” His mother said, motioning for you to all stand together. You slung an arm around the kids shoulder, smiling at the camera. “

“Okay serious question time, which one of us is the best?”

“Uhh,” the boy looked from person to person, “probably you (y/s/n), your contents really cool but your under rated.”

You grinned, offering him a fist bump, “ha! See that’s the third person in the last hour!”

Karl scoffed, “but I got like six people over all.”

“I only got five.” Alex pouted.

You rolled your eyes as the boy asked, “So if you guys are in a poly relationship on the server does it create problems with your friendship in real life?”

You all froze, except for Nick who somehow seemed to know this was coming, “Well, in game and out of game relationships are different, sure you can ship all you want, but that doesn’t mean stuff actually happens in real life.”

The kid nodded, “Cool, hey I saw your stream like, during quesrentine, just a question, how many people have tried to fight you today?”

You laughed, “at least 15 took pictures with him squared up.”

A few minutes more and the kid was gone, being ushered away by his mom, and you glanced at your phone, “holy shit it’s already 9:15.”

“Where did the time go?” Kale asked incredulous.

~~

After meeting back up with the rest of the group you all headed off to terrorize a McDonald’s, drawing a lot of attention from random fans as you all scarfed down food.

By the time you got back to the Airbnb it was nearly 11pm and everyone was exhausted.

After quickly getting ready for bed you a collapsed.

~~

The next morning you woke up, and for a moment worth your eyes still closed you were perfectly content with the warmth pressed agasint you.

Then you came fully too, realizing that, no, you weren’t fully swaddled in your comforter, you were laying in a bed with other people.

Opening your eyes you blinked away sleep, looking down, confused to see Alex asleep with his head on your chest.

Turning your head you saw that it was Nick on your other side an arm wrapped around you both.

Karl was half sprawled across all of you, similarly to the airport, as if he could hold all of you at once. You sat in shock for several moments before realizing you were in fact, trapped in bed.

Alex’s fingers were tangled with yours, Nicks nose was pressed into your neck, and you could have sworn Karl shifted in his sleep, as if to get closer to you.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘might as well make the most of it.’ As settled back down to fall back asleep.

~~

Once you had all woke again, no one spoke as they headed back to there own rooms, and your crossed back through the bathroom form Nicks.

~~

The rest of the day past, still no one speaking about it, and that night you found yourself laying in your own bed, wondering why it felt so wrong.

There was muffled whispers from Nicks room, and you quietly got up, moving into the bathroom to hear better.

Unfortunately for you Nicks door to the bathroom was still open, so you couldn’t eavesdrop as planned.

Karl and Alex were both sat on the bed next to each other as Nick paced. “What’s going on?” You asked quietly

“Would- would it be weird if we cuddled again?” Alex asked hesitantly.

“We were debating asking you.” Karl admitted.

Nick nodded, “You don’t have to, it’s just- we-“

Quietly you crossed the room, climbing into the bed instead of answering the question outright.

~~

“Is- I- am I stupid, or is this something?” Alex whispered.

Vidcon had ended and even with the long weekend everyone was staying in California the time had gone all to fast.

You, Alex, Karl and Nick had continued to cuddle every night, still not talking about it during the day.

“Do you think it could be?” Was your only response, continuing to card your fingers through Karl’s hair.

“It seems like it already is.” Nick said.

Karl yawned, “I think I’d like it to be.You nodded,

“me too.”

“Me too.” Nick agreed.

Alex smiled, “I guess it’s decided then.”

The dark room was quiet another moment before you snickered, “It’s cannon irl now guys. What will the fans think?”

[seijorhi]

nostos.

well it’s not exactly monster fucking but um... here there be monsters.

Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader

TW implied non-con, nsfw-ish, blood, gore, minor character death, animal death, um somebody gets munched... 

Every good writer needs peace and quiet. Fresh air and a change of scenery.

You’re not running away, it’s more of a… tactical retreat. Two weeks disconnected from well meaning friends, pushy family members and your eternally irritating editor, with nothing but the beautiful, sprawling forests to keep you company.

The mountains are familiar, if isolating, you think, leaning against the porch railing with a warm mug in hand as the breeze picks up and the tall maple and birch trees rustle in response. The leaves are turning vibrant reds and gold with the falling temperatures and even in the eerie quiet of the cold morning, you can’t deny that it’s breathtaking. 

It reminds you of your childhood, the countless vacations you’d spent here with your family, always in autumn, always in time to watch the leaves change before the first snows of winter set in. Fond memories of running through the trees chasing after cute little bunnies, giggling even when you tripped up and scraped your knees. There was something mystical about the forest back then, something special. But it’s been years since you’ve been here last, and the first time you’ve ever come alone.

And yet it feels different somehow, colder despite the nostalgia. You’re no longer a child, looking at the world through innocent, wondrous eyes. The forest is just a forest. 

Of course, you weren’t an idiot; disappearing off the grid was one thing. Disappearing off the grid without anybody knowing where you were going was another entirely. They’d been surprisingly supportive of the plan – until you told them where it was you were planning on running off to.

‘Why go back to the mountain, honey?’ your mother had asked, her smile wavering and an odd tightness in her eyes. ‘Why not go to the coast instead? Or spend some time in the city?’

But this isn’t a fun little vacation. You don’t want to be distracted by beaches and crowds, you need space to finish your book and time to work through your mess of an emotional state without any interruptions. You want to be untraceable, at least for a week or two.

God knows the last thing you need right now is your ex tracking you down to try and apologise again.

Part of you had thought – somewhat naively, perhaps – that by coming back you’d spark… something. Your memories of the mountains are full of warmth and happiness, but as you stare out into the wilderness, all you feel is a cool chill that runs down your spine and the goosebumps that prickle at your skin. 

Setting your now empty mug down, you pull tighter at the thick knit cardigan draped over your shoulders. Enough reminiscing, your manuscript awaits.

—

The mountain’s too quiet. You don’t notice it so much during the day, the sound of music softly pouring from your laptop and the gentle clacking of keys as you type enough to distract you  from the eerie stillness outside the cabin. Even at night, you’re preoccupied with dinner, and then curled up on the couch with a warm throw rug watching reruns of your favourite shows on Netflix.

It’s only when you lie down, burrowed into the blankets to try and sleep that you notice just how silent the forest at your doorstep truly is. At first you think it’s simply being away from the hustle and bustle of home. There’s no cars driving past, or the sound of neighbours floating through your open windows, there’s not even the distant hooting of owls or dogs barking.

But it’s more than just quiet. There’s nothing. Even the trees seem to still once the sun falls beneath the horizon. And it shouldn't bother you, shouldn’t unsettle you, and yet…

The first few nights, you don’t sleep well. Tossing and turning in bed. When you do sleep, your dreams are plagued with unpleasant things. Not nightmares as such, but an uneasiness that bleeds into otherwise pleasant thoughts. On the fourth night you wake, gasping for air. Whatever dream you’d been in the grips of fades like smoke, and as you draw in another shuddering breath your throat itches and burns.

Water. You need water. 

You don’t switch on the lights as you fumble your way down to the kitchen, trying to preserve what little remnants of sleep are still in your system. Even with the moon almost full and the night sky clear, the canopy shrouds it. 

And it’s in that darkness, as your eyes flicker up from the faucet, that you see it for the first time.

A shape, huge and looming, silk shadow against black. 

For a moment, as your heart hammers against your ribs, a chill creeping down your spine, you don’t dare trust your eyes. Maybe you’re asleep still, dreaming, or your mind’s playing tricks on you, because there’s nothing that should be lurking in the woods outside of your window that size.

Two golden, cat-like eyes peer back at you.

They’re still there when you race to flick on the lights, unblinking, curious as you skitter backwards, hand over your racing heart.

You’re tired, emotionally drained and this–

This is nothing more than a figment of an overactive imagination, a child creating monsters from the shadows in their bedroom. Yet even as you run back to the safety of the bedroom, yank the curtains shut and huddle under the meagre warmth your blankets afford you, squeezing your eyes shut, you feel it out there still, watching.

And in the stillness of the mountains outside, you swear you hear footsteps.

—

You wake to fresh snow, too early in the year, even at these altitudes. It dusts the ground, covering the mossy paths in glittering white, clings to the branches of the trees – the red leaves looking like droplets of blood scattered across a grey sky. The snow will undoubtedly melt as the sun rises, turn to slush and mix with the dirt, but for now it’s a thing of beauty.

For a moment, you allow yourself to forget how tired you are, how unsettled, venturing out from the cabin with wide, excitable eyes. It never used to snow when you were here as a kid, and while you get the occasional snowfall back home, it’s nothing like–

You stop dead in your tracks. 

There’s two human footprints imprinted on the snow – only two – right outside your bedroom window, crisp and clean, as if they’d been left just moments before.

—

Your mother sounds worried when you call her. Of course, you don’t tell her about the lone footprints at your window, or the creepy pair of eyes you’d seen through the dark, you know how that sounds. You’re not crazy, and even if some part of you truly believed what you’d seen, your mom is the last person you’d admit it to.

Once upon a time, when you were little, she’d indulged in stories of fairies and spirits, but that was a long time ago. Now she turns up her nose and sneers at the myths and legends that your grandma still spouts, dismissing them with a scoff.

It’s not the kind of thing well-adjusted adults talk about in polite conversation.

She’s a good woman, but you can’t tell her this. 

And you’re not even sure you’re entirely sold on it either. The eyes could have been from a wild animal – big cats might be rare in Japan, but they do exist here. You were half asleep (half terrified) when you had seen them, you don’t want to make a fuss over nothing. The footprints are less easy to explain away. If there’d been tracks leading away, you could convince yourself that it was a lost hiker and nothing more.

But there weren’t any tracks leading away; just the two footprints. And what kind of hiker doesn’t wear shoes in weather like this? It’s possible that this is some kind of prank, a mean spirited trick designed to unsettle you – a job well done, by the way – but you can’t quite bring yourself to believe that either. 

In any case, you’re hardly going to admit over the phone that you’re freaking out over some footprints in the snow. God knows she’s already worried enough about your mental state, has been ever since the breakup, and you’re not going to give her any more ammunition. 

But perhaps there is something to that maternal instinct, because despite your best efforts to reassure her that you’re doing just fine, that your novel’s going great and you’re so glad you came out here, she still sounds entirely unconvinced.

“Honey, you know you can tell me if something’s wrong,” she tells you, her voice strangely hesitant. “You don’t sound yourself, are you sure everything’s okay?”

You don’t know why you called her at all. You always have been a shitty liar, and she’s always been able to see right through you. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Honestly the fresh air’s doing me good,” you tell her. “It’s weirdly quiet here though, I’m not used to it,” you laugh, and even to your ears it sounds hollow and fake.

There’s a heavy pause on the other end of the line, and if you close your eyes you can almost picture it, your mom leaning against the kitchen counter, teeth worrying into her bottom lip–

“I just don’t like you out there all by yourself.”

Relax, what’s the worst that could happen?

The words almost, almost slip out, an instinctive reaction to a mother’s well meaning but overbearing concern. But it feels like tempting fate, and whether or not you’re fully convinced that there is something strange happening, you’re not that bold. Instead you begin to tell her (again) that everything’s fine when she suddenly speaks again.

“Bad things happen in those mountains. Just… just promise me you’ll be safe.”

Abruptly, the line goes dead. 

Pulling the phone from your ear, you glance down at the illuminated screen, only to frown when you see the little ‘SOS Only’ flashing in the top corner. Huh, you’d had a few bars when you’d started the call, but… 

The weather’s gotta be messing with your signal. Stranger things have happened, right?

Shaking your head you resolve to give her a call tomorrow. And yet, even as you try to put her parting words from your mind and throw yourself back into your writing, you can’t help but feel that familiar sense of cloying unease seeping through your skin once more. 

What the hell had she meant, ‘bad things happen in those mountains’?

—

A good night’s sleep can do you wonders. 

Well, theoretically speaking. You can’t remember the last actual decent sleep you’d had, but regardless, the point stands. All you need is an uninterrupted eight or nine hours, and this… paranoia will go away. Things’ll be clearer in the morning, so long as you sleep.

The mantra doesn’t help you any, of course. 

You don’t need to peer through the window to feel those watchful eyes staring. And maybe it would be easier to ignore the prickling sensation at the nape of your neck if it weren’t for the noises.

Music isn’t loud enough to drown out the sound of the mournful wails, like a wounded animal crying out in pain. It’s incessant, inescapable, reverberating inside of your eardrums until it’s all you can focus on.

It’s instinctual, you think, the urge to creep from your bed and try to find the creature making that sound and help it. But even as your feet touch the cool floorboards, your gut clenches, hackles rising. Something deep inside of you warns you from leaving the safety of the cabin.

Whatever creature is making those noises, it’s not calling for help.

You don’t feel like you’ve slept at all, but you must have because at a certain point in the morning you blink your eyes awake, exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.

And this time it’s not snow that greets you, but the mangled remains of a doe ripped apart on your porch. Deep, jagged gouge marks run along its flank, organs spilling from the cuts and there’s little left of its neck, the whole thing torn out with teeth. Yet for the gruesome injuries, the only blood you find is congealed, pooled beneath the poor creature.

Whatever happened to it, it didn’t happen here. The knowledge doesn’t soothe you like it should – the park ranger you spoke to on the phone mentioned that while it’s rare, sometimes bears venture a little too close to buildings, though he sounds doubtful even as he says it.

He sounds even less interested when you tell him this doesn’t look like a bear attack, but promises they’ll send someone down in the next few days to check everything out. In the meantime, he suggests, it’s best to stay indoors. 

Yeah, not gonna be an issue.

And so with no feasible way of moving it, you’re left with the butchered corpse of a doe just outside your front door. And the thing that bothers you isn’t so much the body, though you still can’t look at it without wanting to throw up, but the fact that it was just… left there.

Not eaten. No, aside from the missing throat, the deer’s all there. Ripped apart with its guts spilling out, but otherwise untouched. Growing up you had a cat, the sweetest little thing, but every once in a while she would get out of a night, find some poor little creature to torment and without fail, she’d bring it back home, leaving it half dead on the doorstep like a gift.

‘See what a good hunter I am?’ she seemed to say, smugly sauntering back inside. 

It wasn’t about food. It wasn’t hunger that drove her, but instinct. As you stare out the window at the doe, at the milky white emptiness of dead eyes, you wonder whether that’s the same here. There’s no tracks in the dirt, no blood smeared across the ground – it wasn’t dragged here. No animal could’ve done this. 

A gift? 

Or perhaps something less benevolent. A threat. You’ve crossed into territory you don’t belong and the deer, cruelly ripped apart and left to bleed out on your doorstep is a line in the sand.

Either way, as tears fill your eyes, a sob tugging free from your chest, you realise that it was a mistake to come here. You don’t know whether you trust your eyes and your ears anymore, but there is something deep inside of you that tolls like a warning bell and as much as you’d like to bury your head in the sand and pretend there’s nothing wrong here, you can’t.

Bad things happen in those mountains.

You need to leave.

The next ferry to the mainland doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning, but it’ll have to do. Once you stop shaking and calm down enough to carry a conversation, you call the local cab company to arrange a pick-up first thing.

You can survive one more night, you just need to throw yourself back into your writing… if you can only just ignore that sense of foreboding prickling at the back of your neck.

—

There’s a boy running through the trees, giggling as he glances back at you. His hand’s outstretched, wrapped ‘round yours tugging you along as he laughs at you to hurry up.

It’s late, the sun dipping below the horizon, but you don’t wanna go back just yet.

You’re having fun, playing in the forest. And the light is golden, filtering in through the pretty red leaves, your sides burn a little from all the chasing and laughter but it’s a good kind of ache. You don’t want today to end.

His name is Kohsuke, you remember, and he lives down in the village by the valley. He’s only one year older than you, and you’d follow him anywhere. 

You think you might be a little in love with him.

‘C’mon, hurry up! It’s only a little further!’ he calls, and you nod, scrambling over the fallen trunk of an oak tree. There’s old spirits who live in this forest, he’d told you, and today you’re finally gonna see one.

It’s dark now. Cold too. You’re tired and hungry and you kinda want to go home, but Kohsuke won’t let you. ‘Just a little longer! Don’t you wanna see them?’

You do. Of course you do. It’s just that you’re starting to get a funny feeling in your stomach… Can he hear the footsteps too? Is somebody following you?

There’s a voice in your ear, a soft, silky purr that makes a shiver roll down your spine, but you can’t make sense of the words, they’re not in any language you understand. You don’t tell Kohsuke – he can’t hear it, otherwise he would have said something. You just clutch his hand tighter, skipping closer.

‘W-we should go back, Koh,’ you murmur, wincing when it comes out in a childish whine. ‘We’re gonna get in trouble.’

You aren’t supposed to stay out playing after dark, he knows it as well as you do. ‘You trust me, don’t you? Stop being such a chicken!’ he snickers as your cheeks heat.

The voice at your ear growls, low and threatening. You need to go back, now.

You blink, and the scene changes.

You’re curled up on the forest floor, hands covering your eyes. Somebody’s screaming – Kohsuke – crying out your name through ragged sobs, pleading–

There’s a crunch, a ripping sound, a wetness sprayed across your cheek. 

Kohsuke’s not screaming anymore.

Something warm and heavy touches your head, drags through the locks of your hair and you just huddle tighter, eyes squeezed shut, shaking like a leaf as more tears spill. You don’t wanna die here. 

The crunching sounds continue, and you keep your eyes tightly shut. It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t hurt you if you don’t look. 

It can’t–

A loud knocking jerks you back to consciousness, your body jolting upright, almost swiping your laptop off the table as you try and gather your bearings. Right, you’d been working on your novel, sitting up at the kitchen table, you must have dozed off… A quick glance out the window tells you that you must have been out of it for a while – the late afternoon shadows are starting to creep in, the sky a golden orange. 

What the hell was that dream?!

“Hello? Uh, anybody home?” a masculine voice calls, another loud knock sounding. “We got a call about a wild animal attacking deer…”

Oh, you think, trying to shake yourself out of your stupor, the wildlife people, yeah. You feel a little nauseous, feverish and trembling, though maybe that’s just the result of your erratic heartbeat. 

Swallowing down the bile in your throat, you turn your attention to the door. Truly you hadn’t actually expected that they’d send anybody out to investigate, much less that they’d arrive before you left, but you can hardly turn him away now.

Especially not when there’s a freshly butchered deer corpse lying only a few feet away from your front door. Quickly, you run a hand over your hair, taking a moment to try and collect yourself before you answer.

It doesn’t work – there’s a knot in your throat and for every step you take towards the door it feels like your legs are gonna give out from under you. You move in a daze to unlock the door, only just remembering to school your features into an expression slightly less alarming as it swings open. 

A ranger, tall with a shock of black, messy hair that reminds you oddly of a rooster greets you with an easy grin. “Oh good, I was starting to think nobody was home. You the one that called?”

Distantly, you nod, fingers clutching at the edge of the doorframe. The ranger glances over at the remains of the deer, still lying in a pool of half dried blood, studying it for a moment, hazel eyes sweeping over the deep gashes in its side. You can’t bear to follow his gaze, you’re not sure you can look at that thing again without throwing up. 

He whistles lowly, shaking his head, “Well you don’t see that every day,” he laughs.

Your eyes snap to his, narrowing slightly. It’s not his fault, you know that, but you can’t help the flicker of irritation that sparks at the cavalier attitude. This is just his job, you get it, but you don’t exactly feel like laughing right now. 

“You still think a bear did this?” you retort, the words coming out a little sharper than intended. 

But the ranger takes it in stride, shrugging as his smirk widens. “A bear, huh?” Amusement glitters in his eyes, sharp and mocking. “Why don’t I come inside and you can tell me all about it?” he offers, stepping closer towards you. 

And there’s no reason for your heart to skitter, your blood running cold as he looms over you in the doorway, still wearing that stupid, irritating smirk. There’s no reason for your insides to clench either, or for the tiny, jerky step backwards you take, your body moving of its own accord.

The ranger pauses, head tilting to the side as he stares at you.

