#you can bet he smells sweaty and terrible

[anama-cara]

fight club (dark!joel miller x f!reader; dead dove do not eat)

Summary: Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way. Word count: 3.6k

Warnings/tags: Dead Dove Do Not Eat. 18+ minors dni. Unprotected PIV, fingering (f receiving), slapping, choking, hair pulling, violence, blood, degradation, curse word, age gap, dark content, noncon, dubcon.   

a/n: This is the darkest one I’ve written so far so let me know what you think. Author is 18+ Written for #deaddovedecember2023 hosted by @romana-after-dark

You’ve had your fair share of blunders and brushes with death, but this has got to be one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done. But you’re desperate. Really freaking desperate. And desperate people throw out all caution and logic and good old fashioned common sense. So here you are, sweaty hair plastered to your forehead, heart racing, knuckles bloody. And you’re about to make another terrible mistake.

You’ve been in the Boston QZ for about 2 years now and every side hustle and grift you’ve tried has ultimately failed. One of your fellow con artists mentioned some back-alley action, an illegal underground fight club. So you follow his direction to the hideout, through an alley to the back of an abandoned building and down the stairs to the basement. You think the place must have been used for storage before, its mostly unfinished. It’s a large square room with low ceilings. All the furniture has been pushed to the sides of the room, leaving the center open. There’s a mob of people shouting and cheering, mostly large men but you spot a couple of females too. You recognize a few faces amongst the crowd as smugglers you’ve previously dealt with. There are a few lamps in the corners of the room but it’s still dimly lit. There’s a poker table pushed up against the wall, bottles of alcohol, and a caged rooster in the back. You guess this place does everything – speakeasy, gambling, cock fighting, and the ring.

There’s smoke in the air that burns your eyes and when you walk little clouds of dust follow in your footsteps. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and cigarettes engulfs your senses. The place is packed and noisy with swearing and shouting. You push through a throng of people to get to the bookie sitting on a high stool in the corner. She’s wearing a red and black flannel with black jeans and combat boots. She nods to you as you approach.

“Never seen you here, but if you’re here that means one of us trusted you enough let you in. Welcome. So, what can I do for you? Who ya bettin’ on?” She nods to the ring.

Ring is a generous term. Really it’s a cleared away area in the center of the room with a white circle on the floor drawn in chalk. There are two burly men inside fighting it out, fists flailing and blood flying. You notice that one has several teeth missing and cauliflower ear. He seems to be winning.

You turn back to her. “I’m not betting, I’m here to fight.”

She pauses to read your face and once she sees you’re serious she chuckles. She looks you up and down, taking in your skinny arms and round unscarred face. She holds out her hand. “The name’s Tess.”

You take her hand with a firm grip.

“Alright girl, you’re in. But I hope you know what you’re doing.” She gives you all the rules. Basically, you win if your opponent steps out of the ring or they don’t get up after a 10 second count. “I’ll be rootin’ for ya.” She says as you turn to leave. She sounds sincere.

You’re already starting to feel sick. Your stomach is turning, you’re so nauseous and the loud noises and metallic smell of blood isn’t helping. You go to a corner room, as far away as possible, and sit on a flipped over crate to wait. You’re wearing a loose t-shirt with your green cargo jacket overtop, black leggings, and your combat boots. You watch your swinging feet, trying to calm your nerves and not think about the sound of crunching bone you just heard. You wonder whose nose was just broken, Big Guy or Toothless.

As you’re sitting, zoning out, you feel someone walk up beside you. Your head snaps up.

“Hi there.”

Now this is a face you definitely don’t know. You’d remember him. He’s probably in his late 40’s, tall and broad shouldered with patchy facial hair, a strong nose and jaw line, and a pinched brow that makes it look like he’s permanently scowling. But there’s something in his dark brown eyes that catches your attention. It’s alluring and yet it makes you very uneasy. There’s a danger hidden there. He sits on the crate next to you with a sigh. He’s wearing jeans and a tight grey t-shirt that shows off his sculped chest and hugs his tanned biceps. That catches your attention too. You watch his muscles flex as he lowers himself onto the crate. Maybe you’re staring too long. He kicks you crate with a heavy boot.

“Hello?”

Even his voice is entrancing, gruff, dark, masculine, with a thick Texan accent. You blink and clear your throat. “Hi.” You say flatly. You try to appear confident and nonchalant, like you’re bored with this whole thing. Like you’re not scared shitless right now. You’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him.

“You come here often?” He asks and you can’t help but smile at the lame joke. His eyes move to your lips as you smile and his own form a wicked grin. It scares you. Your mouth falls back.

“Um no, this is my first time here. My first match in the ring.”

“You’re fighting?” He sounds equally surprised and impressed. His eyes light up and that predatory grin appears on his face again. “Little thing like you… going up against these grown men. You must be one tough little girl.”

You shift your weight, his words making you uncomfortable.

He quietly adds, “How I like ‘em. A fighter.”

Before you get a chance to respond there’s a roar of the crowd and you watch as they drag a body from the ring and prop him against the wall. You hope he’s just unconscious. You turn back to the stranger but he’s gone. The crowd quiets and you hear Tess call out, “Next round is against my partner Joel. Y’all know Joel. Any takers?”

You get to your feet. The crowd is too thick to see the opponent in the ring. But you don’t even care to see what he looks like first, no point sizing him up. You know all these fighters will be bigger and stronger than you. You have to do it now before you lose the small amount of courage you have left. You can’t sit still any longer.

“Here.” You call out. As you walk to the ring you tell yourself over and over again that they may have more muscle, but you rely on your speed and your skill.

You push through the circle of onlookers, most don’t even seem to notice you or bother to move out of the way. You’re too short to see over their heads so you raise your hand in the air and repeat, “here!” Finally they part. Faces look down at you as you pass and you can read the looks of disbelief and amusement in their eyes. You step over the line of chalk and face Tess. “I challenge,” you say in your most confident voice. Tess looks uncertain, even worried for you. Her throat bobs and she looks like she might say something, but instead she just nods. You turn to face your opponent. Oh shit, it’s the stranger. Joel. You know his name now. He’s giving you that horrible predatory grin again as he looks you up and down shamelessly. He’s so cocky it boils your blood.

“Well look who it is, Newbie.”

You snarl in response but he just laughs at you.

“Begin,” Tess announces.

You start circling each other, moving clockwise as you study each other’s movements, looking for the right time to pounce. You kick up dust as you slide your feet. Your boot catches on something sticky, dried blood. You push the thought from your mind, concentrating on watching Joel. You observe his muscles flexing, his balance, the length of his strides and his footwork. You can tell he’s strong, but he’s slower. You’ll use that to your advantage. During these brief moments of sizing each other up you’ve kept your own strengths hidden. You copied his pace, circling him just as slowly with deliberately timed steps. You want your real fighting style to remain a surprise. You want this fight over quickly, a few strong punches from him and you’d be lights out. You know you can’t overpower him and keep him down for a 10 count, so the only way is to trick him into stepping over the white line.

The crowd is getting impatient, their jeering getting louder and more vulgar as they scream at him to pummel you. With no warning, no tell, he lunges at you and lands a right hook into your jaw, rattling your brain. You dodge his incoming blow, ducking under his arm and side stepping past him. So maybe he’s not so slow after all, that’s okay, you’ll just be faster. Your jaw is aching and you taste blood in your mouth. You spit on the floor and Joel smiles. Just one punch and you’re already dizzy. He closes the gap in one step, towering above you with a vicious gleam in his eye. He does a jab cross combo and you manage to block both. As he’s pulling his fist back you land a hook right into his ribs lightning fast, then quickly pull your punch back and step back into your fighting stance with your guard raised. He looks a little surprised. You actually snuck a blow in. The crowd cheers and his surprise turns to anger. It chills your blood and weakens your knees but you stand your ground. Furious, he attacks you in a brutal volley, jab, cross, hook, elbow. He’s pummeling you with hit after hit and you’re moving swiftly, weaving under his fists as you step backwards, leading him closer to the edge of the ring. Your heel touches the chalk. He throws a powerful cross but he’s late on the recoil so you grab his wrist, leaning into his momentum and pulling his arm, swinging him to the right. He takes a single step to correct his balance. A single step that’s out of the circle.

You drop his wrist as the crowd erupts in shouts of approval at the surprise and swearing as bets are lost. You turn on your heel, not even bothering to look at Joel as you march up to Tess.

“Well color me impressed. If you come back again you could probably make a lot more ration cards. Everyone likes an underdog ya know.” Spectators flock to her, passing up cigarettes, pills, bullets, and food, you even spot a piece of gum. After a minute of tallying she hands you a stack of ration cards. You stuff them in your jacket pocket and nod farewell. This should tide you over for a while, at least until you find another smuggling job. Tess seems okay but you hope you never have to come back here.

You rush out of the hideout and exit into the alleyway where you lean up against the wall and breathe in deeply, relishing the fresh cool night air. You close your eyes for a moment and relax your head back against the cool concrete, letting your body calm down after all the adrenaline.

A hand wraps around your throat, squeezing and cutting off your air. Gasping, your eyes flutter open and you stare wildly at the man in front of you. Joel. His face is flushed and his eyes are black. You choke out, “J-Joel, what-“ but he squeezes even tighter and your plea dies.

“Shut up bitch,” he snaps. Oh you made a big mistake. Now you understand what kind of man Joel is. You humiliated him when you won. You took his power. And he wants it back.

“How dare you trick me like that.”

You’re desperately shaking your head, unable to speak. He slams your head back into the wall. You feel your scalp scrap against the concrete and blood seep into your hair.

“You think you’re better than me, is that it? Huh?” With his other hand he grabs a fistful of your hair. “Huh? Answer me!” he shouts.