Really stares, like he’s waiting for something. And as discomfited as you are (and as much of an asshole as this guy is), a weary apology is halfway to your tongue when he shifts slightly, propping an arm up against the door – the last, dying rays of light catching his face. 

It’s just for a second.

A heartbeat.

But long enough for you to watch those hazel eyes shift to gold, pupils elongating into slits. 

You stumble backwards, breath coming in a short, ragged gasp as your eyes widen into saucers. “What are you?”

The ranger before you chuckles and you catch a glimpse of his teeth; pearly white and glinting, sharper than they had been only moments ago. “Why don’t you let me in and find out for yourself, kitten?”

You shake your head, retreating further into the cabin, heart pounding. 

“No? You don’t like this body, is that it?” he asks, a cruel edge to his smirk as he takes a half step backwards and slowly spreads his arms. “Something more familiar, then.”

And you don’t think there’s any room left in your heart for more fear, your stomach already twisting in sickening knots, but you blink and standing right there in front of you is Kohsuke.

It’s a punch in the guts, a knife slipped between your ribs, yanked ruthlessly through your still beating heart. He’s beaming up at you, those same adorable dimples, the same ridiculous bowl cut, bleeding youthful innocence. “How about now?” he asks, holding out his hand and wriggling his fingers like he expects you to take it. “You’ll let me inside now, right?”

A strangled noise escapes you as you fall to your knees. Tears fill your eyes, blurring your vision – you blink them away but more take their place. 

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks, and you wail in response.

It’s too much. You shake your head, hugging yourself tightly, as if your arms are the only thing keeping you from falling apart entirely. 

He calls your name – not in Kohsuke’s childish lilt, but that deep, ancient purr that makes the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “Let me in.”

“Go away,” you gasp through tears. “Please– please go away.”

The creature shifts again, the dark haired ranger back in Kohsuke’s place. He eyes you, those unnatural gold irises watching with utter enthralment as you sob pathetically on the floor, still pleading – though you know it’ll do you no good – for him to leave. 

“Last chance, kitten. Let me in, or I’ll make you come out.”

He – it – doesn’t sound nearly as put out by the prospect as it should be. 

And you don’t know why giving permission matters, all you know, all you care about, is that it’s keeping that thing at bay for now. It can’t come inside and so long as you don’t leave the safety of the cabin, it can’t hurt you. The words are nothing but an empty threat.

Right?

You shake your head, defiant even as your voice hitches and trembles, “No.”

“Stubborn little thing,” the creature croons, the smirk on its face widening until the visage no longer resembles anything human – mouth splitting its face in two, rows of long, sharp teeth revealed. “So be it.”

A low growl resonates in its chest, and you can only watch, petrified, as thin, vein-like black marks begin to appear over pale skin, growing thicker, cracking as shadow curls from underneath. The creature itself starts to grow too, limbs elongating as muscles ripple and swell, claws bursting forth in place of fingernails, shoulders broadening – until it’s towering over you, wreathed in thick shadow, grinning with that terrifying mouth. 

This is the thing you’d glimpsed that first night. A creature ripped from nightmares and primal fears, strong enough to tear you apart with a single hand. That’s what it’d done to Kohsuke, to the doe, what it’d do to you if you gave it half a chance.

“You wanna play, kitten?” it asks, head tilting to the side. 

Slowly, it backs away from the door, keeping its gaze fixed firmly on you. For a moment, you think that it’s going to disappear back into the forest, or plant itself by your window to watch for another night, waiting you out till dawn, but instead it stops by the old oak that overhangs the porch and stills entirely, simply… waiting.

“Let’s play.”

Abruptly, the oak beside it bursts into flames. It takes only a heartbeat for the entire thing to be engulfed, red and orange flames licking along the trunk, the gnarled, spindly branches, even the leaves are alight, burning away into ash and floating off in the breeze. The heat from one tree alone is searing, the crackle of burning wood and your own horrified, shuddering breath the only sounds in the night.

It snowed only a few nights before, but the fire spreads with unnatural ease, flames racing across the canopy, embers lighting up the undergrowth, and in the space of a few seconds there’s an inferno raging through the forest before you. And through the smoke and the red, burning haze, the creature watches, smirking.

The heat from the wildfire sears painfully at your skin, the air around you suddenly thick with smoke, stinging your eyes, choking your lungs, and yet you can’t seem to tear yourself away. It’s like a dream, a nightmare, some kind of… hellscape.

And for a moment you forget that there was a purpose to this, too lost staring in mute horror as the forest you’d played in as a child burns–

At least until a single leaf from the oak tree, edges curling as it’s consumed by flames, falls, carried by the breeze and lands on the wooden railing of the porch. With a soft whoosh, the old wooden beam catches fire, and with your chest heaving, panicked breaths falling from parted lips, you rise to your feet as flames spread, the fire eating everything in its path until the entire porch is alight, burning.

Run. 

You don’t know if the voice in your head is yours or not, you don’t have time to care. You scramble for the back door, throwing it open, and you run.

Run until your lungs burn, til’ your bare feet are scratched and bleeding, run, pushed forward by the sweltering heat at your back, the chilling crackle of laughter that follows. You run through tears, through pain and air so thick with smoke that it hurts to breathe.

And you know the creature’s giving chase, you know that you won’t – can’t – outrun it, nor the inferno that blazes around you. You know that it’s futile, that you’re probably running to your death, but that’s human, isn’t it?

To run when you’re scared?

The sky’s awash with a hazy red glow when it catches you, throwing you to the ground, and still you try to crawl. Desperate, choking on broken pleas and sobs, nails raking through the dirt as you try to pull yourself forward. 

And when your pants are ripped from your legs, a puff of warm air ghosting over the nape of your neck as you’re shoved back down, those long, black arms settling either side of you, caging you in – you know that you’ve lost.

“Mine,” the creature growls, and you barely have time to scream before its cock shoves into you with one brutal, merciless thrust. “Mine.”

[spencersawkward]

*house call // wes (Dollface)*

ssummary: when her pet cat gives her a scare, Reader decides to call the vet to make sure everything is going to be okay. 

pairing: Fem!Reader x Wes

word count: 5.4k

content warnings: discussion of cannabis/cannabis consumption, unprotected penetrative sex, use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), SoftDom!Wes, breeding kink, creampie. 

request: can you do a wes smutty one shot if you’re down?! 

A/N: to be fair, i haven’t watched Dollface in a minute, but i’m obsessed with the domestic vibes that Matthew gives off when he plays Wes and i just thought it would be super cute. anyway, this was super fun also i wanna fuck Wes. ok enjoy!

masterlist

the absolute best part of your day is when the package arrives at your doorstep. you impulse-purchased it about two weeks ago while you were hanging out with one of your close friends, and you've been looking forward to trying it every day since. 

or, really, for your cat to try it. 

you've read reviews and been extremely diligent to make sure the stuff is completely safe, and everything you've seen or read was singing the praises of this cat weed (which isn't actually cannabis at all, but catnip made to look like it).

as you take the cardboard box to the kitchen table and pry open the top with the help of a Swiss army knife, you're grinning. Klimt comes scampering into the room to see what all the fuss is about, sitting at your feet with his tail curled around his legs. 

"no peeking." you scold him gently. your kitten, the friendliest little rescue tabby around, simply stares blankly back. when you remove the wrapping from the glass jar and stare at it up close, you're impressed by how realistic it looks. the label shows cat-friendly ingredients only, but you unscrew the top and get a whiff of catnip. 

Klimt begins to weave in between your legs, nudging them affectionately and beginning to purr. you giggle and bend down to give him a few pets. his nose twitches; he tries to sniff at the foreign object, but you put it back on the table. 

"don't be greedy, babe." you scratch between his pointed ears and he lets out a whiny meow. 

it's about his dinner time, and you were hoping to give him his treat tonight after he finishes his dry food. so you make yourself something simple with the leftovers in your fridge and do some more work on your laptop while you two eat together. 

you've had Klimt for a while, now. you call him a kitten even though he's a full-grown cat-- he's just as playful and enthusiastic as any newborn. his eyes are the color of meadow grass, and his nose is scattered with tiny freckles. it makes him look like he's just come from digging around the backyard, but it really just adds to his charm. 

not to mention his ceaselessly social tendencies: Klimt is always around when your friends come over, worming his way in between you or sitting on one of the free chair cushions to listen. you wonder if he knows what you're saying sometimes, because when you talk about the embarrassing things you've done that day or the failed interactions you've had, he always lifts his head to give you something of a judgmental stare. 

once you've settled down for the evening and turned on the TV, you decide that now is the time. Klimt is aimlessly poking at a few of his toys. he bats at a fake mouse between his paws.

"kitten," you click your tongue and get up to grab the jar. "are you ready to try this stuff?" 

as if he's going to answer. he hears your footsteps coming back his way and watches patiently. it's only when you pour out a little bit in front of him that he gets curious about the stuff. you admire his movements as he bends down and examines. 

although you keep an eye on him while watching your show, you don't notice much of a change in him. he starts to roll about on the floor, which is to be expected, but it's only when he starts to chase around his fake mouse that things get interesting. 

you laugh as Klimt goes nuts, jumping back and attacking the thing like he's ready to come in for the kill. it's really funny, but you're interrupted by your phone buzzing. you told your friend that you were doing this tonight. 

"hi!" you answer the FaceTime call right away. 

"how is he?" you can hear the smile in Andi's voice as you turn the camera. 

"he's loving it." 

"oh my god," she laughs. Klimt arches his back, leaping so highly in the air, you raise your eyebrows. "I wonder how long it'll last." she muses. 

"I'm guessing we'll get about an hour more of this before he passes out for the next two days." you joke. he gets strong bursts of energy usually, but they only last so long until he's curled up on the window sill or in your bed. 

Andi and you talk for a while as Klimt tires himself out and plays with all of his favorite toys. you dangle a string in front of him for a decent amount of time, too, just to make him get up on his hindquarters. he's a natural entertainer, a lithe little thing who lets out a few irritated meows to demonstrate his impertinence. 

after about forty-five minutes, however, you notice your cat's behavior change. he keeps raising his hackles and rolling about, and something about it makes you nervous. he doesn't usually act like this, not even when he plays with the other catnip toys he's accumulated. 

"what's wrong?" Andi notes your furrowed brow as you look past the camera of your phone and at your pet. 

"he's just acting really weird," you pat the couch cushion to call him over, but he doesn't even glance up. "I don't know why." 

"maybe it's the cat weed." she suggests. you purse your lips and try to think. 

"yeah, but nobody in the reviews ever mentioned anything like this."

"I'm sure he's fine, Y/N."  

"yeah, I know..." but you're worried. Klimt is your pal, your cuddle buddy. as he rubs his cheek against the wooden floor, you feel guilt pool in your stomach. if he's hurt because of some dumb online purchase, you're never going to forgive yourself. "I'm gonna call the vet just to be sure."  

"oh, okay," she sounds surprised, but doesn't try to stop you. "let me know what they say." 

"I will." you hang up the phone and stare at your companion for a few seconds. he leaps into the air and does a somersault before letting out some deeply disturbing whine that reminds you to call the vet. better safe than sorry.  

...

when the doorbell rings, you're practically twiddling your thumbs anxiously. Klimt hasn't settled at all, and you haven't even bothered to change out of your lounging ensemble. you're pretty sure you look a mess, but hopefully the person won't care too much. 

you don't know who to expect-- your usual vet is an older woman who is friends with your mom, but her receptionist said she was out tonight and would send over another vet to check it out. 

when you swing open the door, you immediately regret the decision to stay in sweatpants. 

"hi, I'm Wes." the guy gives you a friendly smile and holds up his bag. it's almost comically old-fashioned, something out of an old movie, and you half-expect him to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck. 

he's gorgeous, though. definitely a good amount older than you, tall with brown curls and stubble. his features stand out to you even under the porch light, and your mouth guppies idiotically. 

"hi," you manage. his eyes flicker to your hand, which is seemingly blocking him from coming inside the house, and you jolt back a little to let him in. you clear your throat. "sorry." 

as he steps inside and you close the door behind him, getting one tiny moment to yourself, your eyes widen. way to make yourself look like a bumbling fool. 

"I heard that there's a tabby who got into some catnip?" you catch him looking around the front of your house, eyes catching on the framed photos before finding yours again. you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, but nod confidently.  

"yeah, Klimt. he should still be in the living room." 

"Klimt? like the artist?" he chuckles and follows you into the rest of the home. his voice has a nice timbre to it, something low and gentle that fits well with his occupation.  

"yeah, exactly." you turn to smile at him. 

you hear the cat before you see him. he's climbed to the top of his cat tree and leaps down onto the ground, paws hitting the surface in a way that can't have been comfortable. he chirps and looks up at Wes, whose lips are turned up with amusement.    

"are you the man of the hour?" he asks, approaching the cat. Klimt's pupils get enormous and he prepares to pounce on the newcomer. 

"careful--" you start to warn him, but the cat launches himself right into Wes' arms. the vet turns to you, holding him to his chest, and grins. warmth spreads over your skin with embarrassment. "sorry." 

"no need to apologize," he starts to pet Klimt, who is only slightly struggling to escape. he wants to go wild again, but Wes isn't going to let go. "they call me the Cat Wrangler at the office." 

"really?" you snort. he brings your pet over to the couch and sets him on the cushions, careful to keep him in place. 

"no way." he shoots you a dazzling smile. the joke makes you giggle, and you feel yourself become even more self-conscious about the outfit you're wearing. this is just your luck, having hot guys come over when you distinctly look your worst. 

Wes scratches between Klimt's ears and glances up at you again. "is there any reason in particular you're worried about the catnip?" 

"yeah, actually," you nod, brought back to reality. "I know it's supposed to make them more playful, but he's just been acting weird and I got worried that there was something in it that messed with his head." 

"can I see the container for it?" he asks. you go to grab the jar, only to remember that it proudly announces itself as cannabis for cats. profound embarrassment causes you to hesitate with the stuff in your hands. 

it's not like he's here for you to flirt with, but you're still thinking about how stupid and young you're going to look with this stuff in front of him, a hot older guy who seems to have his life under control. you peek at him once more from the kitchen, at the way he smiles and starts to talk softly to Klimt as if he were a peer. 

he's kinda crazy, and it makes you smile. 

"it's cat weed." you hand him the glass container, and Wes breaks into a grin as he looks at the front. 

"oh my gosh, I've heard about this!" his eyes move quickly over the label. you're in shock. 

"really?"

"yeah, it's hilarious. here, can you make sure our friend here doesn't move while I read the ingredients?" he gestures. the knot of anxiety within you loosens a bit. you nod obediently, going to scoop up your pet and sit him on your lap. he's still squirmy, but he doesn't look ready to attack either of you, thankfully. 

"hey, you." you greet your pal affectionately. his tail is wagging impatiently while Wes kneels on the ground beside the couch. there's a silver ring on his finger, but you notice with relief that it's not on his fourth one. 

when he sets the jar down on the coffee table with the kind of smile that hints at some secret amusement, you frown. "what?"

"nothing," he shakes his head. "Klimt is gonna be totally fine."

"are you sure?" you pet the feline's smooth coat. 

"definitely. you know how drugs affect people differently?" he asks. you want to say no, you don't know that because why would you, but then you remember that there is quite literally a glass-blown bowl sitting on your kitchen table. 

"sure." you reply honestly. 

"it's the same with cats: some just feel the effects a little more." he shrugs. you think this over for a second. 

"that makes sense." 

"yeah, I'd estimate about an hour more of this wildcat behavior before he takes a ten-hour nap." he cracks another joke and you find yourself totally charmed by him. something about the way he talks just makes your heart beat like crazy.  

"that's a relief." 

he chuckles and stands up, grabbing the bag (which he never even had to use) and starting to walk out of the living room. you can smell his delicious cologne as he moves past you.  

"sorry for making you come out here so late." you apologize from the couch. Wes turns to look at you with an easygoing expression. his free hand is tucked into his pocket.  

"no worries. you have a lovely home." he gestures to the kitchen, and then at the bowl sitting there in the open. you have to fight the smile on your face.  

"thanks." you're smirking. right before he's about to head back out, you ask a question that's been wriggling around in your mind since he arrived. "why no title?" 

"you mean, like, Doctor or something?" he stops in the threshold. one hand leans against it while he answers your question. you still can't get over how tall he is. 

"sure. I mean, you are a doctor, right?" it comes out more dubious than you intended, but he doesn't get offended, only smiles. 

"yes, I'm a doctor. I went to Davis." he points like the school is right outside your door. you nod.  

"cool." 

there's a silence where you just look at each other, and you forget that you look like you just rolled out of bed. he clears his throat. 

"to answer your question, I just go by Wes because you're not my patient-- Klimt is." he points to the kitten, who is now chasing his own tail like a dog. you snort at the sight. 

"how humble of you." 

"I know, right?" he's joking. you find yourself not wanting him to leave, even though you've really just met. he's so sweet and funny and handsome... your stomach is flipping over and over like a schoolgirl. 

and it's stupid that you can't think of one plausible reason for him to stay, but every step he takes shortens your time to think. so you just blurt, instead. 

"would you want a beer?" 

Wes pauses and looks at you, an unreadable expression on his face. "a beer?" 

"yeah, I mean... you came all the way out here and I just feel bad for causing a fuss over nothing." you scramble slightly to justify your words. you don't ever drink beer-- do you even have any? god, this is embarrassing.  

the vet checks the watch on his wrist, then smiles at you with a halting kind of enjoyment, before nodding. "sure." 

"okay, great." you turn on your heel to hide the grin on your face. he follows you again to the kitchen area and leans against the counter while you open the fridge. the best form of flirting you can manage right now is bending over shamelessly and taking your time to poke around. 

thankfully, there are three cold bottles left towards the back. you take out two and use the tool in one of your drawers to pop the tops off. he watches patiently, takes a sip when you hand the drink to him. your eyes meet. 

"so, what prompted the cat weed purchase?" he starts the conversation effortlessly, and you try to keep your eyes from wandering over the shape of him. now that he's just standing in front of you, you're noticing the way his sweater sits against his frame, his long legs and the way his head rests on an elegantly-proportioned neck. 

"I just saw it and thought it would be fun." you shrug honestly. he smiles.  

"do you think you're gonna let him try it again another time?"  

"I don't know," you cross your arms over your chest. "I'm a little nervous, but he also was having a lot of fun until I made him sit still." 

"fair enough." you both turn your gazes to the cat. he's nudging a little toy ball with his nose and watching it roll across the floor. there are tiny bells inside that jingle. Wes turns back to you. "what do you do?"

"graphic designer." 

"an artist." he raises his brows, impressed. 

"not exactly saving animal lives, but I get by." you take another sip of your drink. 

"it's not like that, mostly." he rolls his eyes playfully. 

"then what's it like?"

"I just see and talk to people's pets all day. it's a pretty great job, even when it's not. you know?" he's optimistic about it. you're drawn to his positive energy, to the way he smiles when he speaks like he's preparing to deliver a witty joke. 

 you're hopelessly attracted to him, and the space between you is becoming unbearable. even though he's a guy you just met, you can feel in your gut that something about this is just right. you want his body against yours. 

 "you okay?" he breaks what you only now realize is a silence, and you blink to clear the dirty images from your mind. 

"yeah." only thinking about you fucking me against a countertop. it must be the fact that you haven't gotten laid in a while or something, because you usually aren't this attracted to people within the first hour. it takes longer for you to even want to kiss them.  

"what kind of stuff do you design?" he seems genuinely interested as he shifts and continues to nurse his drink.  

"I work for a tech startup downtown, so it's a lot of website work to make sure it's navigable and pretty." you try to sum up your duties, but it's hard when his hazel eyes are so intent. he listens to every word.  

"do you do personal work, too? like, just for you?" 

"actually, yeah!" this sparks your excitement. 

"can I see?" his smile widens. "only if you're comfortable, of course."  

"sure." you're beaming.  

he stays put as you start to go out of the kitchen, but then you smile. "you can come with." 

"oh." he sets his beer down on the counter and follows you, slightly surprised. but you don't care; you were nervous before, but he's stayed for this long. maybe he wants you, too. 

once you get to your bedroom, you're grateful that it's been freshly cleaned. there's even a bouquet from the flower's market sitting on your dresser, and you head over to the desk to sift through the drawers for what you want. 

"cool room." he compliments from the threshold. he's careful not to make you uncomfortable, but also can't resist the curiosity that draws his gaze from wall to wall. you find the stack of papers and smile. 

"thanks," you place the folder in his hands. "these are some printed versions of stuff I did last year." 

Wes immediately begins to flip through the art. him seeing your stuff makes you nervous, so you pretend to focus on straightening up the few items that sit on your desk. you wipe your fingertip over a nonexistent film of dust. 

"these are amazing," he says, holding a card stock copy in between his index and middle fingers. "holy shit."

"thank you." you're trying to keep from smiling too hard. you can tell that he's being genuine with his compliments, and it makes your heart swell. 

"definitely. are you showing anywhere?" 

"at an exhibit downtown a couple months back, but I've been so busy with work that personal stuff hasn't really been on the table, you know?"

he nods in understanding and continues to go through until the end. when he's finished, he looks up and sees you, his eyes concentrated. he doesn't speak at first, and an undercurrent ripples across the room. there are about three feet between you, and you have no excuse to lessen it. 

he licks his lips slowly. you purse yours, unsure of what to say. 

"I'm glad you called tonight." his voice is lower, slightly uncertain, like he's testing the boundaries. except you don't want boundaries right now. you want to go wild on him. 

"me, too." you reply. it's in your eyes, that begging for him to do what you're scared to initiate. 

your tongue is pressed to the back of your teeth in anticipation. and when he sets the art back on your desk and comes closer, you feel yourself give in. bubbles of excitement travel up your body as he grabs your face and bends down to kiss you. 

it's full, passionate, not the kind of kiss you give someone you've just met. laced with desire and longing, you respond immediately. hands immediately run to his forearms, over his shoulders as he imposes beautifully on your form. it's so hard, you lean back slightly. your torso presses against his until he pushes you against the wall. 

the slight gasp that escapes your lips causes him to smile, followed by your moan and clutching fingers. the material of his sweater, the taste of him mingled with that sophisticated, gentle smell of cologne that you want printed all over your skin. 

"come here." he murmurs against your mouth and reaches down to the back of your thigh so you can hook your leg around his waist. you whine at the easy access he has to grind against your core, both of you desperate. 

"Wes." you pant into his open mouth. he sucks on your bottom lip before finding your cheek and jaw. his fingertips tighten around your flesh. 

"this feel good, sweetheart?" he checks in. coincidentally, his jeans grind against your panties at exactly the right spot and your hips jump. you release a pleasured yelp. 

"mhmm." 

"sounds like it." he latches onto your throat with a possessive excitement. you can feel him sucking and biting at the skin until you're positive there'll be marks tomorrow. you hope there are; purpled evidence of his touch. he digs his nails into your thighs. "you like it when older men touch you, baby?" 

he blows over your tender throat before attacking it again. you sigh contentedly at the way he mingles sensations for your pleasure. "yes." 

he grunts and nips at your collarbone, sliding the strap of your top down your shoulder so that he can effortlessly flutter his lips over the skin. you grip at him and toss your head back against the wall. his weight on yours is divine. it makes you weak, but that doesn't matter. he's practically holding you up at this point. 

when his hand pushes under the hem of your shirt and dances over your stomach, you arch your back for more. he's gentle yet firm, pulling you close like he wants to breathe your oxygen. he's tracing over your ribcage, all the way up to the valley of your breasts, before cupping one and moaning into your shoulder. 

he kisses you again with an aching hunger that can't be satiated. your tongues meet and Wes finds your hardened nipples beneath the thin fabric of your bralette. you sigh while he starts to circle one with his thumb.  

"you're perfect." he breathes. 

you want to bask in this moment, to enjoy the shock across your skin when he reaches his hand back down between your bodies to dip below the waistband of your sweatpants, but you're just so greedy. he could make you cum over and over and it would never be enough. 

"what do you want me to do to you?" Wes is hovering over your lower stomach, dangerously close to where you need him most. he's teasing. the warmth of his skin drives you mad. his breath brushes over the shell of your ear. 

"fuck me." it's the only response you can fathom. every other instinct in your body flies out the window and is replaced by a craving to sink your proverbial (and literal) teeth into him.

but he loves it, apparently, because he pushes you back against the wall with a nearly bruising force. "I can do that." 

with those words, he quickly grabs your other leg and lifts you into his arms, bringing you to the bed and laying you delicately on the mattress while you giggle. you stare up at him with an almost daydreamy lust. his cheeks are flushed. 

you only get a second of that heavenly sight, though, before he dips down and pushes your shirt up to see your tits and kiss up the chasm between your ribs. his stubble tickles your skin, which causes you to smile. 

by the time he's pulled your sweatpants off and tossed them to the side, you're whining for him to strip down as well. 

"what is it, pretty girl?" he murmurs against your tummy. when you try to squeeze your thighs, he pushes them apart. 

"I wanna see you." your fingertips touch at his sweater. he chuckles and pulls the garment over his head. it messes up his perfect hair even more and you love it, tangling your fingers in it. he bites his lip. 

"do you want me to taste you first?" he keeps stroking the inside of your thighs and staring down at the skimpy lace that you're positive that you've already soaked. you're making him crazy with the way you roll your hips against air, against nothing, seeking any kind of stimulation. 

"I can't wait." you shake your head. as nice as it would be, you're going to implode if he doesn't fill you up soon. he drags his fingers down your clothed slit and groans when he feels just how ready you are for him. 

"let's take these off then, okay, sweetheart?" he hooks his fingers in the panties and waits for you to nod before tugging them down your legs. you whimper at the cool air that hits your core, soaked and needy. Wes stares at your body on display for him. 

as he gets back up from the floor to kiss you again, you both work to remove the rest of his clothes. his skin is perfect under your hands. his chest is warm, solid, and when he climbs on top of you, his arms rest on either side of your head.

one hand comes down to grab his own cock and stroke it a few times before lowering himself to rub it against your throbbing clit. you whimper at the pressure; he's mindless when he feels how easily you cover him in your essence. 

"so fucking wet..." he groans while rutting against you. 

"Wes, please--" your breath hitches. "put it in." 

"begging?" he teases your entrance with the head and smirks. "good girl." 

"mhmm." you're smiling, but your mouth drops open when he pushes himself inside. 

it's a heavy feeling, him filling you up. he's thick and the stretching of your walls makes him groan and rest his head on your shoulder. he kisses the skin there while diving deeper into your body. 

you're shaking slightly from the mixture of pain and pleasure, his size forcing your body to work quickly to accommodate. your eyes are squeezed shut, but you run your hands over his back and shoulders to stay grounded. it feels like a dream. 

he starts to pull out, coated in your wetness while you whimper below him, and he grabs your face with one hand in a dominant, soft gesture. "okay?"

"yeah." 

he pushes back in. the air in your lungs is practically gone at this point, he's so deep inside. your eyes roll back and push your hips up to take him at a new angle. Wes finds his pace easily, rocking into your body at a manageable pace to let you get used to the sensation. 

every time his hips roll down and he buries himself in you, he presses on your clit and sends a new shock through your body. he leans on his elbows to get closer and feel every undulation of your body. you love how his thrusts force your legs apart, how he moans your name and causes the headboard to repeatedly hit the wall while maintaining eye contact. hazel irises that rake over your features with lust. 

"you feel so good." he speeds up a little when he hits a certain spot. you can feel him deep and hard, causing a small bump to rise in your stomach with each stroke. his voice is husky and dark. like a man starved. 

"fuck..." you drag your nails down his back. he groans at the red marks that you will no doubt leave for him. 

"clingy thing, huh?" he sucks at your throat affectionately. "I come over for one thing and you can't help yourself." 

hearing Wes speak through his own panting is like listening to a secret, and you never want it to stop. he's reveling in the sordid crush of his own wants, and the way he shoves into you shows you that he has no intention of slowing down for a while. 

"I'm impatient." you smirk. he pulls away to admire your expression. 

"so am I." he kisses your lips and starts to pound into you. the juxtaposition of his tenderness and the sharp snap of his hips to yours fills you with butterflies. you love how much he wants to ruin you. 

"Wes-- oh my god!" you whimper. he grabs your hips and yanks them closer to him so he can go as deep as possible, so he can hit your cervix. 

"that's right, sweetheart," he pants. you can tell that he's starting to lose control. "say my name. I want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for me." 

the commanding tone makes your body shake. "I- I'm cumming, Wes, please--"

"please what, baby?" he taunts. his index finger is tracing over your jaw. 

you don't know what it is that you're wanting, except more. as your form shudders and tightens, walls fluttering around his cock, you lose the capacity to speak. you grind your hips against him and cry out pathetically while he pushes you back down and slams ruthlessly into your pussy. 

"cum inside-- please, I need it--" you writhe. he groans at the request. 

"fuck, yes..." he sheathes himself. "take it."

you gasp as he repeatedly hits your weakest point and spills hot ropes of his cum inside you, still thrusting in and out and whimpering into your shoulder at the clenching sensation you give his cock. it's warm, strangely delightful, nearly sending you into another orgasm sheerly from the sight. 

he mutters unintelligibly as he empties himself in your pussy, but you catch a growled "so needy," between deep moans. you're clinging to him like you'll never have it again. you might not. 

he slows down, giving shallower thrusts while riding out his high and shoving his cum deeper inside. it turns lazy and messy, both of you panting, before he finally pulls out and rolls over next to you. 

you press the back of your hand to your forehead. it's sweaty from all the work he just put you through, but you feel amazing at the same time. your eyes keep flickering from the ceiling above to his rising and falling chest beside you. his nose twitches; he turns his head to look at your face. 

although you expect him to say something, he doesn't. instead, you just stare at each other. the air conditioner rattles gently in the background. you're not sure how long this lasts, this soaking in, but he's the first to break it. 

"hey." 

you find the corners of your lips turning up. "hi." 

"do you mind if I go get something to clean you up?" he asks softly, his fingertips finding your forearm with ease and drifting over it.

"sure. bathroom is the first door on the left." 

he gets up and you watch him gather his clothes, eyes glued to his perfect form. you can't believe you just had sex with your veterinarian. you don't regret it at all. 

he wanders out of the room and your eyes follow, only to see Klimt sitting patiently by the door. 

"what are you doing, perv?" you tease as he comes over and leaps up onto the bed. his kitten paws pad over the blankets and settle into the crook of your arm. you smile to yourself, recalling how sweet the vet was with him. "hey, Wes?" you call out. 

"yeah?" he comes back into the room with a warm washcloth and a small smile on his face. 

"would you wanna get coffee or something sometime?" you bite your lip. maybe he doesn't want to go on a date, but it's worth a shot.

"sure." he breaks into a grin that makes you giddy. thank god, because you really were hoping to see him again. 

you can't wait.  

taglist (lmk about adding/removal or add yourself to the list here!): @jareids @reidsconverse @xoxomgg @may-b-a-u-shewritestoo @la-vie-en-amour1 @g0lden-cth @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @kisseslikecoffee @spenxerslut @slutforthegubes @spookydrreid @depressedgothgrl @flipper-kisses @multixfandomwriter​ @willowrose99​ @gingeraleluke​ @chasemoonlight​ @spencerreid9​ 

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Independent Study: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Geto Suguru is a star grad student with a lot going for him. And he wants to add you to that list.

wc: 1.9k

tw: NSFW (oral, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism)

“Professor y/n?” The sound of your name makes you look up from the laptop in front of you and into the black orbs of the graduate student everyone was raving about.

“Mr. Geto,” you call out, and stand from the wooden desk, fingertips grazing the surface carefully. “Please, come in. Close the door.” The man comes into your office, sliding the leather messenger bag off his shoulder and onto the floor before shutting the door, then taking a seat in front of you. “I heard you made the Dean’s List for the third time from Professor Yaga; congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Geto smiles sheepishly at you, ducking his head a little. “I’ve been working on a presentation, and I wanted to come to ask you some questions.” He pulls out his laptop and rests it on his knees, placing his glasses over his eyes as he squints at the screen. You can’t help but notice how studious he appears to be at all times.

The staff had gone wild over the man when he first arrived, not only because of his looks but his fully-funded endowment that brought the university over one-hundred thousand dollars in revenue. Here he was, in your office, despite you being in the physics department, and Geto being an engineering student.

“How can I help you?”

He turns the screen to face you, and you see the tell-tale font of a research paper. “I’m having a hard time with this study. Mind taking a look?” You hold your hands out for the device and take it willingly, sliding it across your desk and reading the title: A Study on Intercourse.

“Interesting,” you muse, but as you continue reading, you realize by the second sentence that the paper is anything but peer-reviewed research-based. Your cheeks heat up as you turn the laptop back around, avoiding his gaze. “Um, Mr. Geto, I’m not sure that this is your research paper.”

“Oh?” He squints at the first couple of sentences, then tilts his head. “No, that looks about right.”

“It’s… um… it looks like the beginnings of a personal account of your dealings with… intercourse.”

“That’s right.” He turns the laptop back to you. “You see, I require a sample size of twenty since I only have two variables in this study. I don’t want to parade around campus having sex with twenty girls. Too many unknowns, right?” You stare at him dumbly, anticipating his next words. “So I thought, why I don’t I just ask the most attractive woman on campus if she’d be willing to have sex with me twenty times? And that’s where you come in, Professor.” Have sex… with… Geto Suguru? The thought makes you feel the heat between your legs, but you fumble for your answer.

“I-in Section Fifteen of the employee handbook, it states that I am not allowed to engage in any relations with students on or off-campus. That--”

“Includes sexual relations, illicit drug use, drinking, or parties of any kind.” Geto finishes.

“How do you--”

“I’m employed to study here, Professor y/n. Did you think that hefty endowment couldn’t buy me some leeway?” You gape at the man, mouth slightly ajar. “Besides, being a scientist in residence is part of the endowment.”

“I--”

“If you want to help me, meet me here tomorrow at 12.” He slides you a sticky note with an address scribbled on it. “Your lunch is an hour and a half, right?”

“Yes…” you breathe and he nods, stuffing his laptop back into his bag before standing.

“Great. Oh, and… bring a change of clothes if you do show up.” Geto unlocks the door and leaves you sitting in your chair, dumbfounded.

_____________________________________________________________

Your finger finds the doorbell of the townhome, and as it rings, you look at your watch.

11:58.

You fiddle with the hem of your blouse as you wait for Geto to answer the door, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t answer and you could go back to work without considering any--

The door swings open, and Geto stands in the doorway, hair falling around his face.The grey shirt he’s wearing matches the joggers, but you dare look no further than the waistline. “Right on time,” he coos, and you enter the abode, looking around at the foyer and dining room. Everything is immaculate, you note, looking up at the crystal chandelier in awe. “Pretty, isn’t it?” You nod, and follow him past the kitchen and into a bedroom that’s twice the size of the one in your apartment. “You want anything? Water, something to eat?” He asks, turning around to face you.

“No, thanks,” you mumble, and he shrugs, shifting papers around on a desk that’s opposite a large bay window. The room is just as clean as the rest of the house: the bed is made, the floor is clean, and a video camera sits on a stand in the corner. “Um, Mr. Geto, I can’t--” Geto follows your line of sight and grunts once.

“I have to record these to gather evidence.” You look over at him, startled, and he holds up a piece of paper with blank spaces on it. “For my dissertation?” The reminder eases your nerves and you slide your purse off of your shoulders, setting it on his dresser. “I need you to sign this.” He walks over to you and hands you the paper with a ballpoint pen.

“What’s this?”

“Just a statement saying you agree to participate in the experiment and be filmed, but I agree to keep these for my viewing pleasure only and it won’t be distributed elsewhere.” You read over the words on the contract and sign below Geto’s name once you’re satisfied. When you finish, he takes the paper back and sits it on his desk before turning on the camera. “Date, ninth of May. Time, twelve o’five. First trial out of twenty.”

“H-how many are we going to do today?” you whisper.

“Just one per day. Though, we can go multiple rounds if you want,” he chuckles, rolling his shirt over his head and revealing his impeccable physique. You’re so focused on the way he looks half-naked that you almost forget why you’re there in the first place. Well, that is until he approaches you with a half-grin on his face. When he cups your chin and tilts your face up, you have no time to prepare for what comes next.

The kiss shared between you two snatches your soul from your body, and you lose all sense of what to do. Sure, you’ve had sex before, but it was always rushed, drunken, and passionless encounters. But the feeling of Geto’s fingers dipping beneath your blouse and to the edge of your pants makes you heady and so…

“I’m going to take my time with you,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want the best results for my research.” You reply by kissing him again, and he finds the zipper to your blouse easily, pulling it down so that you can slide it off without breaking the kiss. When Geto guides you to the bed, you sink back onto the soft sheets, and he leans over you, pulling your hands above your head.

He trails soft kisses down your neck and to your breasts, covered in a lacy pattern you fished out from the bottom of your drawer. You lift up a little so his fingers can fiddle with the clasp, and he undoes that with dexterity and ease, much to your surprise. He flings the item across the room and marvels at the way your body looks beneath him, eyes drifting over your figure with lust.

“I’ve been obsessed with you since my first day,” he admits, and you gasp slightly. “Fuck.” His mouth finds your left breast and tugs at the nipple with his teeth before easing the discomfort with his cool tongue. While he’s giving your chest attention, he’s simultaneously pulling your pants down, exposing your lack of underwear below. Geto notices a moment later, and chuckles again, looking up at you in surprise. “My, my, it looks like we left our underwear at home, huh?” He dips a finger past your folds to see how wet you are and is not met with an unsatisfactory discovery. In response to this, he immediately drops to his knees and pulls you to the edge of the bed. His tongue finds your core and you moan loudly, hoping that the camera would pick up every single sound you utter.

The slurping and hums of appreciation drive you wild, and your hands lace through his hair as he loses himself in eating you out. “Geto…” you breathe, and that drives him to go a little faster, drawing noises out of you that you aren’t used to hearing. He flicks at your clit once, twice, then dives back down to your slit eagerly, attacking your core like someone who hasn’t had a decent meal in ages. When he pulls away, mouth covered in your slick, he licks his lips and raises a brow at you.

“Ready?” You nod in response, and he pulls down his joggers to reveal a raging hard-on. “See? Both of us wore nothing underneath.” You stare at his length, mesmerized by how long and thick and… proportionate it was.

First, Geto was smart, then he’s handsome, and he’s well-endowed? It was virtually impossible, right? He grabs his cock and pumps it a few times, driving the head toward your slit and pressing past your folds with some difficulty.

“Shit,” he mutters, sliding the tip out and trying again. “You haven’t been fucked in a while, have you?”

“Uh-uh,” you respond before hissing at the stretching feeling.

“Fine by me.” He pulls out again to try one more time, and finally, the tip of his cock slides into you fully. He groans and you whimper gently. Geto sinks into you and leans on top to deliver a series of sweet kisses to your mouth as he moves inside of you slowly. “God, this is fucking amazing.”

You clasp an arm around his muscled back, moaning as he rocks his hips back and forth. “G-Geto, please…” Your words encourage him to move a little faster, the sound of your wet pussy slapping against his hips obscene and loud, but you don’t care. All you want is for Geto to fuck you senseless. The bed creaks with his movements, and his hair tickles your face as he watches your expression change from semi-discomfort to enjoyment.

“Mmmm, seems that all you needed was a little bit of stretching out,” he muses, capturing your other breast in his mouth and sucking the skin hard. You cry out, digging your nails into his back, and he hisses, mouth lifting off of your chest. “Shit, y/n.” You buck your hips against him fervently, and Geto’s eyes close as he finds his rhythm again, biting his lower lip.

The way he feels inside of you, stretching you past your limit and yet, caressing your walls with his veiny length - it was all too much. Forget experiments, this was more than that. This was passion.

“Suguru,” you pant. “I… I’m going to cum… I--”

“Cum for me,” Geto whispers in your ear, and you let loose, spasming around his cock while continues to thrust into you. “Mmmm, just like that… Fuck!” Seconds later, he cums as well, grunting as he tosses his head back and drenches your insides with his seed. As you both come down from the feelings of ecstasy, you wind your fingers through his hair and he rests his head in the crook of your neck, sighing contentedly.