You shake your head desperately. He feels the blood on the back of your head now and slides his hand from your hair. Holding it up, he angles his hand to better see in the light from the streetlamp, admiring the sight of your blood on his fingertips. His other fingers are still pushing into your throat, bruising the skin underneath. You have to get out of here. Not knowing what else to do you kick him in the groin, hoping he’ll drop you or at least loosen his grip. It works and you wrench free. You run one, two steps before he catches you and slams you into the wall. You squeal. His hands pin your wrists against the cold wall by your sides and his body is pressed into yours, squishing you against the wall so tightly you can’t move. His chest is heaving and his breath is in your face as he looks down at you.

“Joel please,” you plead desperately.

“Oh now you have manners.” He scoffs. “Too late little girl,” he says darkly. You whine in desperation and his lethal gaze shift to one of greed. “Oh honey you’re giving me a new idea for how to punish you.” He smiles and you watch as lust clouds his gaze. You feel his cock twitch against your middle. Your eyes widen in terror and you gulp. His predator gaze deepens as he clocks your fear. He feeds off of it. He takes your wrists and pins them above your head with one large hand.

“Gotta show you some respect little girl. Put ya in your place.” He leans his hips into you, pushing you deeper into the hard wall as he grinds into you. With no warning he slaps you across your face. It stings as you feel tears forming in your eyes.

“That’s better. Cry for me girly. Think you can beat me, no, I’ll show who’s in control here.” His other hand other slips beneath the hem of your t-shirt and reaches up to grab at your breast. He gropes you roughly, his cold callous fingers kneading into you. He flicks your nipple and you cringe at the pain, but harden under his touch as he rubs it between his finger and thumb. He groans and his hips grind into you again, rutting up against you and pushing you roughly. You feel your skin grating against the rough concrete behind you. He kisses you sloppily, greedily making out with your unresponsive mouth as you try to turn away. He drops his hand from your breast and slides his hand around your neck again.

“I’m gonna let go and yer' gonna take off your pants. Got that little girl?” You spit in his face. He laughs like a mad man. “You’re a fighter. I said I liked ‘em feisty. You remembered, huh girly?”

Then he abruptly stops and he squeezes so tightly you see black spots. “But right now I need you to behave.” You nod vigorously.

“Good girl.” He releases his tight grip and drops your hands. You undo your pants and push them down with your underwear and are about to step out of them when he stops you. “Leave it.” It restricts your movement more, you can’t run.

 “That’s it, good job girly. Now me.” He commands. You undo his belt with shaking fingers and tug his zipper down. You tentatively pause and he smacks your hip. “I didn’t stay stop,” he growls. You tug his pants and boxers down to his thighs and his cock springs free. He’s so big and angry looking that you start to cry.

“Fuckin’ weak.” He wraps a hand around the base of his cock and strokes himself slowly as you watch. The thumbs the tip of his cock where a bead of precum is leaking out. He raises he fingers to your mouth and slides his thumb over your lower lip roughly before pushing it inside your mouth.

 “No biting.” His thumb glides over your teeth and he pushes further. Your tongue flicks against him instinctively and his cock twitches. “You like this girly? You a little slut?” With his thumb deep in your mouth you’re unable to answer but your eyes glare at him. He just smirks. He taps your jaw with his other fingers then brings them to your lips as you open your mouth wider. You suck on his fingers, saliva gathering on them. When he's satisfied, he pulls them out with a lewd wet noise. He pets your check once with the back of his hand. You feel the scratch of the dried blood as his split knucks skim across your face.

He reaches down between you and slides two fingers into you without hesitation. The stretch burns and your muscles clench in surprise. “Fuck, so tight.” He slides his fingers in and out, punishing your hole as you try to adjust. “We gotta stretch you out a bit if you’re gonna fit this big cock.” He pushes another finger in and you scream. He glares at you and silences your scream with his mouth. He bites your lower lip as he fucks you with his fingers. You taste blood as he pulls way.

After a few more thrusts he feels your body adjust and your slick starts to seep onto his hand. He laughs, “Not such a tough girl now huh?” Your face reddens in embarrassment as your body betrays you.

He slides his fingers out and slaps your wet pussy. “Just a little slut. Knew you wanted this cock.” He pushes his fingers through your folds, playing with you and gathering your slick. He slides his fist down his cock, spreading the wetness.

 “Wanna see you cry on this cock.” With his fist wrapped around the base he guides himself and notches at your entrance then pushes all the way inside you, filling you up and splitting you open. You gasp at the stretch and struggle against him. He clicks his tongue. “None of that, stay still,” he grunts as he pulls out to the tip then slams back in to you. “Gotta take your punishment,” another hard dominating thrust.  

“Gonna ruin your little pussy.” He’s hitting something deep inside you with each painstakingly hard thrust. You feel your body responding, heat pooling and your walls flutter around him. He pulls out halfway and pushes back in, setting a new shallow pace as he fucks you against the wall. It’s faster and more desperate. You see sweat forming on his brow. You think you could probably get out of his grip right now if you tried, he’s distracted and out of breath already. But for some reason you don’t. You stay still as he brutally rails you, your back arching against the wall causing you’re your shoulder blades to sting as the scrape the wall.

The sounds of skin slapping slick skin and groaning fill the narrow alley. The street light flickers and for the first time it dawns on you that anyone could walk by and see you. You shiver and try to push against Joel’s hold but he growls at you through gritted teeth. “I said stay still.”

He’s close, you can see it on his scrunched-up face, so you relax and decide to just let him finish. Your body is marked with purple fingerprints and red marks where he slapped you. The blood in your hair has dried. Maybe it was stupid to fight him, you think as he continues to pound you. He feels good inside you, you can’t deny that. You close your eyes and focus on that feeling now, your hips moving to grind into him. It building and building and you can’t stop it as you come on his cock with a cry. Your walls squeeze his cock and it’s enough to send him spilling into you. His muscles twitch and he presses his entire body up against you, flattening you with his full weight as he comes inside you with a groan. You feel the warm gush of his cum inside you as it spreads and fills you. He sighs and slides out with a lewd squelching sound.

“Hmmmm, hope you learned your lesson little girl.”

Your legs are shaking, cum trickling down your thighs. He steps back and releases his hold on your wrists. You slide down the wall and sit crumpled on the cold ground. He drags his cock against your check once before stuffing it back into his pants and fixing his belt. He smirks down at you, proud of his work. “See ya around,” he says before stalking off, leaving you sitting alone in the dirty alley, pants still around your ankles.

You look down and watch his seed seeping out of you. You gulp, feeling your sore throat ache from his chokehold. You swipe your fingers over your cheek, wiping away your tears cooling against the night air. Your fingers brush against your bloodied swollen lips from his crushing kiss and drift to your sides where you see red prints marking your skin. Your fingers slide lower and find the wetness on your thighs. Without thinking you draw your fingers up to your mouth and suck, tasting him. Hand in your mouth you snap back to reality and glance down the alley to make sure no one is looking. You scrambling up, hand against the wall in support. You hurriedly pull up your pants and rush out of the alley in humiliation.

[avonne-writes]

Oh my gosh happy early birthday Avonne!!!

Could I request: [ CARE ] sender nurses a sick / injured receiver🥰🥰

Thank you so much, dear! ❤️ it took me a few weeks, but here it is at last. Although I'm usually wary of a/b/o, I was hit by an idea that I had to explore, I hope you like it 😊

~

When Gale shuffles out of their bedroom that morning, scratching at his chest sleepily, the smell of scrambled eggs hits him from the kitchen and he finds himself suddenly, violently sick. He rushes to the bathroom as bitter bile floods his mouth. He barely makes it inside, but there’s no holding it back - he throws up into their toilet.

The noises he makes sound terrible even to his own ears, so he isn’t surprised when Bucky appears at his side as if summoned.

"Shit." Bucky cringes as Gale shakes and clutches at the ceramic. He’s in a 'kiss the cook' apron and sweatpants that must be Gale's because they're too tight at the waist. "Let me get you some water."

Gale wants to tell him that it's pointless at the moment, but he’s too busy puking his guts out. Bucky kneels beside him and rubs his back through it, his big, warm palm soothing despite Gale's misery. He strokes Gale's hair away from his forehead and shushes him comfortingly.

There’s nothing else he can do. But it's nice to have his mate there. Before Bucky, Gale never really had anyone take care of him like this.

When the nausea finally subsides, he sits back on his haunches and lets Bucky wipe his face with a soft towel. He rinses his mouth, then takes a sip of the glass of water Bucky presses to his lips.

"Thanks." He mumbles when Bucky starts stroking his back again. He can tell that Bucky's trying to put out calming pheromones. To some extent, it works, because the ache in Gale's stomach settles to a gentler ebb and flow.

His body begins to relax. He rinses his mouth again, then puts the glass down. His hands are still trembling, but that starts to subside too when Bucky gathers them between his palms to hold and caress Gale's skin.

"Only plain toast for you this morning." He tells Gale with a lopsided smile. "Pity, 'cause I was gonna spoil you with my Michelin-level breakfast."

When Gale thinks of those eggs, he feels his stomach roil again. He squeezes his eyes shut to fight it. "Must have eaten something bad."

Bucky hums in thought, combing Gale's sweaty hair with his fingers. "Or maybe you got it from me."

"What do you mean?" Gale asks as he’s pulled forward into Bucky’s embrace, Bucky’s neck bared for him to let him scent to help with his nausea. Grateful, he presses his nose to Bucky's pulse point and takes a long inhale. He smells sweet and content. Like home.

"Huh. You don’t smell sick though." Bucky muses as he scents Gale in turn. He draws his hand up and down Gale's back gently. "Still, I bet you five bucks it's the same stomach bug I had at work."

"What stomach bug?" Gale asks more insistently, pressing himself closer. His mate's scent is so comforting and warm, even more so than usual - he wants to get high on it to forget the pain still rolling in his belly.