“And how many times did you say we’d have to do this?” you wonder, stroking his hair.

“Twenty is the minimum… but I could always use some extra trials… you know, just in case.”

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @leanne-tamashi @jotazinha

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Distraction

Summary: Meeting a single Dad on the plane back to the states was maybe just the distraction you needed to get over your fear of flying.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: reader is afraid of flying, one panic attack

A/N: First time writing for Frankie. I don’t know about fear of flying or about babies, so of course I decided to write about both 🙈 Let me know if you like it 😂

Masterlist

taglist in reblog

Maybe it was time to find a new job. A job that didn’t require traveling to other continents at least once a year. You could be a barista. Or… any work that would require you staying on the ground where you belonged. Not in a tiny capsule that traveled way too fast and way too high.

You felt anxious throughout the whole day when you knew you had to go on a plane. It wasn’t even the height you were scared of. You couldn’t describe it. You always were very independent. Maybe it was the fact that you had to trust a stranger not to fuck up and make the plane crash. You didn’t know who would be the pilot. Of course, you knew that they were all trained professionals, they have to be but… ugh. Overthinking. You were overthinking again. Handing the stewardess your boarding pass she smiled kindly at you and you tried to smile back before you sighed and slowly walked down towards the plane.

As soon as your nose smelled the engine (yes you could smell it) you felt like your stomach wouldn’t make it. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep, trying to remember that millions of people did this every day. Opening your eyes you looked at the plane door where a man was just climbing in, a baseball cap on his head. He was carrying a baby that was sleeping on his shoulder as if nothing else mattered. You smiled softly. If a baby could do it, you could too.

Nope. No you couldn’t.

You felt your throat getting dryer the further you walked into the plane in search of your seat. You never sat at the window, always in the middle. You read that it was more safe once. When you arrived in the row you would be sitting you couldn’t help but smile, finding the man with the baby sitting on the window seat, the baby carrier in the middle seat. He looked up and you were met with warm brown eyes. His hand was on the baby’s back, almost covering it entirely. He gave you a tired smile and you nodded.

“Hi,” you whispered, not wanting to wake the baby.

“Hey,” he nodded quietly. You took your coat off, putting it in the cabinet over the seat, and sat down. You intended to work on your way back to the states so you brought your laptop. Pushing your bag under your seat you got out your phone, putting it in flight mode before you secured the seat belt. People were still coming into the plane and you felt yourself getting more nervous. Sucking your bottom lip in, you took out the card with the safety instructions in front of your seat, reading it carefully. Your assigned security exit was just two rows behind that was good to know. You were unaware of the man sitting two seats next to you watching you. You crossed your legs, your sweaty hands on your thigh when they closed the doors. You turned your head as you heard the man next to you mumble in Spanish and noticed that the baby had woken up and was now looking at you with big eyes. She was still lying against the man’s chest, her head just under his chin, his lips kissing her head. You looked at him then, noticing how attractive he was, his eyes closed as he gently rubbed circles on the baby’s back. His base cap sat deep on his head, dark wild curls underneath that peaked out. You never thought a mustache could be attractive but maybe he was the exception.

People were finally settled in their seats and you felt the plane move as the announcement from the boarding crew came for the safety instructions. You heard a tiny whimper and looked at the man. The baby was clearly not happy with the loud voices from the speaker. You wondered why he was alone on a plane on a seven-hour flight back to the states with a baby that couldn’t be much older than maybe four months. A noise made you jump and he looked at you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassed.

“First flight?” he asked. You shook your head.

“I wish it was. That wouldn’t make me being scared so embarrassing,” you sighed, your eyes wandering between him and the baby on his chest. He smiled a little.

“You can’t choose your fears,” he shrugged. He was right you couldn’t.

“I wish I could though. I feel like I’m gonna faint every time I have to fly.”

He looked at you before he began to open a bag that was laying in the baby carrier.

“You probably already heard all kinds of solutions for going over your fear but as a pilot let me assure you, that it’s perfectly safe.” He seemed to have found what he was searching for, a baby bottle with milk in his hands.

“You’re a pilot?” you asked fascinated.

“Was. Military. But can’t with this one needing me around,” he kissed the baby’s head.

You smiled. “She’s adorable.”

“She’s my whole world,” he put her in the crook of his left arm, his right hand checking the bottle.

“Gotta make sure the entire plane doesn’t hate me for bringing you on here, baby girl,” he said quietly. She looked up at him with big eyes, her little arms going up as he brought the bottle in her line of view and you chuckled. He looked at you, giving you a soft smile.

“It’s our second flight but she’s a trooper,” he explained. “Feeding her during take-off and landing helps with the ear pressure,” he explained.

“Are we taking off already?” you asked, feeling the nervous flutter inside your belly.

“I can talk you through it, if you want to?” he offered as he brought the bottle down and the baby began to suck eagerly just when the plane seemed to be in starting position.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you shook your head.

“I wouldn’t have offered, if it would bother me,” there it was again, that shy smile that made your heart seem to stop for a second.

“Okay. Thank you…”

“Frankie,” he offered.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you smiled.

You still felt nervous after an hour in the air but now you weren’t sure if it was the flight or the man sitting next to you. Finding an attractive and, as you found out, single Dad that looked at his baby girl like it was his whole world, didn’t help to settle your nerves or ovaries. But you would take this kind of nervousness in a heart beat instead of your fear of flying. He had talked you through every little step on what the pilot would be doing. It may vary from flying a helicopter as he did, but the steps were the same. He had squeezed your hand that was grabbing the seat like a lifeline an hour ago. You swore you could still feel the warmth of his hand.

Sofia, the 3 ½-month-old girl that was his daughter was now laying in the baby carrier in the middle seat, her hand squeezing your finger as she slept. Every thought of working on your project was gone as you looked down at the sleeping baby.

“She’s got a pretty hard grasp,” you said looking down at her.

“Yeah. She’s so big already. I can’t believe it,” Frankie said. You looked up, seeing him lift his hat, his hand running through his hair before he put his cap back on. You smiled at him.

“What brought you over here?” you asked. He made a face.

“One of my military friends was wounded.”

“Oh. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Thank you for asking.”

“I wish I had friends like that. Flying for me over the globe in a heartbeat,” you sighed, trying to overplay the sadness in your face.

“Oh I’m sure you have someone,” he mused.

“I used to. But I moved across the country after my father died and I never really got settled in where I live now if that makes sense?”

“Well, why don’t you hang out with me… uh us?” Frankie suggested. You looked up at him.

“Careful with an offer like that. I might just say yes to hang out with Sofia,” you teased. As if she could hear you, she squeezed your finger and you just about melted.

“She’s great to hang out with, I’ll give her that,” Frankie said “But can she hold an hour-long conversation with a beautiful woman?”

You looked up then, seeing him look at you and you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Guess I’ll have to talk to you until she can, huh?” you teased.

“Guess so,” he shrugged, a small smirk on his lips.

Frankie had just left to use the bathroom, leaving Sofia under your watchful eyes when her eyes blinked open. She seemed to look for her Dad until she looked at you. You could see her small lips pouting, her face frowning and your heart broke before she had even whimpered for the first time. Carefully you took her out of the baby carrier, hoping Frankie would be okay with you taking her out and took her into your arms. She was fully crying now.

“Shh…” you mumbled, propping her up so she was lying in the crook of your arm.

“Dad’s gonna be here any minute now, sweet Sofia,” you said soothingly. She didn’t stop. Sighing you changed so she was with her head on your shoulder as you got up from your seat. Maybe taking a little walk with her would help. You run your hand over her back like you had seen Frankie did before as you walked down the aisle and her cries got quieter until they stopped when you were close to the cockpit.

“There you go. You just wanted to see something different, huh, baby girl?” you asked whispering soothingly.

“Where’s your papa? What’s taking him so long?” you ask, beginning to walk back towards the seat. Frankie’s wasn’t back so you took Sofia down to the other side of the plane. You giggled as you found Sofia grab your hair and pulling lightly.

“Hey… Do you do that with your Dad’s hair too?” you asked, knowing you wouldn’t get an answer. You pulled her from your shoulder and she looked at you with big eyes as you put her in your arm so she could look up at you. Passing an older lady you smiled.

“She looks just like you,” the woman smiled softly as she looked down at Sofia who was still looking at you. You felt your cheeks getting warm again.

“Oh... I’m not…” you began but she only nodded at you and walked back to her seat. Confused you walked further until you saw Frankie walking towards you. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he looked at you and you hoped you didn’t overstep.

“I’m sorry. She was crying and…”

“She likes you,” he said, his hand brushing over her cheek and she smiled, clearly noticing her Dad was back.

“You want her back?” you ask, secretly hoping he didn’t.

“I think she looks very comfortable where she is,” he said. You looked up, finding him looking at you. He was taller than you but he was close. So close. You didn’t notice the spot on his jaw that was beard free before and you found yourself wanting to kiss him there. Kiss him everywhere. You gulped, looking down again.

“Let’s get back to our seat, huh, little lady?” you asked and walked back.

Sofia was sleeping again and you were trying to read your book. And not think about the man sitting two seats next to you. You looked at him from the side and found him always already looking at you. You felt like a teenager. You had to smile to yourself, thinking that must have been the longest date you had ever been on. You chuckled to yourself which made Frankie look at you, an eyebrow raised. You just shook your head embarrassed.

“I was thinking…” he began.

“Yes?” you asked.

“Can I invite you for a drink?”

You blinked at him, sucking your bottom lip in. You were about to answer when the whole plane shook with a turbulence and you sucked your breath in harshly. For a moment you had forgotten where you were.

“Shit…” you whispered to yourself, leaning with your head against the seat, closing your eyes, while your fingernails grabbed into the seat. The plane shook again and you breathed in and out to control your rising panic.

“Hey…” you felt someone grab your hand. You were too scared to open your eyes.

“It’s just some minor turbulence. We gonna be out of it in no time,” it was Frankie. He felt how your hand was shaking and didn’t let go.

“Just breathe. Can you open your eyes for me?” he asked. You shook your head, squeezing his hand harder.

“I know you can, look at me Hermosa,” you could sense that he was closer. Turning your head towards his side you opened your eyes.

“There you are, now breathe with me,” he looked at you and you got lost in his eyes as he breathed with you and you felt yourself calm down.

“That’s better. You made it,” he smiled. He was still holding your hand.

“Thank you, Frankie,” you said quietly. He leaned down, kissing the back of your hand he was still holding and you shivered when his lips connected with your skin.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled.

He didn’t let your hand go until Sofia woke up and demanded very loudly for her bottle.

It was you who gave Sofia her bottle as the plane landed and it made you forget about your fear of flying. Frankie watched you the whole time and it made your heart flutter. You wanted this. Only 7 hours ago you were on another continent and alone and now you had the baby of a man you met on a plane in your arms you didn’t want to let go.

You never even thought about children. There never was someone you could imagine having children with. It was always you. Just you.

But Frankie had shown you more attention in the last hours than any other person ever since your father died. You were lonely, you knew that. But you had made your peace with it. You were enough. But maybe you didn’t have to be just enough. Maybe you wanted to be more. Maybe Frankie wanted to be more.

The plane stopped and you smiled sadly down at Sofia in your arms. Slowly you put her in the baby carrier and she wasn’t happy about it. You almost cried.

“Come on you were so good the whole time…” Frankie whined and you giggled. He looked at you with a playful pout.

“I think she misses you already,” he said and you sighed.

“I’ll miss her too,” you smiled down at her, your hand brushing over her head and she took hold of one of your fingers again, making you chuckle.

You helped let Frankie out to get his stuff first, staying seated with Sofia. He gave you your coat and you reached for your bag under the seat before you got out of your seat. He had a backpack on and reached for the baby carrier. You were the last people on the plane. You waited until he had everything before you slowly walked towards the exit of the plane. Thanking the stewardess who was standing near the cockpit with a smile you got out of the plane, thankful to finally be on solid ground. You were about to turn around to look where Frankie was when you felt him grab your hand, squeezing it once. There it was, the nervous flutter in your belly again as you looked up at him and saw his small smile.

You were standing together waiting for your suitcase. Frankie had put Sofia in her stroller where she was sleeping peacefully. He already had his suitcase and was waiting for you.

“So…” you began, looking at him. He turned, now facing you fully.

“So?” he asked, a teasing smile on his lips.

“I was wondering about that drink you offered?” you asked. He nodded.

“How would you feel about dinner on Saturday? I’ll come and visit you in the big city?” he smiled. You felt your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You couldn’t wait.

“What about Sofia?” you asked.

“My friend can watch her. He owes me and… I want to be alone with you,” he stepped closer and you sucked your bottom lip in as you looked up.

“It’s only an hour drive, please say yes…” he whispered.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Great. You have to get a table I have no idea what’s good over there. I’m more of a country guy…” he brought his hand up, cupping your cheek and you leaned into his touch.

“How about I cook dinner?” you offered, “So we truly are alone,” you clarified.

He leaned down, his lips brushing over yours softly and you closed your eyes, your hand clutching his soft shirt. He leaned his forehead against yours when he parted from your lips, breathing deeply.

“Yeah. Alone. I like to be alone with you,” he whispered, his nose brushing over yours. You nodded before you took a step back.

“Saturday?” you asked as you walked out.

“Saturday,” he replied and kissed you again.

[storiesforallfandoms]

nothing left ~ 10k;z nation

word count: 2229

request?: no

description: he accompanies her back to her childhood home to find nothing left besides the memories of times before the zombies, and they decide to leave some new memories there

pairing: 10k x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

(Y/N) kept a straight face as they drove past the sig with her hometown’s name displayed in bold, black letters against the stark white background. It was the first time she had been there since she and her parents had escaped during the initial Z outbreak. Since then, she had lost everything, but managed to find a new family within the small group that took her in.

They came to a stop at an empty parking lot of an abandoned supermarket. Everyone got out, weapons in tow.

“This place is a ghost town,” Doc commented.

“Almost everyone vacated when the infection started,” (Y/N) explained. “I don’t even think there would be any Zs here. It’s probably only been ransacked lately.”

“It’s the only town for miles, it’s our best bet for resources,” Warren said. “We search the place where we can and see what we can find.” She turned to (Y/N) to add, “Do you want to go home? Just to see the place if nothing else?”

(Y/N) was dying to get home, but she didn’t want anyone on the team to see her as weak or fragile. Although she knew they wouldn’t think any different of her if she did show some weakness, in this day and age, your biggest threat was to be perceived as weak to anyone.

Before she could respond, 10k spoke up. “I think you should. It’ll give you a break from everything, and you can be closer to your parents for even just a moment.”

(Y/N) had a hard time saying no to 10k, especially when parents were involved. She knew he wanted nothing more than to be close to his own father again, but, like (Y/N), 10k hadn’t been home in nearly a year. He didn’t even know if his own home was still standing. If she turned down this opportunity that she knew 10k wanted so bad in front of him, she’d never forgive herself.

“It would be nice,” she admitted.

“You go then honey,” Warren said, her voice soft and kind. “10k, you go with her for protection. Meet us back here before sundown. We’ll wait a little while, but not too long.”

The two youngest members left in the opposite direction of the group. (Y/N) led 10k down the still familiar roads. They weren’t too far from the house and, before she knew it, (Y/N) was stood in front of her childhood home. Her eyes widened at the sight of it.

All the windows were smashed and the door was practically ripped off of the hinges. They entered with weapons raised in case of a Z attack. (Y/N)’s heart broke to see the place ransacked and destroyed. Every picture her parents had hung were smashed to pieces. Only one remained partially in tact, one of (Y/N) and her parents when she was barley a year old. They were on their first vacation as a family to visit someone in another state. The picture was of the three of them on the beach together. Baby (Y/N) was in her mother’s arms, taken by the sand in her tiny hands while her parents were smiling brightly at the camera.

10k looked over her shoulder as her eyes began to water. “You look a lot like your mom.”

“I got that a lot,” she said. “We were basically twins. Dad said I got lucky with mom’s genes.”

She held the picture close to her chest as she moved up the stairs to where the bedrooms and main bathroom was. Whoever had broken in must’ve found what they wanted on the first floor because the bedrooms were relatively untouched. Every poster and picture (Y/N) had on her walls were still there. Her old laptop was even still there, although she doubted that it worked anymore.

“It’s weird,” she said. “It feels like I’ve been gone for years, but this room looks exactly the way I left it, like not a day has past.”

“Anything here you want to take with you?” 10k asked.

(Y/N) shook her head. “I took most of the important stuff when we left first. There’s nothing but memories here now.”

She was so lost in her own thoughts - memories of when things were good - that she didn’t hear 10k leave the room to walk into the bathroom until he spoke again. “The water still runs.”

She walked into the bathroom to find clean water running from the tap. She put a hand under the water, feeling it go from freezing cold to comfortably warm in seconds.

“The power and stuff must still be running,” she said. “Good news for us. I haven’t showered in ages.”

“You think it’s safe?” 10k asked, but (Y/N) was already placing her weapons on the bathroom counter and shedding herself of her top layers.

“I’m willing to take one for the team if it means I’ll be clean when I die,” she joked. “You can watch the door and make sure no Zs or no more looters come in. I’ll leave my gun close enough that I can use it if need be.”

10k nodded. Before he could get the chance to turn back on, (Y/N) grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head. For a split second, 10k saw the black bra she was wearing. It was old and worn, probably one of the only ones she had left. Due to this, it was basically falling apart, so when he got a brief glance of the bra, he also got a glance of one of her breasts.

10k’s eyes widened as he quickly turned his back so that (Y/N) didn’t know. He stood in the doorway, listening over the sound of the shower running for any indication of someone, or something, breaking into the house.

The warm water running over (Y/N) caused her to let out a moan of relief. It had been so long since she had properly bathed. The warm water of the familiar shower felt like heaven to her.

Outside the shower, 10k was shuffling awkwardly. He and (Y/N) had been close since they had first met, but they had only ever viewed each other as friends and Z fighting colleagues. He didn’t understand why he was starting to have this feeling about her. Maybe it was just boy hormones and the fact that she was a naked girl just a few feet away from him. But it felt like more than that. Maybe it had always been more than that but he was just afraid to admit it.

Before he could stop himself, 10k silently placed his gun next to hers on the toilet cover. He began to shed himself of his own clothes, working quickly and quietly as to not disturb her. (Y/N) had her head back with the water running over her hair and body when 10k pulled the curtain back and stepped in. She opened her eyes to look at him, shocked by his sudden appearance. She looked him up and down for a moment, her face giving away nothing.

“Gotta save water,” 10k said, trying to lighten the mood.

A smile broke out across (Y/N)’s face as a small giggle came from her lips. “Come here, 10k.”

She put a hand on the back of his neck at the same time that his hands found her waist. Their lips collided and it felt like the most right thing in the terrible, fucked up world around them. 10k’s lips moved against (Y/N)’s perfectly, as if they were supposed to be there, to be kissing her so deeply. His hands wandered over her dripping body, touching every inch of her soft skin with his calloused hands.

(Y/N) let out a sudden squeal as 10k lifted her effortlessly, wrapping her legs around his waist. She was shocked at his strength. Sure, he wasn’t as scrawny and wimpy as he may have looked, but he certainly wasn’t the strongest person in the world. He’s just full of surprises, (Y/N) noted as his lips connected with hers again.

His hard boner was against her aching core, teasing her ever so slightly with every gently brush against her. She whimpered against his lips when she felt him brush against her opening, trying to ground her hips against his to feel her inside of him. Knowing that she wanted this as much as he did made him even more turned on. He was almost afraid that he wouldn’t be able to make this moment last long enough.

He helped to guide her down onto his hard length, causing (Y/N) to gasp as he filled her entirely.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked her, suddenly realizing that he had no idea what (Y/N)’s sexual past was like.

“No,” she responded, her voice breathless and airy. “I just haven’t had sex in a very long time. I forgot how good it felt.”

10k smiled at her and pressed his lips against hers again. He pressed her back against the nearest wall and slowly began to thrust himself into her. (Y/N)’s back arched against the wall, trying to get as close to 10k as she possibly could.