"I didn’t wanna worry you with it." Bucky starts, and when he shrugs, the tip of Gale’s nose rubs right against his scent gland. Gale’s eyes fly open. "I threw up at work a few times this week but it always kinda went away immediately. I'm all good now."

Bucky pulls back and gives him a rueful look. "Should have figured I'd give it to you."

Beyond the smell of sickness and cleaning products and the lingering waft of scrambled eggs, Gale can feel it now. It’s everywhere. Now that he quite literally buried his face in it, he can’t ignore it, can’t put it out of his mind - the delicate, trickling sweetness of new life. A heady, content shift in the essence of Bucky's fragrance, underlying all of his emotions. Gale has been around enough pregnant people in his life to recognize it.

A baby.

Bucky snorts in amusement, mistaking Gale's wide-eyed stare for worry. "Told you, Buck." He stands and pats the small curve of his belly. "Fit as a fiddle. I could drink Curt under the table."

Gale whimpers. "Please don’t."

Bucky extends his arms to help him up, completely oblivious. He steadies Gale with an arm around his waist. "I know you're really sick when you don’t roll with the joke."

Gale swallows against the tumultous emotions swirling in him and takes another deep breath as Bucky guides him to the couch. The scent follows them.

It’s not just an illusion.

He's going to be a dad.

[dovabunny]

When your heart goes 'Padam'

Soap hated unplanned leave and he hated this fucking club.

Price had walked into his room three nights ago to inform him that due to a security threat tip he was to be 'sent on a solo mission' so they can track who has their sights on him, while he is actually shipped home to lay low.

To make it worse, he swore someone has been following him all week, but everytime he tries to catch them, even in a subtle reflection - there's nothing.

So between his apparent paranoia, irritation of being sent home while they have all the fun, and being separated from Ghost - you can understand how the last thing he wants right now was to be in a fucking club. But his sister has the hots for the DJ and didn't want to come alone so she BEGGED him to tag along.

He caved cause he could never say no to her. He tried to stay at the bar but the constant swarm of sweaty bodies had him ducking out. He tried to keep to find a seat or table to lean on, but that apparently signaled that he was lonely and looking for company. When this one persistent bloke with terrible mullet and gold chain couldn't get the fuckin message that he wasn't interested - he figured his best bet was the dancefloor.

Maybe this was good for him. To just close his eyes and move to the rhythm of the music. He had always loved music since he was a boy, always found peace in it. Maybe it could even get his mind off the one thought that haunted him the most - Ghost.

He was so sure that the flirting and the looks might mean something more, that the way his heart thumped painfully in his chest when Ghost chuckled at his bad jokes might just be reciprocated. But then the lieutenant suddenly turned cold. Not just cold, icey. His gaze was cold and distant, he responded to Soap's usual attempts at banter with "focus on the mission, sergeant." And didn't that sting. He hadn't been "Johnny" in two weeks and it fuckin hurt. Had it all just been a bit of fun for Ghost? Had Soap just been a plaything, a distraction he grew tired of when he realized how much he could be? How needy?

Soap bit his lip, eyebrows drawn as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown out his spiraling thoughts that had no right to hurt him as much as it does. He focuses on the beat of the music, the rhythm of the base he feels in his chest. Slowly he loses himself to it, not caring that he's dancing alone, not caring what he looks like - swallowed by the sea of pulsing bodies moving around him.

He feels the occasional hand on his hip, even grope of his ass or thigh, but smoothly slips away with a quick glare. Some men, some women, all looking disgruntled by the fact that Soap doesn't want to be groped by a stranger.

He was just getting lost to the music again when an arm slips around his waist in a way that just had him feeling repulsed. He whips around and it's mister mullet gold chain. His strong cheap cologne and smell of terrible beer like a fog and somehow it makes Soap feel dirty. He pointedly pushes his arm off and tries to slip away, but the clown grins like Soap is playing hard to get, gripping his hips to pull firmly to his crotch.

Soap has had enough, he elbows the man in the stomach and turns around to- but then suddenly it's like the man is yanked into the crowd. In a blink and a faint yelp smelly mcMullet has just vanished.

Soap feels uneasy. A man that persistent won't duck out that fast. He tries to put it out his mind. Moves to a different spot just in case, still in the sea of people dancing but closer to the fire escape.

He had just gotten himself convinced to close his eyes and clear his mind again when there's another touch...

But this one is different. It's light, a warm hand brushing against his arm, and he senses a heavy presence behind him. But they're not on him, not grinding on his leg or letting greedy hands roam over his sweaty t shirt. No they're... Asking. Cautious.

He can't explain why he leans into the touch. He had missed dancing with someone, hasn't done so in years, but it had to be someone he felt comfortable losing himself with.

At his subtle acknowledgments, another hand settles on his other arm, a warm breath falls over the back of his neck as those hands slowly move grip his biceps and move down along his arms.

A new song comes on, the new Kylie song. It's low, seductive, and rhythmic. Soap tilts his head to the side, a less than subtle sign that he accepts his mystery partner.

Strong hands wrap around his wrists and pulls him back against a huge, firm body. He feels the breath on his neck Ghost over his exposed skin, a soft brush of lips and he sighs. He pressed more firmly into the undulating body behind him, letting his back feel warm wide shoulders and a soft chest, he feels daring and rolls his hips, feeling the clear bulge in the man's jeans.

It should make him feel repulsed, dirty, too old for this. But why does it make him feel brave, naughty, wanted. He tilts his head and noses along a thick neck, the scent of bourbon, smoke, and something manly and dark has him shuddering.

Accepting Soap's daring advance, the man let's his big hands fall to his hips, monetarily returning Soap's tease with a roll of his own hips that has the smaller man give a broken moan at how hard and hungry the man feels. Those hands roam over his stomach, pressed flat against the thin sweat soaked shirt like they're mapping out his body. One hand travels up to settle just below his neck, the other wrapping possessively around his waist.

Soap is bodily anchored against the man, to the point that their movements are perfectly in sync. Soap grinds his hips and back against the huge, hard body and is reward with teeth scraping his neck.

"Yyy-ess", he chokes out. And then there's fingers on his chin tilting his head back just enough for warm lips to meet his.

Soap melts against the strong arms and chest keeping him up as they move in harmony to the beat. The kiss is gentle and dirty in equal measure and he gets lost in it.

They dance like that - or rather it would be more accurate to say they just moved like that, undulating and together to the music, pressed together to give and feel pleasure. Lips and tongues come together like they're choreographed, every lick, nip, and kiss matched like they've done it a thousand times and Soap has a hand in the man's hair holding him close.

He feels drunk on his stranger's scent and touch and taste, drowning in the best way. But then he feels it...

A sensation that hits him harder than any other he's felt all night.

Against his back, where the man's chest is pressed firmly to his skin, their t-shirts barely a barrier, he feels a clear thumping heartbeat.

It's too hard and too fast to be just from the music, but too steady to be from alcohol or drugs. No, it's sincere.

Soap let's their kiss end, just breathing each other in for a moment, before he turns and opens his eyes to gaze up at his stranger.

Lust lidded eyes stare down at him, a soft whiskey brown barely a ring around dark pupils blown wide, his steady gaze heavy with desire and possessiveness. Pale skin flickers in the pulsing lights of the club, revealing a blush bright and heavy over his strong nose and cheeks. Lips kiss swollen and split slick are parted as they pant in tandem. Short blonde hare stands messy where Soap had grabbed it, and tucked under his chin is a black face mask...

...it's the mask that sets it off. Suddenly Soap blinks himself into wakefulness and takes a closer look at his beautiful stranger.

The man seems to have gone through the same awakening, but instead of curiosity he seems to be taken by nervousness and panic.

Before Soap can even respond there's a mumbled apology and the man turns to flee.

[noxx-33i]

Hello I have come to word vomit RGB trio thoughts and headcanons. Beware some of these will probably be nonsensical and not in order.

I think skate has the worst fashion taste out of the three. I can't say much on this though cause I also have an atrocious sense of fashion/lh

Boombox and to an extent Skate talk in 80's slang. Like radical, bodacious, hella, etc. 80's coded boombox just lives in my head rent free and i can't kick him out/silly

Their alcohol tolerance from lowest to highest goes: Skate, BB, Sling

BB and Skate crash at Slingshot's place ALL the time. At this point even Shuri and Vine are used to them just random showing up

^^continuing this I think they like to enter through anywhere but the window. Most especially Skate. BB at the very least is willing to act like a Normal person and use the door SOMETIMES. Skate however if he uses the door you'll bet that he's going in on his board. Whether or not he immediately crashes and breaks something inside is another thing/lh

Sometimes they'll just have Katy Perry Sessions with Shuriken. Like literally just listening to Katy Parry. Don't. Don't ask why I don't know either/lh

^^they have California Gurlz memorized.

If one of them does a crime none of them are snitching. If one goes down they all go down if one admits to it the other two will admit to it too. No bro left behind/silly

Sling is the smartest academically in their group and is probably the best at math. Not saying he's a prodigy im just saying BB and Skate are probably dumb as shit with math /lh+aaff

Sometimes Skate likes to record his Sick Moves™ and sometimes it would Also be in a place he proooobably shouldnt be in so Sling and BB take turns being on either camera duty or watch duty. Whether either of them are good at it is a different discussion/silly

Skate was caught stealing by the police once but BB was there and somehow he managed to trick them into believing he was Skate's lawyer and that he did not steal anything. Sling watched from the distant absolutely flabbergasted

Sling prices his menu very high and whenever someone asks he's just like "Oh yk, inflation!" and somehow it always works

they like setting fireworks off at night. Sometimes BB can't come cause he's too tired from work or something tho so

Despite Slingshot being the most academically smart in the group Boombox is the one who would hesitate when given a big shiny red button that could nuke Crossroads. Sling and Skate would see a shiny red button and go "ooo shiny" then BOOM!!!! /silly

idk if you want this but I have an au with my friend using the skins ingame (and some we made up for it hehe) where Snowboard and Rainbox were highschool best friends and they would get into shenanigans together like light theft (Rain is the distraction), parties maybe, etc andddd I love them very much

Snow in the au has canonically tried to rizz up a girl (in High School) only to bag her boyfriend AND her brother

^^The au takes place years later when Snowboard is in college (in Blackrock college cause there's no faction wars in this au) and when he comes back he finally meets Cozyshot who is Rain's roommate and erm my friend likes skateshot so I think you can tell what happens next (GAY PEOPLE) /silly

Okay im gonna stop rmabling now have a good day silly muah/p

IM GONNA RAMBLE TOO AND Oh my god ur so right on the first one.

SKATE HAS TERRIBLE FASHION SENse. I can smell it. Hes so sweaty he doesnt care ab his looks too much but bb would say "youre not going out like that

YES I AGREE. Boombox is stuck in the 80s and he doesnt want to leave. Im actually picking up these habits i wanna say rad so bad.

Skate being the lowest is the funniest shit wver bc i love bullying his ass. Did you tell i put NO EFFORT in his stupid hc reveal HEELP

I FEEL LIKE ONE DAY THEY MIGHT GET A SECRET HANGOUT PLACE… like fully furinisjed and with ac and all that fancy shit. How? Idk illegally? They probably have board games and dnd sessions with trusted friends who keep the place a hush

Bro theyre not normal they will never be normal… "GUYS HOW DID YOU GET IN" // "We lock picked your door" // "WHAT THE FUCK"

> lowkey skate would learn lock picking for fun and hed get so good at it he would be tempted to steal more stuff

>> that being said.. rob the bank?/ref

LOWKEY i feel like bb was a nerd in his younger years but grew out of it… he would probably like science facts and everyone thinks hes smart but hes not.. AND YES sling being math smart is so real teehee. Hes the expenses guy but also cant stop himself from spending more than he needs to

Skate n BB would get into so much trouble but no one can ever find them guilty in some fucking way and it makes the authorities so mad

Ironically id like to think Zuka easily catches them doing dumb shit but he doesnt care enough to report it

Sling has probably done tax evasion one or two times.. or more….

Ok cute hcs to vomit out… with ur mention of tired boombox i feel like sling and skate would immediately go to bbs place and crash not in a chaotic way but like ogghd.. ÖIKE THEY MAKE HIM FEEL BETTER BY GIVING SNACKS OR MASSAGES TO HELP HIM LOSE STRESS

Literally any time one of the RGB members get their vibes off its instantly to care land bc bcbc bc 😞😞🙁🙁😞😞😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 *sobbing crying throwing up* theyr besties 😭😭 this xan be both platonic or romantic i legit do not care i love BOTH

With that in mind i feel like whenever skate and bb crash over sling would have a few of their favorite pastries from his cafe saved in his fridge… like dog treats LMAOO

This is likge.. dog-cat-dog relationship… but all are chaotic as fuck /silly

YOUR AU SOUNDS SO SILLY PLEASE I WANT TO SEE!!!! I WANNA DRAW EVEN.

that au makes me think of sling with glasses for some reason… i need to draw so bad….!!!!;!2!

And they were roommates /ref+j

[buttsmasher]

Dalton (Rewritten)

Reference Photo

Tags/Warnings: Face Farting, Unwilling Victim, Wrestler Dom, Lost Bet, Forced Fart Sniffing

You’ve possibly made the stupidest bet of your life. 

Dalton has been bothering you for the past few months about the fact that he might make it into the state finals for the wrestling team. You being that brat you are, said in front of the whole team, that there’s no way Dalton could ever get to state. So, Dalton, in response, made a bet with you; If he made it to finals you’ll have to let him sit on your face 30 minutes after a wrestling match and if he doesn’t then you get to do the same.

The thought of his sweaty ass sitting on your face disgusts you, but you agreed regardless so you didn’t look like a wimp in front of the whole team. After all, if he doesn’t make state, then you can force him to endure 30 minutes of your swamp ass.

But now, you watch as Dalton wipes the floor with the Greendale guy. It doesn’t make sense to you how Dalton wins so easily, but the whole team is celebrating and running up to him, except you of course. 

Dalton has won the last match he needed to qualify for state finals. And that means you have to let him sit his sweaty swamp ass on your face for a full 30 minutes. You panic, not wanting to be in this situation anymore, you do the one that makes sense.

You tried leaving.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. Luka sees you trying to leave and Dalton’s posse quickly catches up to you.

“Where you think you’re going?” He asked, knowing full well I was trying to get away.

“Just need some fresh air.” You try lying. They laugh because they know you won’t be having any fresh air soon enough.

“Come with us, we’ll get you some fresh air.” He laughs as he escorts you back towards the locker room off the gym. You sadly sigh as they open the door and show Dalton in his yellow singlet waiting for you.

“Guess who just made it to state bitch?” Dalton has this annoying grin on his face. “I think there’s a bet we need to settle.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“You’re not about to chicken out, are you?” Dalton saunters up to you. “You have a date with my swamp ass and you’re not getting out of it.”

“Seriously, it was just a stupid bet.” 

“I take my bets seriously.” One of the guys pushes you down onto the ground and holds you there. “Hold him down for me.” One of his friends holds down your arms while the other holds your legs. 

“Guys seriously, we don’t have to do this.” You try weaseling your way out.

“We do.” Dalton plants himself right on your face. The sweat from his last match soaks your face. It smells bad and you’re doing your best not to gag. “Start the clock.”

The first five minutes go by with nothing much happening. He grinds his ass around on you to make sure that you’re getting the full scent of his dirty ass. He teases you for a while saying that you’ll never be as good a wrestler as him. 

Things change after the next five minutes though. “Uh oh boys.” Dalton says before he releases the most god-awful fart you’ve ever had to smelt in your life. You gag and choke as the fumes go down your nose. It feels like all your nose hairs were just burnt off. “Goddam, that was a bad one.” He gyrates his hips to make sure the smell is all over your face. “Don’t worry, I got more of those.”

BRRRRRPPTTTT

“Jesus Dalton what did you eat?” The guy holding your legs asks. “It smells terrible.”

“It’s the protein shake dude.” Dalton slaps the side of your face. “Hey bitch face, you better start sniffing these hard. I don’t want to be able to smell these.”

“Fuck you!” You yell from underneath his ass.

“What was that? You want more? Anything you want.” Dalton grunts:

PFFFFFFFFFFBBRRFFFFFFTTTTT

“Sniff bitch.” You begrudgingly obey. It was the worst thing you’ve ever done. You thought the first fart was bad but this one was somehow worse. Raw sewage, rotten eggs. You’ve never smelled anything this bad. “Yo, still awake down there?” You nod, slightly, not sure why you’re responding. “Wow, I was sure you’d be out after that one.”

“Bro, if you keep it up, we’re gonna be out.” One of the guys holding you down says.

PFFFFFRBBRBRRFFFFFFFTTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“Fuck dude! I can’t stay in the blast zone.” One of the guys lets go of you and gets away from Dalton.

BRRRRRFFFFTTTTTT BFBRRFFFFTTTTTT

“God stop!” You yell from under his ass. “This isn’t part of the bet!” 

“You agreed that you’d stay under my ass for 30 minutes. You’re just unlucky that my shake decided to hit me now.” 

PFFFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFTTTTT

“I don’t remember telling you to stop sniffing.”

PFBBFFFFFFFFTTTTT PFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT

You learned last time you inhaled, and you’re not going to do that again. You do your best to hold your breath as Dalton farts. But it doesn’t stop him from blasting your face with noxious fumes.

PFFFBBRBRFFFFFTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTT PFBBBBRBRBRFFFFFF

You feel yourself start shaking as you’re running out of breath. And then you hear it, the phone alarm going off telling you 30 minutes is up. You release the breath you were holding, happy that you survived.

PFFFFFFFFBRBRBRRFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

Before getting up from your face, he releases one last fart and you breathe it in. It burns and you have this awful taste in the back of your mouth. You cough and gag rolling over to your side trying to get the awful taste out of your mouth. 

“Well that was fun.” Dalton says uninterested. “Next time, don’t bet against me, you’ll regret it.” He looks at the guys around the room, does a nod and leaves with the other guys.

You lay there from your coughing fit and stare at the ceiling. You’re pretty sure you learned your lesson and are 100 percent sure there will not be a next time. 

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

Phew, I bet his ass really stinks! Haha, thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! This was an older story I had in my archive that I decided to rewrite. Can you do me a favor? Can you like & reblog this post? It really helps my blog grow!

If you're feeling extremely generous, please feel free to leave a tip at my Cashapp $CrazyLlama14.

[hollyhomburg]

My brain has parked itself firmly on the edge of sicfic bily land and the idea of the m/c being sniffly with the flu and feeling terrible but not telling the pack about it 🥺 maybe she even uses blockers to hide her scent from them because they're all so busy and it's probably just a 24 hour thing right?

Only it's not, she keeps getting worse and worse and after a few days she spends it mostly in bed and maybe yoongi, namjoon and jin are away for a few days on a little private honeymoon trip so 🥺 the pack really needs her so she hides it, and yoongi, namjoon, and jin of course would realize in a second that she wasn't feeling her best if they were there but the others are always a little less attentive and she's the pack omega right now right? she's the one who should be looking after them! Not the other way around so she can get through this until the others get back.