He was slow and gentle, which drove (Y/N) even more wild. She held on around his neck as if her life depended on it, moaning and gasping against his lips with every thrust he pushed into her. She could barley even think straight, her mind focusing only on the pleasure that 10k was providing her.

“Is this alright?” he asked, his voice soft.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. Sweet 10k, always thinking of the comfort of others, even when he was in the middle of the most intense shower sex (Y/N) had ever had.

“It’s more than alright,” she responded. “God, it feels so fucking good.”

10k had heard (Y/N) swearing many times, but hearing the expletive word slip from her breathless voice in that moment drove him wild. He rested his head against her shoulder, groaning as he pushed his hips against hers again, filling her completely.

“You feel so good,” he told her. “You’re so soft and warm, fuck.”

“Who would’ve thought that sweet 10k had a dirty side?” (Y/N) giggled.

“You must not know me well enough, then.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Her thought was cut short as 10k pulled almost completely out of her then filled her again. Her mind was clouded with lust as she tried to rock her hips against his, begging for the release she wanted.

Noticing her desperation, 10k wrapped one arm around her lower back and slipped his free hand between them. (Y/N) gasped as his fingers connected with her swollen nerves and began to rub circles in them. She could feel a familiar pressure building inside of her. She clung to 10k’s shoulders, curses falling from her mouth in between moans of pleasure. Her legs began to shake as she felt herself hitting her climax. She threw her head back and called 10k’s name - his real name - in pleasure.

Feeling her walls contracting around him caused 10k to feel his own climax approaching. He held on to her hips as his thrusts became a little faster. Before he knew it, his eyes were nearly rolling back into his head as he felt himself filling her with his warm cum. The feeling of the warmth inside of her was enough to almost turn (Y/N) on again.

They stayed tangled together for a moment, completely forgetting about the running water cascading down onto them. It wasn’t until the warm water started to turn cold that they realized it was probably time for the two of them to get out.

Luckily for them, whoever looted the house also didn’t think to take any of the towels in the upstairs linen closet, so they had a way to dry themselves off. Before she started pulling her clothes on, 10k wrapped his arms around (Y/N) again and kissed her exposed shoulders and neck before placing one last sweet kiss against her lips.

“We should tell the others about the running water,” he said as he pulled his clothes back on. “If this place is relatively Z-less, we could probably get away with staying here for a while.”

“We’ve stayed in worst looking places,” (Y/N) agreed. “I’m sure everyone else is dying to clean themselves, too. There’s enough room for everyone to sleep with all the bedrooms and the couch downstairs.”

The reminder of the wreckage when they first entered caused a melancholy mood to wash over (Y/N) again. Noticing this, 10k brought her into his arms and held her tightly.

“I’m sorry about your house,” he said. “I’m sorry someone did this to you, that they took all the memories of this place.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “They didn’t take the memories. No one could ever take that from this place. Besides, I’d like to make some new memories here...with you.”

10k smiled and kissed the top of her head. “I think we’ve already started with that.”

(Y/N) giggled and pulled away from him. “Let’s go find everyone to tell them before they leave us abandoned.”

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 1

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance. Billy gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕀'𝕞 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕠 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕕, 𝕀 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕕𝕒𝕪, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕧𝕚���𝕘 𝕞𝕖 𝕞𝕒𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕨𝕒𝕪

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were grabbing armfuls of clothes out of the wardrobe and dumping them into the three massive suitcases you’d laid open on the floor. If any of your friends had seen you at that point, they’d have said you looked like a woman possessed.

Finally, the wardrobe was empty of your clothes, and you moved on to the chest of drawers and then the bathroom. The contents were shovelled into a couple of large backpacks, as were various other bits and bobs from bedside table drawers and shelving units. In a surprisingly short space of time, you’d packed up everything that belonged to you in this damned apartment.

That left you just two very quick things to do, and you could then somehow get all this luggage downstairs into the lobby and get the hell out of Dodge.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The receptionist at the airport hotel you were booking into looked at the amount of luggage you had with you, and studied your face again carefully. No doubt she was wondering if you were a celebrity. Obviously deciding that there was an outside chance that you were but she just hadn’t recognised you, you were given an upgrade on the room without even asking for one.

Plopping down onto the bed once you’d got into your room, you rummaged around in one of the backpacks until you found your laptop, connecting it to the hotel WiFi. Opening one of the major airlines’ websites, you began scrolling through the destinations offered from JFK.

So many to choose from!

Now to plan your getaway.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy Russo got back home really late. He was going to be in trouble, no doubt about it... he hadn’t even texted because he hadn’t wanted to face any questions about what he was doing and when he’d be home.

Opening the apartment door, he was surprised to find it in darkness. Oh... had she gone to bed already? That wasn’t a good sign. He switched on the lights and immediately noticed a sheet of paper and a photo frame lying prominently on the kitchen island.

Walking over, he didn’t even have to pick up the note to read it. There was only one word, printed large.

“Goodbye.”

His stomach knotted and then he looked at the photo frame lying next to it. The photo was the one which was usually on the bedside table, a favourite of his.... she was sitting on a bar stool and he was behind her, his arms right around her. Both laughing into the lens as the photo was taken.

The photo was still in the frame, but it was torn in two.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Finally, by the next morning you’d decided on London. You’d never been, and quite honestly wanted to lose yourself in another big city. Flight booked, an AirBnB apartment booked for two weeks and you didn’t need a visa, so you were all set.

Now just one more thing to do. You opened up the box containing your new mobile phone and fitted the SIM card into it. After about twenty minutes of entering contact details and various apps onto it, you took your original phone and called Karen.

Her bored voice answered so you knew she was already at work, but she perked up when she heard your voice.

“Hi honey! How’re things? Wanna meet up for lunch today? I’m bored and I need a good gossip.”

You were a freelance copy writer and so you were your own boss. There were one or two assignments you were currently working on, but you could work from anywhere you could get a WiFi connection, so that wasn’t a problem.

“Uhhh, sadly not darling, I’m flying to London this afternoon.” You could hear her intake of breath, then she squealed, “Oh you lucky woman, how’d you manage to land an assignment like that?”

You gave a bitter little laugh, “I’ve left Billy.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had sat on his sofa for a long time after he’d seen the note and photo. At first he’d just had to sit down, overwhelmed, as he had the most horrible feeling that his world was crashing down around his ears.

She was the one person who made him feel safe and loved. But he knew only too well that he’d been walking the line recently what with the situation at Anvil and having to keep Madani sweet. He hadn’t actually crossed the line, but he’d had to make sure she thought that he would, and soon at that. Would he have crossed it? He’d need to get back to himself on that question.

Of course he’d mentioned none of this to his girl. But obviously - somehow - he mustn’t have done a very good job at being discreet because she’d guessed something was up. And left him.

He’d poured himself a large whisky and downed it in one, before going over to the window and looking out forlornly at the city lights. Then he called Frank.

When he heard the gruff growl on the other end of the line, he said, “She’s left me, Frankie,” and realised how hoarse his voice sounded.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“What?!” screeched Karen. You hadn’t divulged your recent secret fears to her, hoping against hope that you were wrong when you’d started noticing little things over the past few weeks. But now you gave her a full rundown of it all.

More and more claims of ‘working late’ and ‘being very busy at work’.

Alcohol on his breath after he’d been on these ‘working late’ evenings.

A distinct smell of CK’s Eternity from a jumper he’d left crumpled up in a corner on the bedroom floor when he’d been out extra late one evening.

The final straw? You almost laughed when you thought about it, as it was such a cliché. A smear of dark red lipstick on the inside collar on one of his otherwise pristine white shirts. And another unmistakable whiff of Eternity.

You’d never be able to wear that damn perfume again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frankie had been suitably sympathetic to start with, but had then begun to berate Billy for being ‘a stupid asshole’ once he’d explained what he’d been up to with Madani. “I didn’t sleep with her!” Billy grumbled, “....just messin’ around. You know we need to know what she knows.”

“Yeah, but women ain’t stupid, Russo! Were you goin’ home reeking of booze and another woman’s perfume?” Billy said nothing at first, just grunted but then said, “Maybe. Yeah.. probably.” “See!” said Frank, “...you’re a stupid asshole!” “I mean, she didn’t even challenge me on it!” Frank started laughing, “So that makes it her fault, huh!? You’re a piece of work, Russo.” “No, no.... I just meant, aren’t you supposed to have arguments about that kinda stuff first? She just up and left me!”

“I don’t blame her,” said Frank, “...and you know she’s not the type to take any BS from you, Bill. She probably thought it wasn’t worth her time listenin’ to you tryna give excuses for the inexcusable.”

Billy was reminded by this that one of Frank’s pet peeves was infidelity. “But I didn’t cheat!” said Billy forcefully. “Whaddya do, kiss her?” “Yeah.” “Feel her up a bit?” “Mmhuh.” “That’s cheatin’ in my book, Russo.” Billy realised he was hanging his head in shame, and quickly looked up and out of the window again.

“I dunno what to do, Frankie.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d given Karen your new number and told her on pain of death not to pass it on to anyone, even Frank and especially not to Billy. She’d assured you she wouldn’t, and neither would she tell them where you were headed.

She’d been fuming at Billy, and you wouldn’t like to be in his shoes the next time she happened to meet up with him. Her rage had been quite spectacular and she was really, really pissed that Billy hadn’t even tried to contact you. You didn’t say anything to her, but secretly you wondered if he’d actually spent the night with his side piece on this occasion and hadn’t even seen your note yet. Jealousy and anger began to take over and you stood up abruptly, determined that thoughts of that douchebag weren’t going to invade your brain.

You took the SIM card out of the phone, shut it down and tucked it away in one of your bags. Gathering all your stuff together, you began to get ready to leave the room..

Can’t wait to get on that plane, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frankie rang Billy back a couple of hours later. “Micro tracked her phone,” he said without preamble. “Where is she? At Karen’s?” Billy asked anxiously. There was a pause, then, “Nah, Bill. She’s at JFK. And her phone’s switched off now.”

Billy, standing next to the window again, yelled, “Fuck!” before leaning his head against the cold glass. “Can Micro find out which flight’s she’s booked on, Frankie?” “He can try, but it’ll involve some hacking so it might take a little longer.” He paused again, before continuing, “And avoid Karen. She’s out for your blood.”

Billy sighed, “She’s spoken to her?” “Yeah, course she has, Bill. She knows more than she’s tellin’ me of course, but I’m not even gonna try askin’ her. Waste of time.” “It’s okay, I get it, Frankie. I wouldn’t ask you to. But if she does say anythin’.....” “I’ll let you know,” Frank finished the sentence for him and hung up.

Billy looked out of the window and then up into the sky. She wanted to get away from him so badly, she’d got a plane ticket and was about to fly.

He just prayed he’d be able to find her before she took off.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

London

[ash-rigby]

A Simple Request (Werewolf) [M/M]

Featured Characters: Male human and a male werewolf. Both are adults.

Description:  Lucas has been imagining some less than innocent things involving his boyfriend’s fully-turned werewolf form for a long time, and has now gathered the courage to ask Jace to indulge in his fantasy.

Contains: Rimming, Anal Sex, Knotting, Mild Cum Inflation, Overstimulation.

Completion Date: June 19th, 2019

Word Count: 2294

-

“So, you are completely aware when you’re in wolf-mode, right?”

Lucas’ voice came out a little shakier than he intended, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of anticipation for what he was about to ask his boyfriend to do for the first time in their two-year long relationship.

Jace huffed in laughter. “Yeah. I’ve told you before: It’s all me, with a weird urge to just haul ass in no particular direction through the woods all night.”

They were hanging out on his bed, cuddling and just quietly enjoying each others company while a playlist of indie rock played from Lucas’ open laptop.

Lucas was laid on top of his boyfriend’s broad chest, content as Jace ran a large hand through his hair. He had broken the silence between them with his question seemingly out of nowhere. Not really though. The idea had been on his mind for a long, long time.

“I wouldn’t be taking advantage of you then,” he murmured.

“What?”

“I want you to fuck me while you’re turned.”

There was no answer right away, as Lucas suspected. He looked up at Jace and was met with a wordless, wide-eyed gaze.

He sucked in a breath, feeling the heat of embarrassment rushing into his face. “I’m sorry. Did I cross a line? I know it’s really weird. You don’t have to—”

“No!” Jace interjected. “No, babe. I’m into it. Super into it. Just surprised me.”

Lucas sighed in relief. “So…you’ll do it?”

“Yeah. I mean, as long as you’re absolutely sure about it.”

“Very sure,” Lucas said. “I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I saw you like that.”

Jace gave an inquisitive hum. “Oh?”

Lucas had certainly jerked off to the thought more than once. It had surprised him when his fantasy shifted to it one night, but he had never cum so hard in his life until then. He wanted this so bad. His cock twitched in interest just from the thought of it.

“Yeah.” Lucas paused, swallowing hard. “Just…being on all fours with your huge weight on me, pounding me hard and fast into the mattress like a wild animal.”

“You want me to mount you?” Jace’s heartbeat had started to thunder.

Lucas nodded. “And do you guys knot? Like dogs?”

“Yeah,” Jace said after clearing his throat which did nothing to help the huskiness that had settled into it. “There’s…there’s always a lot of cum too.”

Lucas groaned, rubbing his growing erection against Jace’s hip. “I wanna know how it feels.”

“Fuck,” Jace hissed, finally removing his hands from where they had been tightly fisted in Lucas’ shirt to roughly grab his ass. “I’ll do it. I’ll do it, babe.”

Lucas let his hand explore under Jace’s shirt, deciding the rest of this conversation could happen later. “We can talk about specifics tomorrow.”

“Good. Because you’ve gone and got me rock hard right now—take care of it.”

“Ass,” Lucas said, smirking.

“Well, seeing as you’ve offered…”

~*~

The next week during the full moon found Lucas in the same place. He had been prepping himself for a while, working through various increasing sizes of dildos until he was fucking himself slow and deep on the one Jace swore was closest to his wolf form’s size. It was massive.

Lucas continued to neglect his dick, not wanting to cum before the big show. He hoped Jace would show up soon because he was absolutely throbbing and desperate at that point, shaking with nerves and the need to be filled with werewolf cock.

He shuddered in anticipation at the telltale scratching below the open window that signified his boyfriend’s arrival.

Jace’s large bulk blocked the bright moonlight from illuminating the room for a moment as he slunk in. He stood at the foot of the bed, breathing heavily as Lucas made a show of moaning and fucking himself open. His dark fur glistened and rippled over powerful muscles, and his bright golden gaze seemed feral and covetous. He growled lowly, possessively baring his large fangs. He was looking to claim.

Lucas’ eyes strayed downwards, watching as the werewolf’s huge cock unsheathed and filled. He sucked in a breath, clenching around the dildo at the sight of it already swelling a little at the base. Impossibly, his heart raced even quicker, throbbing away in his chest and making his painfully hard dick jump. God, he was so ready for that knot—and all that cum, and just that deep pounding. Oh, fuck he was ready. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Whining, he slowly removed the dildo, tossing it aside. He shakily got up on his knees and turned, lowering to all fours and presenting his lubed-up, stretched-open hole. He felt the ring of muscle begin to twitch, and heard Jace groan roughly.

The mattress dipped with a sudden weight, and Lucas gasped as he felt two big hairy hands grab his ass with zero trepidation. They squeezed once before pulling his cheeks apart. Jace’s claws didn’t break the skin, but pressed hard enough into the meat of Lucas’ skin to make themselves known. Just one hasty move would be enough to draw blood.

Lucas felt a hot, humid breath panting against his junk and backside. Before he was able to process anything, Jace’s wide, flat tongue licked a slow stripe up his taint and over his hole. Always an ass man in any form. Lucas didn’t mind indulging his boyfriend. Not one bit. He shivered, letting out a pitiful whimper and rocking back against the canine snout.

From there, Jace set about a surprisingly languid pace, not going beyond teasing him, refusing to have his tongue delve inside. It was just enough to keep Lucas away from the edge, keeping him horny and wanting more. It was maddening.

After an agonizing while, Jace abandoned this to lap at Lucas’ balls and give quick little wet flicks of his tongue along his aching shaft. What sounded close to a deep chuckle rumbled through his chest as Lucas’ soft moans became impatient. Enough indulging.

Lucas meant to spout a witty reprimand to tell his boyfriend to just get on with it, but his pleasure-addled brain—ever the cock-slut it was—could only think to let two breathy, needy words pass his lips.

“Fuck…me.”

Finally. Finally he felt the thick head of his boyfriend’s huge wolf cock, slick with precum, probing against his loose entrance. Lucas had to refrain from bucking his hips back and just taking the whole damn thing in one motion. Even he had the mind to know it would have to be slow at first. He didn’t have to like it though.

He took each inch like a goddamn champ until Jace was seated fully inside of him. They took a moment, letting Lucas get accustomed to it. It was so much better than the dildo. Just the heat of it turned him on so much, feeling it throb against his walls.

Jace was shaking, already panting in Lucas’ ear, hips twitching now and then as if his control was hanging by a thread.

Now. Lucas needed Jace to move now. As if reading his mind, Jace pulled back slowly before starting up a moderate thrust. The stretch was magnificent. With Jace’s girth and length, it was impossible for Lucas’ prostate to not be assaulted with every motion. Each thrust was punctuated by Lucas’ loud, unrestrained moans which quickly egged Jace onto building to a brutal pace.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. This is was Lucas had been dying for. Normally, he would be a lot more involved when he and his boyfriend fucked, moving back to meet his thrusts. But, now he was completely immobilized by pleasure underneath Jace’s weight. He had dropped onto his elbows, ass-up, unable to hold himself up anymore as Jace beared down on him.

Lucas could see Jace’s hands in his peripheral, one on either side of his head as his boyfriend braced his arms for leverage, slamming into him again and again. Again. Again. Again. Feral growls, snarls, and the odd bark sounded above him, and he could even feel a few drops of thick saliva falling onto the back of his neck and shoulders.

Lucas’ cock bounced hard, hot and heavy underneath him. He hadn’t even touched it, but he knew it was about ready to blow just from the rough pounding. The absolute monster inside of him stirring up his guts was bringing him rapidly towards orgasm. His chest heaved as intense pleasure raced through his veins thanks to his heart attempting to beat its way out of his ribs.

He thought he might pass out before it all came to a head, but then he was suddenly cumming with a broken cry. He clenched hard around Jace, practically screaming as his dick pumped out a massive amount of seed, drops falling everywhere as he was brutally fucked through his release.

Through the haze of pleasurable aftershocks, Lucas noticed that Jace had stopped and was backing off as if he thought this was over by a long shot. He managed to weakly grab onto the werewolf’s thick arm fur.

“W-wait,” he said shakily. “I still…still wanna feel that knot.”

Jace whimpered, nuzzling in between Lucas’ shoulders as if to say, “Are you sure?”

“Please,” Lucas begged.

With a gentleness that was strange compared to the feral fucking that had just occurred, Jace scooped Lucas up into his big, strong arms. He carefully laid him down on his back, letting his head and shoulders rest against the stupidly fluffy pillows. For a moment, Lucas thought his boyfriend was making an executive decision to stop—until he found Jace looming over him again, nudging his thighs apart with his snout before situating himself between them.

Lucas chuckled. “Wanna see my fuck-face, huh?”

An impatient huff jerked Jace’s chest and his ears drew back. Lucas smoothed out the attitude by reaching up and running his hands through the soft fur of Jace’s head and face. A tenderness threatened to overtake the lust in Jace’s golden eyes, but within moments he was rocking his arousal against Lucas’ groin.

“Come on, then,” Lucas said, feeling his spent cock twitch once. “Fuck me ‘til you cum.”

Jace obliged immediately, returning to Lucas’ raw heat in one quick movement that tore groans from each of them.

Lucas looked to where they connected and his eyes widened. In this new position, he could see his abdomen distending slightly, full of Jace’s stiff rod. He placed a shaky hand to it, feeling the back-and-forth movement under his skin.

“H-holy shit, Jace,” he gasped. His head fell back into the pillows as the revelation spurred his boyfriend back to his insane, deep plowing. The thrusts were becoming less and less coordinated. Not long now.