Only then- one night right before they get back maybe she's doing the dishes with hobi after dinner, and he's trying to get her to sit down because he can tell she's tired and she slips and falls and he catches her- and she just sort of - whimpers and leans into his hands, so tired of keeping up appearances that she's okay. he slowly guides her to the floor all like "pup!?"

and she can't do much more but whimper and try not to let the nausea in her tummy overcome her because vomiting on one of her alphas is decidedly /not/ attractive and pack omega like. of course the others come rushing at hobi's call- and she tries to push their hands away unsuccessfully. too weak to fend them off.

he realizes how hot her skin is, how flushed her face is and how clammy she feels too- and realizes something's not right. his anxiety climbing as he realizes he can't smell her. "i'm calling jin-" "no don't-" it takes one dark look in her direction before she's conceding.

they descend back on the house in a heartbeat, leaving only one night early and getting back close to 4am. maybe the m/c had started sleeping in her own nest again because she was worried about getting them sick but now- the pack find her cuddled between jungkook and tae in the nest. And she whines the second that they move even an inch from her because the first time in days she's warm.

The fever is tearing through her 🥺 and she whines and pushes up into namjoon's palm when he touches her forehead, hobi's already got his medical bag right next to him. letting out soft little, "i'm here baby, i heard you gave hobi quite the scare huh? i've got you now"

They'd be so careful with her and so forceful with her babying after she'd denied that she needed their help for so long. i just picture her trying to stand up and jungkook pulling her back into the nest, tae tugging her back into a cuddle and reminding her that good babypup's do what their alpha's tell them no if ands or butts 😤 and she's so apologetic about it and worried about getting them sick but they're not hearing it.

Jin would cup her mouth when namjoon gave her medicine, yoongi holding her hand because fussy pups in omega space don't want to swallow yucky stuff ever but she'd be rewarded with a soft scruff, kisses to her flushed cheeks, and warm cuddles after her packmates capable hands rubbing at her sore muscles, making soft grumbly growly noises to help lul her to sleep.

only to be woken up a few hours later with more medicine and soup prepared by jin's hands, she gets kisses for each and every sip she takes until the warmth in her tummy and yoongis hand stroking over the sweaty nape of her neck lul her back to sleep.

maybe she gets a little sniffly and teary eyed, it's only because she feels so rough, and the pack are taking such good care of her. i bet they transport her to the couch on day 2 because as much as she wants to sleep, she also wants to heart them too and see them cuz she just misses her pack so much <3

i think jimin would get so frantic with his scenting, sure that he could make her smell healthy again with just a good scent mark, and he'd gaurd the edge of her bed, call the others whenever she started coughing in her sleep- his instincts possessing him because sick packmates are ones that need extra protections and he can't just /leave/.

the punishment for hiding that she's sick can wait for later- for now, the pack would just be preoccupied with making sure she gets better as quick as possible <3

yeah anyways sicfic bily thoughts cuz i have some sort of nameless cold right now~

[cursedandcarried-blog]

🎁 + Two large mason jars of liniment. Turns out "vials" for Rover mean mason jars.

These should last a while... Lorian accepts them gratefully, and starts tugging off his boots and the armor on his legs so he can rub this on his poor, pained knees. 

[whumperooni]

Every day I think about hockey player natsuo he’s so fucking big and burly and I bet you he doesn’t use deodorant he’s the smelliest and strongest motherfucker you know and goddamn his dick is fucking BIG holy shit

Mmm ya ya ya

I personally prefer a Natsuo that uses deodorant, but for you nonny and for the sheer filthiness of it- fuck yeah 💕

(thirst under cut: sweat kink, dacryphilia, tw dubcon, tw breeding kink, possessive behavior, bad partner behavior, manipulation, size kink (kinda), rough sex)

I like to think he has a bad habit of comin' home straight after practice. No shower, sweaty as a hog, deodorant all rubbed away. A smelly big pup of a man that sheds his shirt and immediately clings to you, tries to love on you.

Your squeals and protests will be with puppy dog eyes and whines of how he missed you and how he thought about you all throughout practice and how he needs you and please, baby?

He'll keep it up until you finally give in and then scoop you up in his arms- soiling your shirt with his grime and ignoring your grimace when your nose bumps against the sweaty hair on his chest. As soon as you're in the room,he's tossing you on the bed- lips laying sloppy, lukewarm kisses everywhere he can while he eagerly takes his cock out.

Salt, sweat- the taste of his lips will have you squirming, but the way he practically forces your head down to his his crotch will have you wincing, wrinkling your nose as he nudges you closer to his hard cock. It's huge, barely able to lift up with his arousal, and nestled in a thatch of snowy, damp hair- each wiry strand drenched with the efforts of his practice.

Funky, pungent, slicked with sweat- it's a nasty smell you're met with, a terrible taste that fills your mouth. Ever the dutiful girlfriend you'll swallow him down- eyes prickling with tears and small gags sounding from you. Natsuo might let you take it easy at first, but there's no way he can hold back for long- his big hands will grip your head and fuck your face until your chin, throat, chest are covered in slobber.

He doesn't care about your sniffles or your whines or your flinches- he likes seeing you meek and defiled; he likes covering you with him from head to toe.

After, he'll be sweet and doting- making you dinner and washing your back in the shower, fetching you everything so your aching, sore body can rest.

The next morning you'll wake up bruised from his grips and completely exhausted- cunt still screaming from the way he fucked you until you were literally blank minded, drooling and whimpering and crying as he bred you again and again.

As you watch him leave for his practice, all you can think about is how happy you'll be for the season to end.

[dear-galileo]

you spin me right around

modern au!geraskier, written for the @thepassifloradiscord fic and art swap!

8.5k words, mature

read on ao3

“I am going to learn magic,” Jaskier declared into his phone. Triss, on the other end, made a noise of surprise. 

“Really? What brought this on? Oh, I can recommend you to one of my professors-”

“I am going to learn magic, and curse Valdo fucking Marx so that whenever he goes to sing, his dick gets smaller.”

“Is that his middle name?” Triss asked. Jaskier paused, already lost in a conversation that he had started. “Fucking? Valdo Fucking Marx? I can’t tell if his parents had great confidence in him, or simply hated him.”

“I’ve made the word cuck in my phone autocorrect to Valdo.” 

“I can’t imagine how often you text the word cuck.” 

“No, but it’s quicker to type that than Valdo Fucking Marx.” Jaskier said easily. Triss laughed, before composing herself. 

“Why are you cursing him? Or should I say, what did he do today?” 

“He’s into painting .” Jaskier revealed dramatically. He was currently walking through one of the many courtyards of Oxenfurt University. Having spent the past two years at this school studying music previously had granted Jaskier zero shame regarding freshmen overhearing his phone conversations. Let them be entertained, lord knows they need it. 

“He’s-” Triss hesitated on the other side of the phone. He could imagine her sitting at her desk in her dorm, twirling a pencil in one hand, her phone in the other. “He’s into painting? Isn’t that a good thing, since he would drop out of your music classes?”

“No.” Jaskier corrected. “He’s into painting alongside his music- he’s making art to represent his songs.” Triss hummed, and Jaskier could tell from the tone that she wasn’t getting the full picture. “Not only has he stolen three of my songs from freshman year and mangled them with his bloody fucking [__], but he’s making toddler-level finger paintings based off of them.” 

“I might need photographic evidence of these.” Triss said. 

“Already sent one to you. It looked like he shat himself on top of a canvas and called it art. I couldn’t bear to stand around and listen to his lecture on what it represented, so I got out when I could.” 

Triss’s laughter echoed through the phone as she checked the photo. “Dear Gods,” she said, putting the phone back to her ear. “That is truly terrible. But how is this magic worthy?” 

“He’s trying to one up me! I bet you he overheard that I am going for that internship at the record studio, and is trying to beat me out.”

“How would bad artwork help him in that case?” 

Jaskier threw up one of his arms, even though Triss couldn’t see him. A freshman with an overloaded backpack stared at him as she walked by. 

“Fucked if I know! But I refuse to let this slide by, I’ve got to do something.” Triss groaned. 

“No, every time you say you’ve got to do something, you end up doing something ridiculous that very much does not need to be done,” she complained. “And half the time you drag me into it.” 

“How many times must I apologize for setting you up on that fake date with him? I didn’t know he was going to spend the entire two hours at the movie talking.”

“You can stop apologizing when I can smell movie theater popcorn without cringing. He tried to hand feed me popcorn , Jask, that’s not something that one could easily forget. He has sweaty hands.”

“Which is why you were never sent on another spy mission- in fact, I gave up the spy missions sophomore year. That’s growth!” 

“If I didn’t know how much you genuinely hated this man, I would say just fuck him and get it over with,” Triss said with a barely suppressed sigh. This was a discussion that they have had before. 

“Getting back to the point-”

“Oh, goody, there’s a point,” Triss said dryly. Jaskier gasped loudly into the phone, just to get his feelings of betrayal across. 

“Rude! You are spending too much time with Yen. She’s a bad influence.” 

“I actually think that she would help you with the penis shrinking spell, if you gave her a good enough reason to.” 

Jaskier considered this for a moment, but Yen still scared him, even after half a year of her dating Triss, his best friend. 

“No, okay. I have to find another medium, and be better at it than Valdo is.”

“You are going to make shitty paintings?” Triss asked. There was movement on her side of the phone. “Oh- Yen’s here, I’m putting you on speaker.”

“Is he complaining about that greasy fuck again?” Yen’s voice distantly said. 

“Yes! He is!” Jaskier called. Yen’s scoff could have been a general one, or because of Jaskier talking about himself in the third person, it was too hard to tell through the phone. “Listen, so I can’t get into painting, a, because that’s too obvious, I would be blatantly stealing his idea, and b, that’s stupid.” 

“I doubt Valdo owns the market to making paintings based off of songs,” Triss started to say. 

“Hush, my lovely beautiful friend,” Jaskier cut her off. “I was going to try wood carving, but then I remembered the last time I held a knife in the kitchen, I managed to nearly chop off my entire hand, so that’s out. That means ice sculptures are out as well. Perhaps sandcastles?”

“We live nowhere near a beach.” Triss reminded him. Jaskier cursed, scowling. He was on his way across campus, back to his car to get to work, so he didn’t have the time to run back to his apartment to scavenge through his closet of abandoned crafts.

“I have an idea,” Yennefer said, suddenly very close to the phone. “Pottery.”

“Like the art of weed?” Jaskier asked, before remembering he was speaking to a very powerful mage who could create a portal to him to smack him, if she so wanted. Thankfully, Yen chose to ignore the joke. 

“Sculpting with clay. I have an old friend who runs a pottery studio in town. They do open house nights every week, where people can try to make their own pieces.” 

“It’s not a castle made out of fine sediment, but that might still do the trick.” Jaskier declared. “Triss, please kiss your lovely girlfriend for me as a thank you.”

“Please do not give me a kiss from Jaskier,” Yen said to Triss. “Is your problem solved? May I spend time with Triss now?” 

Jaskier made kissy noises into the phone until Yen got the point and hung up. A few minutes later, a text from Triss with an address and a name came through. It was just downtown, and thankfully not too far from his apartment. The name provided was Geralt, which the website unhelpfully gave no more information about. 

read the rest of ao3

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Tongue Tied (M)

Genre: SMUT, fluff, crack, demon au (sort of), idol verse, established relationship au, pwp with a side of minor relationship angst

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Word Count:12k

Warnings: explicit sexual content, oral sex, orgasm denial, masturbation, squirting, sex toys, dirty talk, degradation, bladder desperation and brainwashing

A/N: So… this is porn. Apologies to everyone, especially Park Jimin. Blame my anons who goaded me into it. Love you all! Stay hydrated.

Jimin's tongue trails a warm circle around your erect nipple.

"Stop teasing," you groan, threading your fingers through his dark hair and tugging him closer to you.

Jimin obliges, spreading his tongue across the perky bud, sucking it into his mouth, massaging with his lips. Flames of arousal rush through you. His fingers move from your hip to your lower folds, dipping into you, checking how wet you are. He releases your breast and smirks, holding up his fingers to show you the translucent strings stretching between them. "So eager.”

He laves kisses across your throat. His tongue alternates between firm and soft, sucking just to the point of pain, then soothing it away. He moves downward, sliding you up the bed as he works his way toward your swollen center. Every place his tongue touches burns with desire.

Your core throbs as he draws closer and closer to it. Despite dating for six months, Jimin has never gone down on you. The place you most want his talented tongue is the one place it has never been. In the beginning of your relationship, you had assumed oral sex was something he had accidentally overlooked. But now it was starting to seem deliberate.

Jimin sucks a hard kiss onto your hip as he slips his finger back between your folds, spreading your arousal up to your clitoris. He draws a slow circle around the sensitive nub, laughing softly against your belly when you moan out loud.

The closer he gets, the more your desperation builds. You tighten your fingers in his hair to coax him farther down. He pushes your folds apart with his hand, bringing his face in close to inspect your swollen cunt, chuckling as it clenches. Your clit pulses as you wait for him to bring his mouth to it.

But then he's pulling away from you, sitting back on his heels. "I'm going to fuck you now.” He holds you open with one hand and strokes his dick with the other. You bite your lip to hide your disappointment and nod.

There's nothing disappointing about Jimin's dick though. He knows how to use it well. It's not until you're both sweaty, sated and lying in each other's arms that you remember your earlier disappointment.

"Jimin?" You trail a finger over his chest. "Can I ask you a question?"

He gives a soft murmur of assent as he presses a contented kiss to your forehead. His hand strokes lazily up and down your arm.

"Why do you never go down on me?"

His hand stops moving.

You press on. "I blow you all the time, but you never go down on me."

"I don't know.” He shifts underneath you, his eyes not meeting your gaze. "Just like other stuff better."

"Well, sure," you reply, kissing his chest. It had never been your favorite activity either, always making you a bit self-conscious. But it was quickly becoming the thing you most wanted, simply because he wouldn't let you have it. "But it's always fun to try new things."

He continues to duck your gaze as he unwraps his arm from you and scoots away from you over to his side of the bed.

Maybe he was insecure about this particular activity?  You slide in next to him and kiss his shoulder. "I bet you'd be really good at it.”

He shifts away from you again, frowning as you continue to chase him across the bed. "I just don't like it, okay?"

Your mouth falls open in shock. It’s such an un-Jimin-like reaction. He's always so generous with everything in your relationship.

"Why?" Did he have some terrible previous experience he didn't want to discuss? What kind of traumatic cunnilingus backstory would leave him this turned off?

"I don't know." He rolls over so his back is to you. "Can't you drop it?"

"No, I'm not going to drop it!" You sit up and nudge his shoulder. "Are you saying you'll never do it?"

He turns back over to face you, licking his lips. "Would you break up with me if I was?"

"What?"

"How big of a deal is it?"

"I don't know." It never occurred to you that you might face a relationship ultimatum over oral sex. You’re madly in love with Jimin. He’s the man you want to spend the rest of your life with. Surely that matters more than how much time he spends between your legs.  

"Is there something wrong with me?" you ask. Did you taste bad? Smell funky?

“No!" Jimin's eyes widen and he shakes his head. “No, no, it’s just...” He sits up, sighing as he leans back against the headboard. "I was waiting to tell you this until we'd been together a bit longer." He runs a hand through his hair as he gathers his thoughts.  

What secret has your boyfriend been keeping from you all this time? Does he have some weird STD that is only spread through oral? Is he allergic to vagina?

"My tongue is cursed." He rubs the back of his neck, sighing as if relieved of some terrible burden.

You laugh out loud. Of all the explanations you had concocted, none were as ludicrous as this.

"Don't laugh." Jimin frowns, kicking the bed.

"Your tongue is cursed?" It's impossible to not laugh when you say it out loud. "Like by a witch?"

"No, not by a witch, don't be absurd." He squirms and pulls his knees up to his chest. "I'm part demon."

You snort in laughter again. But Jimin looks so hurt by the sound that you bite your tongue.

"My great-grandfather on my father's side was a demon,” Jimin elaborates, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, are you serious?” You arch an eyebrow, afraid of appearing to actually believe him just for him to tease you.

Jimin groans in frustration, twisting the bedsheets in his hands. "I didn't believe my mom when she told me either. But it's true. My grandmother swore it was true."

"Let me get this straight." You sit up a bit straighter, eyeing him skeptically. "The reason you won't go down on me is that you are one-eighth demon, and your tongue is cursed."

He bites his lip and nods.

"Jimin, that's ridiculous."

His shoulders slump as he curls in on himself. You're still waiting for the "gotcha!" you think is coming, but he looks sad and embarrassed.

"Fine," you sigh, willing to hear him out. "What kind of demon?"

He picks his head up and licks his lips. "An incubus."

"Your great-grandfather devoured the souls of women through sex?"

Jimin shifts back and forth, rubbing his hands up and down his legs. "Grandma said he was very handsome."

Your boyfriend is very handsome too. But that doesn't mean he's part demon.

"He didn't hurt anyone." Jimin tries to defend his clearly fictional demon great-grandfather. "He just, you know, hooked up with a lot of women."

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "So which parts of you are demon then?"

"Just my tongue."

"Be serious."

"I am being serious! Look!" He sticks his tongue out as far as it will go. It's very long, reaching all the way to his chin. And it's pointy. But it seems to be a perfectly normal tongue.

"It doesn't look cursed to me."

"It's so long though," he mumbles, having difficulty pronouncing the words with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

"Yeah, but not like supernaturally long." You argue, leaning in closer to inspect the potentially cursed muscle. He wiggles it back and forth as if that will convince you there's something unusual about it. "What does that even mean, a cursed tongue?"

Jimin draws in a deep breath, as if about to reveal a deep, dark secret.

"Any girl that I get off with my tongue…“ He pauses for dramatic effect, narrowing his eyes, “can never come again."

His proclamation hangs in the air of your bedroom, as he waits for you to gasp in shock. You raise an eyebrow instead. "Ever?"

"Except!" He holds up a finger. "On my tongue."

You can't hold back the laughter this time. "So is there some horde of perpetually horny women out there, dying to experience your tongue again?"

He shakes his head and chews on his lower lip. "I've never done it with anyone before." He begins twisting the bedsheets in his hands again. "I didn't want to risk it being true. My mom was really serious when she explained it."

"That's an awkward conversation to have with your mother."

Jimin finally laughs. "Yes, yes it was."

His change in demeanor brings you some relief. But it can't be true. There's no such thing as demons.

"You sure you're not making up excuses to not reciprocate?"

"I'm not making it up!" Jimin smacks the bed in emphasis. "I'm dying to go down on you!"

"You are?" Your earlier arousal knocks between your legs again.

"Yes!" He pushes his hair off his forehead. "Every time I get down there, all I want to do is suck on your needy little clit." Your core clenches and you squirm on the bed next to him. He eyes you up and down and smirks. "To make you fall apart with my tongue." He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in close enough to whisper in your ear. "To be surrounded by you as you come on my face."

"Would it be so bad if we tried it?" you ask, squeezing your thighs together to cope with the tension building between them.

"You'd want that?" His eyes widen and he licks his lips in excitement. "Even if the curse is real?"

"Yes, I'd want that." He's so excited that you don't have the heart to tell him that there's no way the curse is real.

Jimin giggles with delight, gathering your hands into his. "You know I love you right?" He kisses each of your hands. "I love you so much."

"I love you too Jimin," you reply and he pulls you in for a long kiss. His reaction would make you think he'd asked you to marry him.

"We can't do it tonight though," he mutters, frowning. “I’m leaving tomorrow."

Shit. The boys are leaving for their world tour tomorrow. A fact that has slipped your mind in the whole your-boyfriend-might-be-a-demon discussion.