Lucas was way too oversensitive from cumming, but he didn’t care. It still felt way too damn good for him to give up. He needed to be knotted, to be flooded with cum, to be bred. Fuck.

It felt like the pleasure was driving Lucas mad. The rest of his body was almost numb, his brain only focusing on the sensation of being stuffed full over and over. The only thing that mattered in that moment was Jace’s dick. All he had to do was be a limp, pliant fuck-hole—just a werewolf’s cock-sleeve.

Jace impossibly sped up, and Lucas became a high-pitched moaning mess. His eyes rolled as his mouth gaped, drool flowing out the corners. The knot was fully formed, slightly stretching the rim of his ass with each thrust, but not entering. Close. So close. He couldn’t help the tears of pleasure that sprung to his eyes and ran down his face.

A long, drawn-out, rough growl rumbled through Jace’s chest, and as he gave one last hard thrust, the knot popped in.

At the exact same moment, Lucas’ second orgasm slammed into him like a cinder block. His back arched and every muscle seemed to lock him in place as he violently shook. He could scarcely hear his own wailing moans and Jace’s snarls over his heart pounding in his ears.

His limp cock twitched pathetically through it, not managing more than a few drops. It was nothing compared to Jace’s which pulsed rapidly inside of him, pumping load after load. His boyfriend’s hips jerked forward with each throb as if attempting to drive deeper and make sure every inch of his walls were painted white.

As the explosion of pleasure began to subside, Lucas devolved into quiet, hoarse whimpers. He breathed heavily, stroking Jace’s back as he continued to convulse and unload.  

Jace had collapsed onto Lucas, propped up slightly on his elbows so as not to smoother him with his weight. Their chests still heaved against each other, drawing in the musky scent of sex.

Lucas groaned at the continuing flood inside him—Jace was still cumming. Holding his boyfriend through his release, he actually blacked out.

He came to probably only a few moments later. Jace had rearranged them so they were both laying on their sides, chest to chest. They were still connected. Curious, he reached between them to feel his stomach, shivering as he felt a small, but significant bulge there. Full of cum. Maybe once the knot had deflated, he would be able to push it all out and have Jace lap it up. He had to suppress a moan at the thought.

For the time being, he buried his face in the wall of fur in front of him. Jace’s tree trunk of an arm snaked up to pull him closer, hot breath ghosting through his hair.

Lucas smiled—exhausted, but satisfied. “Same time next month, then?”

End

Masterlist

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

[easychan]

Through the Storm (m)

Chan x reader. Established relationship. 18+. CW : unprotected sex.

A flash of light, an angry thunder roaring through the heavy raindrops knocking on the window, and you were jolted awake from your sleep. Right cheek pressed to the pillow, warm, unlike the rest of your body that were in equilibrium with the temperature of the surrounding.

“Cold.” you muttered, hand blindly sweeping under the covers, looking for your primary source of warmth, of comfort. But the space next to you was bare and cold, indicating said person had not been there for a while.

You squinted, the darkness of the outside a clear sign of the time being way too early to leave the bed, the lack of light coaxing you to keep your eyes shut and resume resting. The coldness from the rain creeped into your skin, your body desperate for an embrace into a deep slumber.

But the angry storm outside had a different effect on you than it did on him.

Rubbing your eyes, you left the bed, in search for warmth and to provide comfort for him. The harsh lights coming from his makeshift studio stung your eyes, but the blurry figure, typing busily in his laptop, too engrossed in his work, was too beautiful for you to look away.

You walked towards him, the telltale sound of your feet scuffing through the floor making him spare a glance, a tired smile gracing his face. Standing behind him, you carefully wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. His shoulders tensed for a short while, before he relaxed under your touch.

“The storm woke you up?” you asked, voice muffled into his shirt. He smelled good, he always did. It was the lingering, faint smell of his cologne, but it was also just the familiarity, instantly making you feel safer around him.

“Mhm,” he nodded. “I couldn’t fall asleep in the first place, but when the storm started I gave up trying.”

“But you’re tired.. I can hear it in your voice..” you whined, feeling bad. You really could hear it in his voice, and if you could see his face you were sure there were creases under his eyes, from lack of sleep.

Gently, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He giggled, shuddering as he spoke, “Your lips are cold.”

“Yeah, I’m freezing.” You tightened your hold on him, slightly shivering when you felt the cold air on your legs, your sleeping shorts doing almost nothing to keep you warm.

Chan took your hands in his, rubbing them together to warm you up. You rested your chin on his shoulder, looking over to the paper strewn over the table. “New song?”

He blew hot air onto your hands, head cocked to the side slightly, “Hmm maybe?”

“Sing for me?”

He laughed, “Nice try, but no spoiler.”

“Not even for me?” you giggled, your breath tickling his neck.

"Don't want the neighbours to hear. You'll really get in trouble then."

Giving up with a roll of your eyes, you pecked him on the lips as you unwrapped your arms around his neck, pulling away, “Alright, alright.”

Sensing your movement, Chan held tighter onto your hand, “Where are you going?”

“It’s cold. You don’t want to sing for me,” you moved your gaze towards the window, “-the storm is so loud though. I’m pretty sure no one can hear anything but the storm for a while.”

You’re cold, I can’t sleep and the neighbors can’t hear us.

He gave you a lopsided smile, “You’re right.”

Tugging your hand, he directed you to walk towards his front, pushing his chair back slightly as he held you between him and his table, the back of your thighs meeting the wooden board. His hands were quick to find your thighs, running his fingers through the cold skin, effectively warming you up in more than one way.

“So cold..” He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your thigh, his hands now squeezing more aggressively. You tangled your fingers in his hair, immersing yourself in the feeling of his warm, large hands running through your cold skin.

He pressed a kiss to your thigh again, “Actually you were right.”

“Hmm?” You questioned, not quite sure you were following him.

Chan nestled his face deeper into you, “No one can hear us for a while.”

Tightening his grip, he started nipping on the soft skin of your inner thigh. You held your breath subconsciously, your hands now finding his firm shoulders.

Nipping, licking and sucking on your skin, he smiled, brazen as he felt you gradually warming up. He pulled back, looking at the faint marks he left, running his fingers over them as he gazed upwards to see you looking at him through hooded eyes.

He inched his face closer to your center, nuzzling his nose, brushing it over the wet patch forming on your shorts. He tugged his fingers into your shorts and pulled them down, with you obligingly kicking them off your legs.

He kissed your bare, sensitive core, briefly, teasingly and you shuddered, feeling everything in your system wavering. Holding your hips, he hoisted you up, sitting on his table. He pushed his chair forward, hands spreading your legs open and trapping himself between your legs.

Running his hand over your thighs, he looked at you with an unabashed smile, “I can’t spoil the song for you, but I can spoil you in another way.”

Your attempt at rolling your eyes got caught short as he delved in, kitten licks on your inner thighs, moving closer to your center. His hot breath was right in front of your opening, but he stopped moving, waiting until he heard your soft whines, begging for him, and then he pushed his face closer, tongue licking between your slit teasingly slow, the tip of his tongue ghosting over your clit.

Your thighs clamped around his head, and he grunted disapprovingly, pushing your legs back open and wrapping his arms under you thighs, the sheer strength forcing them to stay opened. He licked between your folds again, the sound sinful to your own ears, the occasionally rumbling thunder adding to the intensity of your drumming heartbeat.

A soft groan escaped you the moment you felt his tongue prodding your entrance, the deft muscle tasting your walls at various angles, and you squirmed in his hold, your fingers now finding purchase and tensing in his curls. His lips moved an inch upwards, pressing a kiss to your clit before gently sucking on it. Your response was almost instant, back arching, moans leaving your lips, wiggling your hips closer to his face.

Pausing, you felt him smirking as you slowly grinded against his face, desperate to feel any sort of friction. He sighed into your core, before claiming your clit back in his mouth and sucking again, this time carefulness thrown out of the window, catching you offguard. You tugged on his hair, a little bit harsher that you intended and he grunted, the vibration to your bud going straight to the pit of your stomach, and you felt the familiar fire coursing through your body, your hips rolling as you came, moaning his name through your high.

Chan stood up, letting go of your thighs and rubbing your the skin over it gently. You took off your shirt eyes on him as he stood in front of your panting figure, placing his hand in the small of your back, hovering over you, pushing you down slowly to lean backwards, until you laid flat on his table, his face right above yours.

He kissed you, knocking the air out of your lungs as he inserted his tongue inside your mouth, and you smiled, tiredly kissing him back, tasting yourself as your tongues swirled together. Your hand travelled from his chest, downwards until your palm was flat on his abdomen.

Chan groaned, shifting his leg, and you felt his erection pressing into your thigh. You blindly reached down and tugged, freeing him from the confinements of his pants, his warm, thick member heavy on your skin.

He kissed you deeper, groaning into you as he felt your fingers, lithe on his erection, slowly pumping him, your thumb grazing his tip every now and then. He nibbled on your bottom lip, and you shuddered, both your eyes shut as you got trapped in each other’s mazes, never wanting to leave.

A particularly bright light flashed once, followed by a deafening thunder, and your heart jumped against your ribs, your squeeze on him tightening as you pumped him faster as a response of shock, him hissing into the kiss from the stimulation.

He untangled your hand that was wrapped around his member, moving to kiss your collarbone, words hot and broken on your skin, “Can’t make a mess here.”

Gripping your hips, he positioned himself in front of you and pushed in, grunting with bated breaths, “Can’t let my releases spill through your small hand and drip on the floor.”

When his words became more vulgar than they usually were, you'd get goosebumps, as you knew it signalled the beginning of him losing control over himself. When Chan lost control, it made him fuck like an insatiable man. He'd take as much of you as he could, imprinting as much of him on you, cursing at the way his energy heightened when fucking you. Somehow there was a line between being compliant yet assertive and you were exactly there, on the line, laying down, inviting him to take what he wanted, but putting up your own fight, not fully yielding to him.

It drove him crazy. You drove him crazy.

His pace had your senses going haywire, barely able to focus on one sound, between his low groans, your whimpers, the wild storm outside and the dirty sounds of your skins meeting each other’s. Somehow in the midst if it all, you could still make out the sound of his pens rolling down to the floor, the table shaking with every snap of his hips.

Standing up, he splayed his hand on your lower belly, pressing down to keep you in place as he continued ramming into you. Your hands grasped onto your own breasts, stopping them from bouncing with every thrust, squeezing them to pleasure yourself even more. You heard him cursing under his breath, “Fuck, look at how beautiful you look, and how good you feel around me.”

Your hand traveled south, but Chan beat you to it, as he pressed his thumb on your bud and rubbed circles into it, the stimulation from the delicious spots both inside and outside of you causing you to let out a particularly sharp moan, clenching around him. He bucked his hips upwards, and you clawed at his hand, gripping onto his wrist, losing control.

“That’s it love, cum for me, let me know how good I make you feel.”

Struggling to hold on any longer, a series of whines escaped you, each only causing him to snap his hips harder. And then you felt it again, the warm feeling spreading through your body, your eyes seeing tiny sparks, your walls convulsing around him, drawing out more broken grunts.

When you opened your eyes, Chan was still thrusting in and out of you, chasing his own high. You squirmed, whining from the discomfort of overstimulation, reaching out to take his hand in yours. You entwined your fingers together, eyebrows knitted to hold yourself together for a few more seconds just for him.

The sight of you so fragile, already disintegrated in front of him yet adamant on holding on a bit more for him tipped him over the edge, hips stuttering as he reached his own climax.

His fingers dug deeper into your pelvic as he released into you in warm spurts, chest heaving with his head hung low to catch his breath again. When his hold on you loosened, you sat up, bodies still connected as one, wrapping your legs around his waist as he picked you up, bringing the both of you back to the bed.

Looking him in the eyes, a smile formed on your lips as you whispered, "The storm has stopped.”

Chan yawned, fatigue fully taking over his system now, “Great, it’s perfect for cuddling now.”

You laid facing each other, him playing with your hair, you drawing circles on his arm, “Get some rest.”

“Okay.”

[mrsmaybank]

Tate Langdon x Reader 18+

“Daddy?” Tate playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?”

A/N: In honor of me rewatching Murder House, here’s some absolutely disgusting dead people sex. I know Tate is a horrible person, but he’s incredibly sexy.  Sorry. He could kill me. LOL GIRL ANYWAYS SOOOOO... Also, does anybody know where I can find more stories like this? I could literally only find like two good ones. I barely write smut and I didn’t reread this so if it sucks, well my bad. Anyways, I hope you guys like! 

TW: SMUT VERY VERY NSFW, DADDY KINK, HEAVY DEGRADATION, DEAD PEOPLE?, DRUGS, SPITTING KINK?? LITERALLY EVERYTHING, DON’T READ IT IF YOU’RE NOT INTO THIS KINDA STUFF! 

TATES POV 

“Only reason I haven’t killed her yet is so I can jack off to her while she showers.” I smiled as Y/N walked through the front door and up to her room. I was kidding of course. There was many things I wanted to do to her and murder her was not one. 

“You’re a sick little fuck.” Hayden scoffed and walked away. 

“You’re a whore. With daddy issues. Fucked an old married guy.” I whispered to myself. The house was “empty” now. Just me and Y/N. She was the only living soul there. Her parents were out, doing what I could care less. 

I followed Y/N up to her room. She was sitting on the floor behind her bed, perched on the window sill, shoving pinches of grinded weed into a bowl. Her hair was a mess per usual. A wild but perfect mess of hair. I wondered if the ‘I-just-got-fucked’ look was on purpose, or she was naturally disheveled. She took off her sweater and grabbed a lighter from her purse, leaving her in a tiny black tank-top that left just the perfect amount to the imagination. Good god. Her tits looked sculpted by Satan himself, tasked to taint the minds of all thy tempted. I did my best to take a mental note of the sight. Her perfect lips attaching to the pipe, her chest rising and lowering with every inhale and exhale of smoke. “Fuck.” I sighed. 

She twitched. Fuck she heard. I wasn’t paying attention to whether or not I was allowing her to hear me. She laughed to herself. “Fuck, I’m tweaked.” She plopped herself on the bed, my bed. And played a song on her laptop. It wasn’t music I was familiar with. It was probably new, but it was good. Very good actually. I confirmed she had good music taste when she hung up a poster of Kurt Cobain in her closet. I’d also heard her tell her friends she couldn’t wait to go to hell to fuck him. Her family was devout catholic. It’s weird though--it seems she believes everything the church says. However, the amount of disgusting things I witness that girl do on a daily basis leads me to believe she gets a kick outta being a sinner. She’s a pothead, once coke-whore, communist, cocksucking, intrepid, audacious bitch and yet--she’s beautiful and clever and kind to those who deserve it. I like her very much. I watched with wide eyes as her hand moved to her perfect tit, grabbing it harshly and massaging it until a tiny moan made its way out of her mouth. I wanted nothing more than to stop her, punish her for being a little slut and take her in every way I wanted, but obviously I could not. She slid her hand into her pants, moaning at the sensation of her own fingers. Jesus fuck. 

I walked to her door. Opened it. Stood on the other side, closed it, appeared and knocked. “Dad?” she practically screamed. Not quite. 

“No,” I laughed, opening the door to let myself in, “Neighbor.” I pretended to look surprised at her messy hair and big eyes. 

“Did I interrupt something?” I questioned. 

“No.” she said firmly. “But you’re not my neighbor.” 

“Yes I am. I live in the house behind you. Makes you my neighbor.” 

“How’d you get in?” She was scared, but not surprised. 

“Someone left the back door open.” I bumped my head to the guitar of the song. 

“This is great. Whose the artist?” 

“Uh, Arctic Monkeys.” I laughed, “What a weird name. They’re good though.” 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

“Yeah. What’s your name? I’m Tate.” 

“Y/N.” 

I got closer to the bed where she sat. Looking down at her as she looked up to me with doe eyes. “Y/N,” I tucked a hair behind her ear, “Are you--” 

She grabbed my face and stuck her tongue down my throat. Horny little bitch. I pulled her hair back and detached her face, she needed to be put in her place. “God fuck Y/N.” She laughed and I laid her down on the bed, crawling on top of her. I smiled at her as she  tugged on my shirt. “You’re such a bad girl. You’re really, really bad.” I kissed her this time, it was passionate and she would not stop tugging on the hem of my long-sleeve. I stopped for a second, panting. I went to kiss her lips again, but I changed my mind. I kissed her jaw instead, leaving sloppy kisses down her neck as she whimpered and mumbled. I was so busy with marking her neck I didn’t notice her hand slide down to grip me, that is, until I did. I moaned into the kiss, until she pulled away to whisper in my ear. “Fuck me daddy.” She smiled devilishly back at me. 

“Daddy?” I playfully questioned, “Does that make you my little girl?” 

“Yeah,” she laughed. “Now fuck me.” This time it was my turn to laugh, “No.” I pushed her back down and continued to kiss her. Exploring her mouth as I pleased until I pleased. I got up, dramatically taking off her pants to reveal the cutest, daintiest, black little panties. 

“These are adorable.” I played with the hem, “Absolutely adorable.” She whimpered in desperation, “Please. Do something already.” 

I traced my fingers lightly on her clothed cunt, noting the wetness that had gathered. I removed her tank top to reveal her bare tits, and god, how great it was to finally touch them. I made my way up her body, kissing up her stomach until I got to the place I wanted to be. I took one in my mouth and the other in my hand as she writhed under me in pleasure. Moaning and panting all ‘cause of me. It was cute. While my mouth continued it’s assault on her literally godly boob, I used the other hand to dip into her--soaking--pussy. “Fuuuckkk.” she threw her head back in ecstasy. 

“You’re dripping like you’ve never been touched.” I told her. She only continued to whimper in response. I made her cum twice before I was so hard I thought I might finish before even getting inside. 

I kissed her lovingly, her lips were swollen and there were tears in her eyes. “Is it too much baby?” I teased her clit before she could respond, she twitched but then to my surprise gained her senses. “Fuck me. Now.” 

“Okay.” I aligned and entered. “Jesus christ.” I could barely speak. “You’re so,” I thrusted hard, “Fuck!”, I went deeper, “Tight.” I wanted, I swear to god I tried to be gentle at first, but between the absolute desire I had for this girls perfect body, the sound of her cute little whimpers and curses, the ripping my hair out, the fucking tightness of her pussy--I couldn’t. I rammed into that girl over and over, harder every time. She was purring like a little kitten, tightening around me every time I called her a little slut. She opened her mouth, practically an invitation for me to spit in it. 

I slowed to a stop, my dick still completely inside her. She was a mess of course, a needy little mess that needed me to keep going, “Hey,” I calmed her down, “Hey.” I used a hand to gently caress her forehead. “Open your mouth.” She opened wide and I spat. Right in her mouth. She swallowed it. 

I bottomed out and thrusted back into her and she screamed. “You needed to swallow something didn’t you?” She tightened and whimpered, “Hm?”, she clenched again moaning, but I wanted an answer. “Whore?” I shouted, fucking into her with literally every bone in my body. 

“Yes, yes, please. I’m gonna--” That’s when my evolutionary senses took over and I felt the overwhelming need to fucking nut as deep in her as possible. I pushed into her deeper, feeling her walls spasm around me, “You want me to cum don’t you? Your pussy wants it. It’s practically milking my--” She clenched a final time and I fell into the ecstasy of orgasm. I fucked it into her a while, she came again. And all I could do was giggle to myself as I laid on her bare chest. Her painted black nails scratched at my scalp. 

“Hey, Y/N? I’m dead.” 

“Hey Tate? Me too.” 

I got up to look her in the eyes, she was serious, and I was confused. As fuck.

[seijorhi]

Outrunning Fate

As promised (though I am more than a little late for Shiratorizawa Week), the soulmate AU

Tendou x female reader x Ushijima

TW stalking, possessive behaviour, implied non-con

Soulmates were supposed to be a blessing.

It was a fairytale that you’d grown up hearing about. One person who was supposed to be wholly yours.