"What better way to say goodbye?" You whisper, leaning in and planting light kisses up and down his neck. You're not going to let some weird family legend stand in the way of your boyfriend getting you off one more time before he disappears for a month.

"You sure?" Jimin raises an eyebrow. "A month is a long time to go."

"I think I'll survive." You've dealt with Jimin's absences before. You don’t like them, but you can’t admit to him how much they bother you. And curses aren't real.

Jimin's whole attitude changes, a dangerous glimmer in his eye. "Yeah?" He kisses your neck as his hand sneaks down between your legs. You're still sensitive and wet and you flinch when he slips his fingers into you, your arms breaking out in goosebumps. "Is this where you want my tongue?" he teases as his index finger brushes against your clitoris.

"Jimin, please," you whine. He pulls his hand back, but you slide your hips forward, chasing after him. You've been waiting for months and all he wants to do is tease.  

"So needy..." The smirk on his lips and predatory gleam in his eyes have you almost believing he is a demon. "It's like you want to give me all your orgasms."

"Curses aren't real," you gasp as he sucks a long kiss into your neck.

"Maybe you don't care if it's real." He trails kisses downward. "Maybe you want me to claim all your pleasure for myself." It's embarrassing the way more arousal drips from you at the idea. "Maybe you want to be alone and desperate, unable to satisfy yourself without me."

It's probably your mind playing tricks on you, but his mouth feels hotter than usual. It burns everywhere he touches you. He pauses his trail downward to suck on your nipple and you arch your back to press into him further.

"I like that idea," he says, releasing your breast and continuing his burning trail downwards. "That no other man will ever be able to satisfy you." He slips his fingers back inside you and you moan. "No toy, no dick, not even your own fingers will be able to bring you relief." His tongue inches downward, interrupted by lingering kisses. Your core is so swollen with arousal, the ache inside you so desperate. He smiles as he curls two fingers upward, so slowly that your thighs begin to tremble. "Every single one of your orgasms will belong to me."

"Please, Jimin." You're going to lose your mind if he keeps teasing like this. You roll your hips against his hand, trying to get his fingers in deeper.

"Is that what you want?" he asks. His mouth is so close you can feel his warm breath on your sensitive swollen skin. "Do you want to give me all your orgasms?"

He looks so serious when he asks, it almost makes you believe. But curses and demons aren't real. It's just a game. A game you’re both enjoying.

"Yes," you whisper. "I want you to have them all, Jimin."

"Good girl." He closes his eyes and exhales, then finally - finally - brings his mouth to your clitoris.

The surge of heat on the swollen bud almost has you coming the moment he takes it into his mouth.

"Holy shit," you groan, rocking your hips upward.

"Easy..." Jimin soothes, placing a firm hand on your hips to hold you down. "I'll take care of you." Then he buries himself between your legs.

His tongue alternates hard and soft as it strokes your clit. Any reservations he had about this have disappeared with the way he relishes you. He slides his fingers inside you and pairs each stroke of his tongue with internal pressure from his fingers. You pulse with arousal inside and out. You wind your fingers through his soft hair and he groans a deep satisfied rumble.

"Please, please," you beg, tugging him against you as you get closer and closer to the edge.

"That's it." He pulls off one last time to catch his breath. "Let me have it." His thumb rolls slowly over your clit as he watches you from between your thighs. "Come for me. Be mine."

He dives back in, the pace of his fingers curling inside you matching the figure-eights his tongue weaves over your clitoris. Heat radiates from his tongue, burning and tingling, so pleasurable it's almost painful. Warmth spreads through you, flowing into you and flooding up your spine and down to your toes. You tug harder on his hair. The groan he releases sends vibrations throughout your core, pushing you over the edge.

"Fuck, Jimin, I'm coming," you gasp. Your muscles clench around his fingers and your hips rock against his face as waves of pleasure cascade through you. It lasts for an eternity as he keeps stroking you, perfectly in time to the rhythms inside you. He keeps at it until you finally whine and squirm away, everything becoming too much.

"That's my girl." He smiles as he places a soft kiss on your inner thigh and chuckles when your skin trembles in response.

Minutes pass as you recover your breath. Jimin's head is still between your legs, trailing soft kisses up and down your inner thigh. It tickles and you try to squirm away, but his grip on your hips is too tight.

"Jimin," you whine, wiggling beneath him.

He ignores you, trailing his wet fingers up and down your leg.

"You know," he says, resting his chin on your thigh. "If the curse is real..."

"The curse is not real, Jimin.”

"If the curse is real,” he talks over you, pinching your inner thigh and making you jump, “then that was your last orgasm for a month." He looks so pleased with himself, dark eyes full of mischief. Your skin tingles under his hungry gaze and you begin to heat up again. "Seems a shame to leave it at that."

"Jimin," you sigh. "I'm not sure I have another one in me tonight."

"Oh, come on." He dives back into you, bumping his nose into your clitoris and causing your whole body to jolt. "I can't leave you with just one." He nuzzles against you. "How will you manage?"

A slight pang of pain hits you that he’s going to be gone for so long. But you don’t want him to see it, so you play sarcastic. "I have a vibrator."

"You do?"

"How else do you think I deal with your touring schedule?"

"Dirty girl..." He nips playfully at your inner thigh. "Where is it?"

You blush. "Under the bed."

"What?" His eyes widen in surprise. He swings his head over the side of the bed, inspecting underneath it. "There's nothing but shoes down here," he says as he hangs upside-down searching for your vibrator.

"In the Adidas box." You hide your face behind your hands as he climbs off the bed.

"Look at you," he teases. "Hiding sex toys in shoeboxes. You are dirty." He laughs a delighted laugh when he opens the correct box and you curl in on yourself further. He climbs back on top of you, pulling your hands away from your face.

You laugh when you see him, a small bullet vibrator hanging by its cord from between his teeth.

"I want to see it," he says as he drops the vibrator into your hands. "Show me how you get yourself off, if I'm not around to do it."

You laugh, rolling your eyes. "Two is kind of my max. I don't know if I can."

"I believe in you, sweetheart." Jimin sits back on his heels to watch you, keeping his hand on the controller connected to the vibrator in your hand.

Your heart beats faster as he stares at you. His semi-erect dick dangles between his spread knees.

"Go on," he encourages, turning the vibrator on.

You move the vibrator down between your legs. It makes a spluttering sound as it encounters your wet folds.

"Listen to that." Jimin smiles and scoots forward on his knees, licking his lips. "Listen to how wet you are. I bet you can come again."

The vibrator does feel good against your sensitive skin and watching him watch you fills you with an arousing mix of embarrassment and confidence. The pleasure builds quickly, everything still wound up from your previous orgasm.

He increases the speed on the vibrator. "Are you getting close?" he asks, his own erection rising as he watches you.

You groan and nod, rolling the vibrator in circles across your palm, grinding it into your clitoris. The sounds of the vibrator, the sloppy wetness of your arousal, and your panting breaths fill the room as Jimin waits to watch you come.

But the closer the edge of your pleasure gets, the more distracted you become. He's just sitting there waiting, with that smug grin on his face. What if you can't come? What if he thinks this stupid curse is real? You just came, it's perfectly reasonable that you might not be able to come again right now.

The further you get into your own head, the further your climax drifts away.

"It's not working, is it?" He strokes his now fully erect cock and wiggles his eyebrows. "Need some assistance?" He turns up the vibrations to their maximum setting.

The drive to come surges back as you press harder against yourself with the vibrator and watch him stroke himself. He shuffles forward on his knees, until his dick is right next to your face.

"Suck my cock," he urges, nudging your cheek with his erection. "Do a good job and I'll let you come."

You want to roll your eyes at the suggestion that he has any control over whether or not you come, but his erection is too tempting. You sit up slightly and draw him into your mouth.

"That's a good girl," he groans. "My desperate little cockslut."

He's so hard on your tongue. You let go of the vibrator to angle yourself better. He moans when you sink down so far that your nose bumps into his pubic bone.

"Fuck," he exhales and his hands tremble as he caresses your cheek. "You take it so well." He picks the vibrator back up from where you dropped it onto the bedspread and positions it back between your legs. You jolt and moan, sending vibrations through his dick. He threads his fingers into the hair at the back of your neck, easing you up and down his cock.

You hover at the edge of coming, so debauched and needy and desperate to please him. He rolls the vibrator faster around your clitoris and you're so close. "Can you come for me?" he whispers, stroking your hair. "I want to see you come with my cock in your mouth."

You groan and rock your hips back and forth against his hand, chasing the edge as he guides you up and down his dick. But you can't quite get there. Every time you reach the tipping point, his cock bumps into the back of your throat and you gag.

"You can't do it, can you?" he teases, pace increasing as he gets more and more excited. The vibrator drops to the bed as he uses both hands to grip the back of your head. "You're mine now. All your orgasms are mine," he chokes out as he loses control of himself and comes down your throat, holding you to him and forcing you to swallow his whole release.

His thighs tremble as he sinks down onto the bed. "I love you," he says, kissing your cheek. He folds his arms behind his head, closing his eyes and sighing happily. Your core aches, but Jimin looks like he’s about to fall asleep.

“Hey!” You poke him in the ribs. "You can't leave me like this."

He opens one eye and laughs. "You admitting that you need me?"

You pout, not wanting to admit anything, but really wanting to get off one last time before bed. He's leaving tomorrow. Just because you want him right now doesn't mean you're cursed.

"Please, Jimin." You nudge the vibrator back into his hand, core clenching again when he takes it from you. "Help me."

"Of course." He smiles and kisses you again, before scooting down the bed and positioning himself between your legs one last time.

"So wet and swollen," he teases, as he traces a finger up and down your labia, chuckling as it twitches.

"Quit teasing," you groan, smacking his hand in irritation.