Your parents were soulmates, even if you hadn’t always understood the concept, the proof of that remarkable, unshakable bond was always right in front of you. It wasn’t in the big grand gestures, it was little things - the soft, adoring look in your father’s eye as your mother passed him his coffee every morning, the way she always sought out his touch when they were together, even if it was just to twine her fingers with his, or the way that they always seemed to be able to sense when the other was upset, and wordlessly found the perfect way to comfort them.

Your father never had to tell you that he loved your mother, but he did, every single day. He told her too, just to see her smile.

It seemed effortless, easy, as if their love for one another was as natural as breathing. How could you be blamed for looking at your bare wrist, waiting for the day that name would appear in scrawling black ink, feeling that excited fluttering in your chest because you knew one day you’d meet your soulmate and have that perfect, fairytale love all for yourself.

Except it wasn’t like that.

Something went wrong.

***

You’re fifteen and barely paying attention in class when your skin prickles uncomfortably. Your heart leaps into your chest as you tug up the sleeve off your blazer, watching wide eyed with bated breath as a name appears on your wrist.

Tendou Satori.

The beginnings of a smile start to curl at your lips, but it freezes in place as more inky black writing appears below the first.

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A second name. 

And suddenly, it feels like your perfectly crafted world begins to fall apart. Two soulmates aren’t unheard of, but they’re incredibly rare and you can’t deny that there’s a certain… stigma attached to it. 

What kind of a person isn’t satisfied with just one? 

This is supposed to be some magical, thrilling moment for you, but instead all you can focus on is the pounding of your heart and the growing wave of nausea that rises in the back of your throat. Quickly you yank your sleeve back down and before you can even think to stutter an apology to your bewildered teacher, you’re out of your seat and sprinting down the hallway to the bathroom. You barely make it before hurling up your guts. 

After that, you start wearing long sleeves wherever you go.

It’s not that you’re ashamed, you tell yourself as you bite your lip and try your utmost to fade into the background whenever the topic comes up in conversation, it’s just that… other people aren’t always so accepting.

You’ve tried to get used to the disgusted looks, the invasive questions and the insults that follow you wherever you go, but it’s easier said than done. You hate that your cheeks still burn scarlet whenever you catch someone staring at your marks, almost as much as you hate the way you quickly duck your head in shame and race to fix your sleeve.

‘It’s okay, honey. I know it’s not what you expected but… it just means there’s one more person out there waiting to love you with everything they have. You’re twice as lucky as the rest of us,’ your father had told you on that horrible day. You just wished it hadn’t sounded like he was trying to convince himself at the same time.

***

You’re seventeen and the first boy who kisses you tries to shove your hand down his pants because he knows you’ve got two names on your wrist, and that means you’re up for anything, right?

You run home with tears streaming down your face and when you shower that night you scrub at the marks like you’re trying to erase them entirely.

What did having two names mean really? That one wasn’t enough? Would they be content sharing you? Would they even know of the other’s existence?

You could only imagine how horrifying it would be for them, spending months, years waiting for you only to realise that they didn’t really have all of you…

Would they hate you? Could you even blame them if they did?

Sometimes… sometimes you think it might be better if you didn’t have a soulmate at all, instead of this. It’s easier just to ignore it, pretend they don’t exist, pretend that you’re not gonna ruin their lives. Who knows, maybe you’ll be one of those few who never actually meet their soulmates. You can live with that, you think. You have a family who love you, a bunch of close friends who’d die for you - who needs stupid soulmates?

***

It’s the morning after your 18th birthday, your head is still pounding from the alcohol and bad decisions from the night before when your curiosity finally gets the better of you. It’s the modern age, most people live their lives online, you figure you’ll find a facebook page, a twitter account maybe.

Instead, the first item that comes up in your search is a video. It’s a news segment about a volleyball game - some high school team that you’ve never heard of, but you listen to the commentator talk and your heart leaps into your throat because they mention the Ace by name and suddenly there he is. Tall, dark haired and imposing - Ushijima Wakatoshi.

But you don’t even have a moment to breathe, to focus on the absolute beast that is your second soulmate and his terrifying spike because the camera shifts and suddenly there’s another player in focus. Tall, gangly with bright, spiky red hair and a too-wide grin, “-not the only player in the spotlight after today’s match; Shiratorizawa’s middle blocker, the so called ‘Guess Monster’ Tendou Satori-”

You close the browser window and slam your laptop shut.

They’re… friends, or teammates at the very least.

It feels like a bad dream you can’t wake up from. This whole thing is already messy enough, but you can’t get in the middle of that, you refuse to make everything worse for them just because the fates have decided to play a cruel joke on you.

If there were any lingering doubt left in your mind that you’re better off burying your soulmates, they’re well and truly put to bed.

That night, you dream of a cheering crowd, the thwack of a volleyball ricocheting off a vinyl floor and two menacing figures looming over you.

With your final exams around the corner, it’s almost too easy to put the video and your soulmates out of your mind as you throw yourself into studying. Months pass in the blink of an eye and suddenly you’re dressed in black robes and holding your high school diploma. You celebrate with your friends, dancing wildly with a care-free grin long into the night because you know you’re finally getting out of there for good. Tokyo’s a big city, you’ll lose yourself there and nobody, not a single damned soul, will know about the two names that grace your wrist. It’s as close to freedom as you’re ever gonna get - and god that makes you so fucking happy.

Your bags are packed and you’re holding your parents as they sob and then, like that, you’re gone. 

Tokyo awaits.

***

It’s not that easy to outrun fate.

Living in Tokyo ain’t cheap, even for the shitty little shoebox apartment you rent while you’re studying. You manage to find a job at one of the Americanised diner style cafes just down the road from where you live two weeks after moving in. It’s popular with students because it’s open till late, the coffee’s good and the waffles are exactly what the doctor ordered after a long night of drinking with your friends. You’re just happy because the pay’s pretty decent and your boss lets you bring in your laptop and textbooks so you can study when it’s not too busy. You’re not nearly as thrilled about the short, revealing blue dress that serves as your uniform, but you know when to pick your battles.

It’s a little after one o’clock on a slow Tuesday night, the cafe’s almost empty and you’re propped up on your elbows along the countertop, absentmindedly thumbing through one of your assigned readings for class tomorrow when you hear the tell-tale chime of the door opening.

You hastily shove your books aside, plastering a wide if not a little artificial smile across your face, you glance up to greet the customers, only to freeze in place.

Your heart skips a beat.

Of all the cafes in the sprawling city, of course your soulmate has to walk into this one.

With his wild, spiked red hair and easy, sloping grin, Tendou’s unmistakable as he strides through the cafe with two other guys you can only assume are his friends. You suppose you should be a little relieved that he barely spares you a glance as the threesome make a beeline for one of the corner booths, but it’s hard to feel anything other than blind panic at the sight of your soulmate only a few feet away. It’s purely out of habit that you reach for your wrist and the skin coloured bandage hiding your traitorous marks, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief when you feel it still in place.

A loud cackle bursts through the quiet atmosphere of the cafe and you dart a glance over to see Tendou with his head thrown back laughing at something one of the others has said. There’s an uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach and your cheeks redden just a touch. It’s not an awful sound (not at all), but your pulse is racing and you think you just might be sick because this is all… too much.

You’d left them in the past along with whatever fairytale fantasies you thought having a soulmate would bring. You… you’re happy being alone and coping just fine without either one of them! They were a dream - a distant possibility you’d long since locked away, you weren’t supposed to ever actually see them!

At least it’s only Tendou, you think you might actually combust if they were both here. Still, there’s a faint tremor in your hand as you brush a lock of hair out of your face and try to regain control of your breathing.

As much as you’d like to run, or preferably, have the earth suddenly open up and swallow you whole, you know you can’t. For one, you’re the only server left until close and your boss might be easy going but somehow you doubt he’d let you keep your job after a stunt like that. More importantly, you have a sinking suspicion that causing a fuss will only draw his attention and that’s the last thing you want. He doesn’t know who you are, your mark is safely tucked away under your bandages, this will be fine.

It’s an hour and a half until close, he and his friends will get some food, eat, drink and chat amongst themselves and then you can kick them out and it’ll all be over. You barely have to interact with him. For all he knows you’re just a server in a random cafe - this will be fine.

Robotically you force your legs to move, carrying you towards your oblivious soulmate. You’re pretty sure that your smile’s a little off and you haven’t quite managed to quell the shaking in your hands as you reach for your notepad, flipping it open.

It’s the best you can do, especially when there’s a voice inside your head that’s all but begging for you to turn around and pretend this whole thing never happened. 

Tendou appears to be thoroughly engrossed in whatever story he’s telling his friends, waving his arms around wildly when you reach their table. Normally you’d clear your throat politely and wait for them to settle down before introducing yourself and asking for their order, but when you open your mouth - nothing comes out. It’s like your whole throat has suddenly dried up and you’re just standing there gaping like an idiot, but Tendou hasn’t even noticed.

The ashy blonde to his left, however, does. His eyes flicker to you and you swear that you can see the faintest trace of amusement as he takes you in. He smirks, quickly shoving an elbow into the redhead’s side and jerking his chin in your direction. 

“Hey loudmouth, pipe down would you?”

Your breath catches as he turns around to look up at you and grins, “Ah, sorry. Didn’t see ya there!” 

The other two have picked up their menus again, but for whatever reason just as Tendou’s gaze starts to slide off of you, something catches his attention and stops him in his tracks. Like a magpie spotting something shiny in the distance, those big, droopy red eyes suddenly widen and zero back in with unnerving interest. Frozen with that fake, half hearted smile painted across your lips you feel strangely like a bug caught under a microscope as Tendou studies you - there’s really no other way to describe it. His head tilts to the side and he makes a low noise from the back of his throat that almost sounds pleased.

He can’t know, there’s no possible way, but if he doesn’t then why the hell is he staring at you like that?

It’s all you can do to remain rooted in place, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs that you’re sure they have to be able to hear it too. Whatever he’s searching for he apparently finds because his grin widens and he leans back in his seat and chuckles. “Why’d you look so nervous, we’re not gonna bite - promise!” 

The other guy at the table rolls his eyes, “Tendou, don’t scare the pretty waitress, she’s just trying to do her job,” he chastises, offering you an apologetic smile that does little to ease your nerves. “Don’t mind him, he’s an idiot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

You swallow and hum in faint acknowledgment, and he takes that as a sign to begin his order. 

You were hoping that they were just going to get some drinks and be out of your hair, but as he starts listing off various snacks and appetizers to share and the ashy blonde throws out a few more, it looks like your nightmare is only just beginning.

You nod dutifully, writing it all down. The cook is just going to love you for this, but there’s not a whole lot you can do about it. “Anything else?” you ask in a voice that just barely passes for what your boss deems ‘customer service appropriate’, decidedly not looking towards the redhead who is still staring at you.

He hasn’t looked at the menu once since you walked over, actually you doubt he’s looked at the menu at all, but it doesn’t seem to matter because he pipes up regardless, “Yep, one of those thickshakes, you know - the really good strawberry one, annnd-”

“Y/N, order up!!”

Your soul leaves your body at the exact same moment that Tendou’s pupils dilate and snap to your wrist.

The pen in your hand is shaking, your grip so tight that it’s a wonder the flimsy plastic doesn’t shatter as you turn to glance over your shoulder. The cook is leaning out across the overpass, staring at you with a scowl and vaguely you register the hot plate of food in front of him which can’t have been sitting there for more than a minute at the most. You give a weak nod, earning you a dismissive grunt in response, before turning back to the table.

All three of them are staring wide eyed and open mouthed at you. 

Fuck. 

They know. They have to know.

You should have legged it when you had the chance.

Breathe. Smile. Play dumb. This is fine.

“A-anything el-”

“Somethin’ wrong with your wrist?” Tendou asks slowly, eyeing the bandage like he wants nothing more than to snatch it up and rip it away from you. His fingers flex and you don’t even have time to brace before they’re shooting out towards you-

A hand catches his forearm before he can touch you - it’s his friend, the dark haired one with the crew cut, who’s currently staring down the erratic redhead with a distinct frown. 

It’s the blonde who speaks up, “Sorry, he’s had a few drinks tonight. The idiot sometimes forgets his manners in public.”

The music is still playing in the background, somebody laughs at the table a few down from theirs, but in this little pocket, trapped between the three of them with the tension thick enough to slice with a knife, the silence is oppressive.

And then Tendou’s attention shifts back to you and your stomach flips - it’s like the floor has disappeared beneath your feet and you’re suddenly careening through the empty air with no hope in hell of slowing down.

He looks… well, mad is the wrong word. Tendou is technically smiling, but his grin stretched slightly too wide, his eyes a little too intense. There’s an emotion you can’t name etched across his pale features, and it’s unsettling… it scares you a little, if you’re being honest.

You swallow and take a tiny, shaking breath. “I-it’s fine. I tripped last week and sprained it.”

“Clumsy, are you?” he asks, prying himself free of his friend’s grip.

A laugh forces its way out, grating and too sharp to be believable. “Yeah, I guess. Your food won’t be too long, if you need anything else, just- just let me know.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond as you all but flee the table. You’re shaking and almost in tears by the time you reach the kitchen, the cook takes one look at you, a grumpy admonishment on the tip of his tongue, and falters.

They stay until close, and you avoid them like the plague.

Hours later, lying tucked up in your bed your skin still prickles from the thought of Tendou’s piercing stare. Maybe if you’d kept some kind of a level head through it all instead of acting like a flustered school girl, he might have just passed it all off as a coincidence. 

But you hadn’t, had you?

It wasn’t just that he knew who you were to him (and to Ushijima) but that after all your blushing and stammering, the pitiful attempts at hiding your soulmate marks and the way you all but ran from him the very first moment you could, he had to know that you knew as well. That despite coming face to face with your soulmate, you lied - you rejected him.

You mom once told you that the first time she laid eyes on her soulmate the world stopped spinning and all she felt was joy. Maybe there’s something wrong with you after all, because despite the insistent tug in your heart, you just feel sick. Despite being exhausted after your long shift, sleep that night doesn’t come easy.

It’s two days later that you find yourself back in the cafe, working a rare day shift on your only week-days off from classes. You keep glancing up at the door every few minutes, half dreading the possibility that any moment, Tendou and his friends are going to walk in, but they don’t. 

Ushijima does, a little after the lunch rush dies down.

He looks so out of place against the vibrant backdrop of the 50’s style diner, all serious and stoic, that if he were anybody else you might think he was lost. 

But he isn’t lost, because he’s staring right at you.

You don’t notice one of your co-workers sliding up to you until they laugh and playfully nudge your side. “Ah, I see the eye candy is back. Try and pick up your jaw, Y/N,” they tease.

Back?

Instead of finding an empty table to sit himself down at (and give you a minute to mentally prepare) Ushijima is making his way straight over to the counter, unsmiling and huge. How was he even bigger in person?! He could crush you with his thighs alone!

“He’s been here before?” you ask quietly, unable to draw your gaze away from him. 

Your co-worker snorts. “Yeah, he came in last night, he even asked for you by name. Seemed kinda disappointed when I told him you weren’t on until today. You holding out on me, Y/N? I thought we were closer than that. You know you’re supposed to tell me when you start dating a hot ass dude!”

They slip away with a wink before you even have a chance to respond and you’re left floundering as Ushijima approaches. Your mouth is dry, your pulse racing. Just like with Tendou, you have no escape, nowhere you can run or hide.

He asked for you by name.

Fuck. You should have quit when you had the chance.

Ushijima isn’t smiling. Where Tendou had been beaming with chaotic energy from the moment he walked in, your second soulmate seems almost stony as he stares at you with serious olive eyes. You honestly can’t tell if he’s frowning or if that’s just the way his face is, but it makes your gut twist regardless. 

It might also be the fact that he’s towering over you without even trying to. He has to be at least 6’3” but it’s not just his height that’s imposing - he’s brawny and muscular and, yeah, huge. Briefly you remember the news clip you’d seen of him, the terrifying brute force behind his spike. 

He seems to be waiting for you to speak, so you swallow down the lump in your throat and try to remember how to breathe like a normal person. “Hi, can I get you anything?”

Something briefly flickers across his face, but otherwise his expression remains distressingly neutral. “… I would like some tea.”

You nod - it’s like pulling teeth. “Yeah, sure. We uh, we actually have a few different kinds…”

He makes a rough noise of acknowledgement and then… pauses. Instead of the menu, Ushijima studies you. His lips twitch into the faintest hint of a… smile? You can’t quite tell, but it looks out of place regardless. “I will have whichever you recommend.”

You can’t seem to be able to form words, so you settle with nodding, gesturing for him to take a seat while he waits. 

His eyes don’t shift from you, nor does he make any attempt to mask the fact that he’s staring right at you. When his tea is ready, you all but beg your co-worker to take it to him. 

“Trouble in paradise?” they ask, waggling their eyebrows.

“It’s not like that,” you mutter, but they take the tea regardless, and you busy yourself in wiping down tables and pretending that you can’t see the scowl from the volleyball player burning across the diner. 

It really isn’t. 

Even after tucking any thought of meeting your soulmates away there was always some tiny part of you - a part you were always so desperate to ignore - that wondered how it would feel to meet them, to be loved by them…

But while your heart squeezes with every glance, it’s not warm, dizzying bliss that floods your system and sends blood rushing to your cheeks. You don’t know what the feeling is that curls in your stomach and claws its way up your spine, but it’s nothing good. 

Something went wrong with you, this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

Ushijima stays for an hour, finishes his tea and makes his way back to the counter to pay. 

He's wearing a grey hoodie, running gear underneath, and when he hands you the money, passing it directly into hands, his sleeve rides up. There, plain as day, is his soulmate mark.

Your name, written in black ink on Ushijima's wrist, forever marking you as his.

You jerk, flinching away from him, but he doesn’t make a move to cover it. 

“You cannot run from us, Y/N. We are your soulmates, we’re bound together.” His voice is little more than a murmur, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and pointed. Not so much a statement as a fact, as undeniable as your name on his skin, on Tendou’s.

He says it like it’s a promise, staring into your eyes with that impenetrable gaze and for a moment you forget how to breathe.

“Why are you so determined to fight it?”

You swallow, taking the cash from his hand and punching it into the till. “I’m sorry, whoever you think I am…” you trail off, finally raising your eyes to meet his penetrating stare. You’re quietly proud of the way your voice doesn’t shake, even as your heart races like a hummingbird in your chest and your palms sweat. “I’m not.”

The only sign that Ushijima hears you at all is the subtle furrowing of his brow and a distinctly displeased hum from the back of his throat. 

“I hope you enjoyed your tea.” The cutting barb slips from your lips before you can stop them, but there’s a certain vindictive satisfaction you get in watching his eyes widen, the brief hurt that flickers across his face. 

Of course, it only lasts a fraction of a second before his features school into a blank mask and he nods.

“Perhaps I will try another the next time I see you.”

And with a short bow, he walks away.

You leave your apron behind when you finish your shift at the diner, and you don’t come back.

There will be other jobs.

***

It’s not enough. 

They start showing around campus. 

The first time you catch sight of Tendou, you’re running between classing, cursing the ridiculous schedule that has you attending two back to back lectures on opposite sides of the campus. It’s just a glance - a flicker of red in the corner of your eye. The only reason you stop at all is because you're so focused on not being late that you fail to see the crack in the path until you’re tripping over it. The books in your hand go flying as you sprawl across the pavement.

“Huh, you really weren’t kidding about being clumsy, were ya?”

A pale hand stretches out before you, and just like with Ushijima, Tendou doesn’t bother hiding the soulmate mark as he grins down at you with those wide, creepy eyes. 

You ignore it entirely, waving it away as you pick yourself up with a grunt. The skin on one of your palms is grazed, and you’re pretty sure that your knees are too, but all in all it could be worse. It’s more your pride that smarts, that and the fact that of all people to see you trip, it has to be him.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby. I’m only try’na help you!”

You scowl, snatching your textbooks out of his offered hands. “I’m not your baby, Tendou,” you mutter.

You regret the words immediately. His grin slowly widens and he makes a sound, somewhere between a shudder and a moan - it’s almost pornogaphic and wholly inappropriate and it sends blood rushing to your cheeks, but you don’t have time to think about it. 

“I’m already late, just-” you break off with a sigh, readjusting the strap of your backpack, staring resolutely at the ground. “I’m not what you want, what… what either of you want. Just leave me alone, okay?!”

Tendou doesn’t say a word as you walk away, but just like always you feel the burning stare following you until you’re out of sight. 

Somewhat stupidly, you think that’ll be the end of it. The gloves are off - you might not have said it in as many words, but there’s no point denying it any longer. They are your soulmates and it doesn’t change a thing.

There is something wrong with your bond.

But they don’t see it like that. 

They figure out your schedule, take it in turns to wait outside your classes, ambushing you whenever you’re alone. 

“I have a game tomorrow,” Ushijima tells you on a rainy Thursday afternoon as he follows you home. “I would like for you to come.”

It doesn’t seem to bother him that you walk a few steps ahead (or try to at least - his legs are ridiculously long) with your head bent down, ignoring the steady rainfall that threatens to saturate you. Tendou usually fights for your attention, grabs at your hands, your waist, any part he can reach just to touch you, but Ushiwaka seems content to merely be near - so long as you stray too far.

“I have exams to study for.”

He hums noncommittally, “Tendou will be there.”

All the more reason not to go. 

The silence between you two is heavy.

“It would make me… happy, if you came,” he tries again.

Your eyes squeeze shut for just a moment. You hate it when he does this, when he acts like you’re the one being stubborn. Like you haven’t told him, told them both to stop a thousand times before. Like they haven’t ignored it at every turn, blatantly refused to acknowledge that you don’t want them like they want you.

Shouldn’t ‘no’ have been enough?

You’ve considered reporting it to campus security, or even the police, maybe trying to get a restraining order or something like that, but what would you even say - ‘Please Officer, sir, my soulmates are stalking me’? Yeah, that’ll go down a real fucking treat. 

“Why…” you trail off with a sigh, forcing yourself to stop walking.

This time he does reach for you, taking your hand in his. It’s warm and rough from years of volleyball and hard work, and you hate that it’s already so familiar. His expression is as stoic as ever, but there’s a quiet reverence in his eyes as he looks at you, as if he can’t quite believe you’re really there with him. You suppose in another light, it might almost look romantic, the two of you holding hands under his umbrella, lost in your own little world as the rain pours down around you.

He seems to be waiting for you to finish your thought, so you buck up whatever dregs of courage you still have and try again, “Why can’t you just… move on? I don’t want this- this thing, whatever it is between us.” You sigh, tugging your hand back, “I just want to be alone, why can’t you respect that?!”

He doesn’t answer for a long moment, staring at you, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the back of your palm.

But then he shrugs, easily, as if you’re merely discussing the weather and not their continued overbearing and unwanted presence in your life. “We love you. More than anything, and despite your… reservations, we belong together, what other reason does there need to be?” He pauses, his gaze softening just a fraction, “You’ll come around eventually,” he adds.

A tiny part of you crumples at that. What’s the use in arguing with a brick wall?

***

It’s a minor relief when you walk out of your last lecture for the day the following afternoon. It might be because it’s a Friday and you, for once, have absolutely no plans for the weekend, but realistically it’s more to do with the fact that you know no one is waiting for you outside. Ushijima has his volleyball game, and Tendou will be there with him, cheering from the sidelines. 

You should be happier, really, but there’s a pit in your stomach that’s been there since Ushijima left you at your door last night. 

They’re not going to stop. 

Instead of listening to the professor talk, you’ve spent the last three hours searching university transfers. You love Tokyo University, you love Tokyo - the big, bustling city you’d gladly lose yourself in again and again, but it can’t be your home, not when they’re here too.

There’s a University in Kyoto, it has a similar program to the one you’re already in. It’s a surprisingly easy process to change - your grades are decent enough, all you have to is apply. One simple click of a button. It’ll take a few weeks for it all to go through, which’ll give you enough time to figure out how you’re gonna upend your entire life without them realising - assuming of course that Kyoto university accepts the request.

If you soulmates won’t let you go, you’ll run, and you’ll keep running. Maybe you’re wrong, maybe one day you’ll look back at them and feel that same love for them that you’d seen in your parents instead of that black, cloying unease that twists at your guts, but so long as they don’t give the choice, what options do you have?

You’re not stupid, this… thing that they’re doing, the stalking, monopolising your time, trying to drive your friends away, it’s not the end game. What happens when they get tired of you ignoring them?

“Hey, Y/N wait up!”

For a moment your heart seizes, but it calms almost immediately when you realise the voice isn’t the one you’re afraid of. 

You turn to find one of the guys from your last lecture walking over. He’s kinda cute, in a lost puppy kind of way, and he’s nice, for the three conversations you’ve actually had with him. Honestly you’re a little surprised he actually knows your name (considering you’ve definitely forgotten his) but you smile back regardless. “Hey, what’s up?”

“You doing anything tonight?”

Netflix and crashing early, but you’re hardly about to tell him that, “Not much, why?”

He smiles, and for a moment you’re taken aback by just how utterly endearing it is. He really is cute. “Me and a few friends are having a party tonight, you’re uh, you’re welcome to come. Y’know, if you’re not doing anything,” he says with a laugh, throwing in a wink for good measure.

But his smile fades a little as he catches a glimpse of something behind you. You frown at the odd reaction, turning instinctively to see what drew his attention when a weight drapes across your shoulders and you find yourself being pulled into a sideways embrace.

“There you are, baby! I was starting to think you’d gotten lost,” a familiar voice drawls. “Who’s your friend?”

You can’t see Tendou’s expression as he rests his chin on your shoulder, but from the way your classmate blanches you can imagine that it’s not pleasant. Still you have to give him credit, he only falters for a second before he’s rubbing the back of his neck and offering a sheepish smile, “Oh, hey, uh… yeah, I’m-”

“Punching a little above your weight, dont’cha think?” Tendou cuts him off with a snort, nuzzling in just a little closer. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear, “I thought Ushiwaka told you about the game tonight.”

You shiver, although whether it’s from his softly edged words or the kiss he presses against your cheek, you’re not entirely sure. “He did, I-I told him that I had to study…”

Tendou laughs, squeezing you tighter, “Psh, is that all? Baby, we can help you study later. C’mon, or we’re gonna miss the start of the game.”

And like that he’s tugging you away. With Tendou’s arm wrapped snugly around you, you don’t even have a chance to turn around and apologise to the guy. He’s done it purposefully, a reminder you suppose of who you belong to - though for your classmate’s benefit or yours you honestly don’t know. 

Ushijima’s already on the court by the time Tendou and you arrive at your seats (front row of course) but he glances over as you both settle down and his lips quirk into the faintest hint of a smile.

It would make me… happy, if you came, he’d said.

You don’t miss the razor sharp, anticipatory gleam in his eyes, though. 

He destroys the competition. You still remember that brief clip you’d seen years ago of his brutal spike - it seems like time has only served to make it more lethal. The rest of his team is undeniably good, you doubt Ushijima would join a club made up of anything less than the best, but still, he’s in his element and without a single doubt the strongest on the court. 

For every point he scores, Tendou cheers wildly. Halfway through the second set you can see that every player on the other side hates Ushijima - if the scowls and muttered snarls they’re shooting his way are anything to go by. You can’t exactly say you blame them for it either. They’re demoralised and angry, frustrated by the huge Ace and his indomitable force and even though he’s not a part of the team, Tendou revels in it. There’s a song he starts to sing, some inane jig that flows too naturally to have been made up on the spot. You can almost imagine him on the court beside Ushiwaka, singing it after stealing point after point from the other team. The two of them must have made a formidable team on the court.

They still do, you suppose.

You’ve never been one for volleyball, or sports in general, but even you can’t deny the sense of feral anticipation in the air as Ushijima steps up to serve on match point. Tendou has his hand wrapped tightly around yours, leaning forward in his seat to watch the spectacle. You can’t say you blame him.

You might hate him, but you can’t deny that his serves are a sight to behold. Your heart thumps as he throws the balls up, runs and launches himself into the air. His legs are arched, his form perfect and you still can’t quite believe how high he manages to get considering his size -

And then he hits the ball, palm slamming into the leather with a resounding smack - it flies over the net, damn near knocks the poor Libero off his feet as he tries to save it, but even that isn’t enough to stop it. The ball ricochets off his receive, spinning into the crowd and just like that - it’s all over. 

Ushijima roars in victory, and Tendou turns to you, red eyes wild and delighted. You don’t have a moment to breathe, much less prepare yourself before his lips are crashing against your own. 

The deafening cheers of the stadium fade out. 

You can feel his racing pulse as he clutches you close, the unrepentant enthusiasm that pours through him as his tongue dances across your bottom lip, begging for entry. You’re stuck still, frozen in place as your soulmate steals his first kiss.

Somehow when you pictured this moment as a little girl, you didn’t imagine that it would be fear that floods your veins, that the soft, breathless laugh that Tendou gives as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours would scare you instead of making you feel safe and loved.

They walk you home together. It’s unnerving enough with just one of them, but with both your soulmates flanking you you’re more on edge than usual. 

Or maybe it’s the slightly weird energy you can sense between the two of them. Tendou hasn’t stopped grinning since he kissed you and Ushijima still seems a little wired from his win. He hasn’t said much since the three of you left the stadium, but he’s holding you closer than normal, an arm slung low across your back, his fingers brushing possessively along your hip. 

God, Kyoto can’t happen fast enough. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you reach your apartment. They’d offered to take you out for dinner after the game finished - to celebrate Ushiwaka’s crushing victory over ‘those poor assholes’ as Tendou had put it - but despite the pit of hunger in your stomach, you’d politely refused. The less time spent with them the better.

Surprisingly, both Tendou and Ushijima had taken it in stride without so much as a peep.

But now you’re at the front door, keys in hand and Ushijima still has his arm draped around you. It’s not like they haven’t been in this position before, but despite all their gentle cajoling (well, gentle is relative - Tendou whines petulantly and Ushijhima just seems to hover silently like an overgrown bat) they’ve never actually been inside your apartment. 

It’s your one sanctuary, and you very much want to keep it that way.

“Y’know, ‘Toshi and I’ve been thinking,” Tendou begins, snatching the keys out of your hand before you can stop him, chuckling and swatting at you when you try and grab them back. “Me ‘n the big guy, we really do love you, baby - head over heels, heart racing, butterflies in your stomach kinda love. It’s kinda sappy, actually. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us.”

The key slides into the lock and he twists it, pushing your door wide open. His eyes flash to yours and he grins, bowing as he gestures towards the open apartment. Your open apartment.

An invitation.

You blanch. “Um, I-I don’t think-”

Stupid of you to think you ever had a choice in the matter - Ushijima’s arm is an iron wall against your back, pushing you forward as he crosses the threshold. 

Tendou follows behind the two of you, and the click of the door shutting behind you echoes far too loudly in your small apartment. He tosses the keys into the little dish on the kitchen counter - where they always go when you’re at home - and winks at you.

“I mean we are your soulmates so I ‘spose it’s kind of a given.” He shrugs, leaning back against the countertop, folding his arms over his chest. “But we can’t help but notice that you seem a little… uneasy around us. And I get it, baby, really I do. You’re just a little shy - it’s cool.”

Your heart leaps into your throat as Ushijima’s fingers curl around your jaw and he tilts your face to the side to meet his intense stare, “You’re being unnecessarily stubborn,” he elaborates.

A flicker of amusement dances in Tendou’s eyes at his bluntness. “We tried it your way - taking it slow and steady, trying to ease you in but, well… I think we can all agree your way isn’t working all that great.”

Your eyes snap back to him, “What?”

His grin widens, “So we figured it’s time we try it our way. We’ve been so good, baby! D’ya have any idea how hard it’s been to hold ourselves back?”

Ushijima’s grip is unrelenting, but that doesn’t stop you from frantically trying to fight your way out of it as Tendou pushes off the counter and stalks over to the two of you.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, “Been waiting so long for this. Wanted to fuck you on the tables back in the diner in that cute lil’ uniform of yours.” He smirks down at you, his pupils blown wide and dripping with lust. 

No. No, no, no! You shake your head frantically as he closes in, “Stop, wait! Let me go, LET ME GO! I-I don’t want-”

Your panicked words are cut off as Ushijima suddenly spins you around to face him. His hand cups your cheek, enveloping it entirely, and his broad thumb strokes the soft skin gently. “We’re not going to hurt you, little one. You just need to see - to feel what we feel for you.”

Whatever retort you have is swallowed up as he closes the gap between you and kisses you. He’s demanding - unrelenting - forcing your mouth open so that his tongue can taste yours. Distantly you register Tendou slotting in behind you, the unmistakable bulge that presses against your ass as he attaches himself to your neck. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers sliding to the hem of your top. “Let your soulmates take care of you, hm?”

It’s not like you’ve ever had a choice in the matter.

[shorkbrian]

Hello I went to IKEA yesterday and got myself a BLÅHAJ (giant plush shark) now I have TWO giant shark plushies on my bed and I’m in heaven. ANyways it got me thinking? A yandere and plushies?? 

Warnings - NSFW, non con, dub con, Tamaki is a voyuer without your consent, Kirishima is sweet but deluded, Bakugou is mean but caring, and Dabi is straight up AwfulTM

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KIRISHIMA

Would be so soft, notice how you have plushies littering your bed at home so he’ll buy you some. Even if you’re the kind of person who doesn’t have plushies crowding their bed, he’s still gonna buy them for you.

He likes giving them to you, thinks it’s romantic when he presents them with a bundle of flowers. You think it’s anything but,  yet still accept the stuffed animal begrudgingly because it’s so soft and cuddly. 

It becomes a comfort object, something you can’t seem to let go of. If you’re watching tv, the stuffed animal is on the couch too. Making food? The plushie is set next to you on the counter where you can grab it. At night-time it’s clutched in your arms, suffocated against your chest the very same way Kiri clutches you to his.

Getting fucked silly? The plushie is crushed in your arms as you cry, and Kiri thinks it’s so cute and it makes his heart clench. Something about it makes him go wild, maybe it’s how small you seem, how innocent with a stuffed animal wrapped in your arms as if it could protect you from his relentless kisses.

He loves you so much, he’s always buying you plushies. Kirishima catches on the fact that they’re a comfort object for you, something that you use to ground yourself when something stresses you out.

He always brings your biggest plushie to you when he’s gonna fuck you hard, like the kind, considerate man he is. It’s so big that you can wrap both arms around it while you sob, while he ruts into you like a wild animal.

Likes laying you over your plushie and watches you cry into it as he fucks you so good you’re screaming in ecstasy. Kiri especially loves fucking you early in the morning or late at night, turns you on your side and has sleepy sex while you sniffle and hold your stuffed animal.

He accidentally rips one of them one time while he’s fucking you, he got too excited and wanted to see your face as you came, tried to pull the plushie out of your arms and ended up ripping it in half.

You had cried so hard and he felt so bad, bought you ten more plushies and giant candy bar to make up for it. For the next few weeks he was so, so gentle with you, pushing down his primal urges to get feral and use you like a whore whenever he saw you being unwittingly cute and sexy as you went about your day.

Although, to be honest it’s not hard for you to be sexy. You bend over and he wants to rip off your clothes, bury himself into your pussy. You stretch to get a glass off a high shelf and he wants to lift you onto the counter, make you kneel so he can eat out your pussy. You literally walk across the floor and the big man is salivating at the sight of your breasts bouncing slightly underneath your top, wants to pull and suck at them until they’re red and sore. But like a good loevr, he holds himself back and only pulls you to the bedroom and treats you gently. For a few weeks at least, until he can’t take it anymore.

Then it’s back to rabid fuck-sessions whenever you do so much as breathe

If you upset him (please try not to), The plushie will get ripped out of your hands, discarded onto the floor. He won't let you grab it before he’s lifting you up against the wall, tearing off your shorts and sheathing his cock inside of you. 

When that happens, you have nothing left to hold but him. Kirishima doesn’t like getting upset with you, but deep down he really relishes the way you grab and clutch at him like he’s your lifeline. 

BAKUGOU

Doesn’t really think much about it, but maybe he sees a cute ad or something pretty in a store window and it reminds him of you. Probably he saw the plushie bought it for you cause he wants to see you holding it. 

Gives it to you, but doesn’t really think much of it after that. Thinks it’s cute how you had blushed when he pulled the silky soft stuffed animal out of the bag. You had been surprised, because usually Bakugou is buying you lewd outfits or lingerie, not cute plushies. You were honestly kind of grateful that you wouldn’t have to model your gift for the man; he always insisted you do with everything else he bought for you.

It doesn’t bother him that you leave it on the bed. Honestly, he doesn’t even think of it. But when he sees you tucking it underneath the covers like a little kid, he gets lost in thought.

Dude probably hadn’t even thought about kids, but seeing you be so soft and sweet to a inanimate toy had him fantasizing about the future with you. You would be a great mother, and he’d be a good father. 

And that’s how Bakugou ends up with a breeding kink. 

When he crawls over you the first night, groaning about making a kid that’d be so smart and strong and great, you panic. You don’t want a kid with him, he’s volatile and explosive and abusive, it’s a recipe for disaster. 

You beg and cry and plead with him to keep you on the pill, and you do to so sweetly and utterly humiliate yourself while doing so, and Bakugou can’t tell you no. So he promises that it won’t happen just yet.

But if you’re bad? He’s gonna hold you down and fuck into you so fast that you get dizzy, threaten to flush the birth control pills down the toilet. He runs his mouth, goes on and on about how he’ll fuck you until you’re swollen with his kids, how your tits will get so big and round and full of milk and he’ll suck and bite at them everyday.

After that threat, you try your hardest to always be good.

TAMAKI

Obviously is too shy to kidnap you just yet. The ravenette gets you one of those nanny-cam bears, one that has a camera inside without it being obvious.

He stutters as he gives it to you, ears bright red, shuffling his shoes and not able to meet your eyes. Says its because the little animal reminded him of you, that they’re his favorite and immediately bites his tongue after he admits that.

You probably think it’s cute, smile as he pushes it into your hands. You can’t tell that the poor man is almost cumming in his pants when his hands brush against your arm. You know he’s shy, so it’s not surprising that he immediately bolts as soon as he’s given you the stuffed animal.

A camera doesn’t even cross your mind, Tamaki too innocent and you too trusting. The stuffed animal gets placed in your armchair, the one in your bedroom that you sit in to read. Lucky for Tamaki, it faces your bed.

He watches you quite a lot, laying down in his own bed with his laptop on the nightstand. The man likes to imagine the two of you sharing the same bed, but can’t get far without blushing and covering his face with a pillow at the slightest dirty thought.

When you masturbate for the first time, Tamaki cries. He cries because he’d been watching you ever since you got in bed, had watched as you slowly kicked off your shorts and had cum the second you peeled your panties down. He cries because he’s overstimulated, unable to stop jerking his cock as he watches you pleasure yourself, the man almost numb and shaking as he orgasms for the third time in half an hour.

By the time you finish, Tamaki is blubbering, can’t stop watching, can’t stop pumping his overstimulated cock in time to your fingers plunging into your pussy.

He doesn’t turn his TV on anymore.

DABI

Is the type to get some awful, scratchy, over-filled abomination like the stuffed animals you get from the fair. It’s an ugly one, horribly deformed and badly sewn, eyes bulging and one of it’s limbs shorter than the others. 

Probably doesn’t think to give it to you until he’s headed home, knows it’s what couples do and thinks that maybe you’ll stop screaming when he touches you. 

He barely got his dick out one time and you had cried so hard you passed out. Now if he goes anywhere near you you’re immediately alert, wide eyes never leaving him. If he so much as touches you he has to be prepared for you to scream and cry and try to bite him.

He guesses that’s what happens when you kidnap someone.

Getting you a stuffed animal does not make anything better.

But Dabi’s tired of you refusing him, of you crying and being a little bitch. He’s been blueballed for the past two weeks, just because he was trying to be nice and let you adjust.

So he takes the deformed stuffed animal he stole and shoves it in your mouth. 

It muffles your cries while he grinds his dick into your sensitive walls, and really, that’s all he needs. You feel so good, Dabi doesn’t care that behind your makeshift gag you’re cursing his existence.