"Yes, dear." He brings the buzzing vibrator back to your clitoris and your hips buck upward to meet him. You're so close to coming you cry out, reaching out for him and grabbing on to whatever you can reach. One hand grips his shoulder as the other tangles into his hair. "That's it," he murmurs. "Come for me."

His warm wet tongue slides in next to the vibrator and you shatter into a million pieces.

Your fragmented mind floats above you as you tense in pleasure, every muscle contracted as it all becomes too much. You sob as your third orgasm of the night is ripped from you. Jimin massages both the vibrator and his tongue against you, pulling every last drop of arousal from you.

You collapse into a pile of jelly. "Fuck," you breathe out. "That was amazing."

"Glad you enjoyed it." Jimin beams from between your legs, giving one small kiss to your pubic mound before sliding back up and cradling you in his arms. "Hope it was worth it," he mumbles, kissing your forehead as you close your eyes.

You nuzzle into his warm, muscular chest. It certainly seems worth it right now. But curses aren't real. It's the last thing you think before you fall into a deep satisfied sleep. Curses aren't real.

______

You roll over the next morning to find Jimin’s side of the bed empty. Running water in the bathroom tells you he’s already up and getting ready to leave.

There’s a tingle between your legs, an echo of the night before. Your legs and crotch are slick with a mix of saliva, arousal and sweat. It should be disgusting, but it makes you smile mischievously. Memories of last night replay in your mind as you slide your hand down between your legs and contemplate how you got so messy.

The bathroom door is closed. You wiggle over to Jimin’s side of the bed and pick up his phone. It’s 5:30 am. Do you have enough time to talk him into coming back to bed? Your core pulses and you run a teasing finger around it. It’s so sore that it almost hurts to touch it. Almost, but not quite enough to stop you. You miss the heat of his mouth, the possessive way he talked, his groans of pleasure as he consumed you.

“Jimin,” you call out, unable to wait for him any longer.

The running water stops. “Yeah?” he calls out, not opening the door.

“Are you almost done in there?”

“One second.” The water switches back on briefly before he shuts it off and opens the door.

Jimin is shirtless, patting his face dry with a towel. You lick your lips at the sight of him, the tingle between your legs escalating to full ache.  He’s dressed in only black slacks, hair wet and tousled from his shower. Your core pulses as you watch a drop of water from his hair drop onto his chest and trail down the muscular planes of his stomach.

His eyes rake over you, making you feel naked despite the covers. You pull your hand away from yourself, embarrassed. Your possibly demonic boyfriend smirks.

“Last night not enough for you?” He crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe, looking all too pleased with himself. “Greedy girl.”

You want to scoff at him, but your pussy clenches traitorously instead. His dark eyes burn even hotter, as if he knows.

He chuckles. “I’d offer to help you out, but I just washed my face.”

You roll your eyes and squirm under the covers. “There are other ways to help me.” You don’t need his tongue. His fingers or his cock would do just as nicely.

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow as he walks over to his nightstand and picks up his phone. “I’ve only got ten minutes before the car arrives though.”

The pang of distress at his leaving returns. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“I thought you could use the rest.” He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. “I didn’t want to wake you earlier than I had to.”

It feels especially hard to say goodbye today. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I bet you will,” he replies, striding across the room to fish a white button-down shirt from the closet, still smirking. “A month is a long time to go.”

“I like more about you than just the sex.” You cross your arms and pout. “Won’t you miss me?”

Jimin laughs brightly as he buttons up his shirt. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “Of course, I’ll miss you.” He takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” It doesn’t feel like enough to convey how much you’re going to miss him. But you don’t want to be that needy girl who begs her boyfriend to stay.

He smiles and picks up your hands, lifting them to his lips and kissing the back of each. Then he pauses and sniffs. He can smell the arousal on your hand and you are mortified. His eyes flick back up to your blushing face and he cocks an eyebrow, pleased smirk on his lips. "You sure you don't want my assistance one last time?"

You clench your thighs together and squirm under his heated gaze. "I wouldn't want you to be late." You can always get yourself off after he leaves.

"Yeah," he replies, glancing at his watch. "I should get going." He cups your cheek in his palm, tilting your chin up to give him a kiss goodbye.

You pour all your unspoken longing into your last kiss. His mouth is warm, his lips soft, and when his tongue enters your mouth, your whole body breaks out in droplets of sweat. You thread your fingers into his damp hair, pulling him closer as you moan against his lips.

He laughs as he pulls away from you. "So needy," he teases, wiping his lips with his thumb. "I like it." You want to scoff at how patronizing he sounds, but then he places a soft kiss on your forehead. "Be good for me," he whispers and you can't help the whine you emit as he lets go of you.

What is the matter with you? You've always prided yourself on being a mature adult who was respectful of his schedule, not some hormonal teenager who can't live without her boyfriend. You must be horny. As soon as he leaves, you can solve that problem and go about your day as usual.

You watch Jimin leave, admiring the way the tight black pants show off his best assets. "Hurry back!” you call after him. He blows you a kiss, and then he's gone.

The moment he's gone, you feel colder and emptier. You slide back down under the covers, drawing them up over your shoulders, and sighing broken-heartedly. It's dramatic, but no one is around to see you, so you let yourself wallow for a moment.

The tingle between your legs recaptures your attention. You glance over to the nightstand where your vibrator waits. Your pelvic muscles twitch in excitement. You scoop the vibrator up and sneak it under the bed covers.

You take your time easing into your arousal. You're still sore and sensitive from last night, so you don't go straight for the maximum setting. You tease yourself slowly, like Jimin would. His kiss lingers on your lips. Your fingers miss his soft hair. The vibrator echoes the burning, tingling pleasure of his tongue.

Just as you reach your plateau, cranking the vibrator to the highest setting and settling in for the home stretch, your phone buzzes.

Today 10:35 am

Jimin: What are you doing?

You: Nothing...

Jimin: Nothing? You sure about that? You sure you're not fingering that needy clit right now?

You: I am doing no such thing.

Jimin: You've got the vibrator out then.

You: Fuck. How do you know that?

Jimin: You seemed pretty needy when I left. ;)

You: Where are you?

Jimin: Pulling into the airport.

You groan out loud. The idea of him texting you filth while surrounded by his members made you flush with heat. You ignore him for a moment as you ride the wave of pleasure that surges through you at the thought.

Jimin: You going to answer me?

You: I have the vibrator.

Jimin: Dirty girl... Did you cum?

You: No, not yet

Jimin: Can't get it done without me huh?

You: just taking my sweet time. thank you very much. curses aren't real

Jimin: prove me wrong then. cum for me

Your clitoris throbs as you lower the vibrator back to it, buzzing excitedly. The edge of your orgasm hangs just out of reach. You read back Jimin's command and press the vibrator harder against yourself, rocking your pelvis up and down. It's right there. You ride the edge for a moment, then breathe out and let yourself tip over.

Your whole body goes numb. All feeling disappears, as if you are floating in mid-air, all sense of time and place gone and you feel nothing. Your pelvic muscles contract rhythmically, as if you’re having an orgasm, but you can’t feel it. You feel nothing.

Blinding pain rips through you. The vibrator is a curling iron pressed to your clit. The sheets burn everywhere they touch you. You cry out in shock and fling the source of pain away from you. You tear the bedcovers off as the vibrator clatters into the dresser on the far side of the room.

What the fuck just happened? The pain disappears as quickly as it appeared and you are the same, cunt still pulsing with arousal. You lie in a pool of sweat, panting.

You look over at Jimin's message. Should you tell him what just happened? What if he thinks it's the curse?

You shake your head. No. Curses aren't real. It must all be in your head.

Today 10:42 am

You: did it

Jimin: really?

You feel a slight twinge of guilt as you lie to him.

You: really

Jimin: oh...

Is he disappointed? Did he want you to have an ancient demonic curse? He told you to come for him. You watch typing bubbles appear and disappear several times, but no messages come through. You feel overheated and overwhelmed. You get up out of the bed, ignoring the ache between your legs, deciding to have a cold shower instead.

Jimin: getting on the plane now

You: okay, have a safe flight! I love you! Call me when you land!

Jimin: yup, will do

No "I love you too"? Was he mad at you? Upset? You frown as you stand in your bathroom and watch his flight take off on the flight tracker app on your phone.

_____

It’s a long eleven hours as Jimin flies to Los Angeles. Every time you think about him, the slight tingle between your legs returns. You make the shower ten degrees colder to try to calm yourself down, but it provides only temporary relief. You are on edge and restless all day, but too afraid of the strange thing that happened this morning to try masturbating again.

By the time midnight rolls around, you are very tired and very frustrated. You should go to bed and talk to Jimin in the morning. But as you watch the plane get closer and closer to landing, you can’t fall asleep.

His plane lands and you wait for him to text you. Five minutes go by, then ten, with no message. You can’t take it anymore.

Today 12:18 am

You: Did you arrive safely?

Jimin: Just landed

You: Can you talk?

He’s only been gone half a day, but it already feels too long. You’re annoyed with yourself for feeling this needy.

Jimin: Not right now. Maybe in a couple of hours

You: I have to go to bed…

Jimin: You should go to bed then

You frown. Usually he would plead with you to wait a little longer, or ask if he could wake you up when he was free. You’ve had many whispered conversations at 4 am because it was the only time he could talk.

You can’t let on how much you already miss him though. You don’t want to be one of those girls who becomes a burden. This was the trade-off to dating an idol.

You: Okay, good night then

Jimin: good night

You frown at your phone again, before finally giving up and setting it down on the nightstand.

You stare at the dark ceiling of your bedroom wishing he was here with you, instead of halfway around the world. You roll over and hug the pillow next to you. It smells like him. It triggers a deep knock of the same arousal that’s been haunting you all day. Maybe it would help you sleep if you got some relief.

You slip your fingers down into your underwear and find yourself already wet. You trail your fingers through the sticky wetness curiously. You are not usually this wound up so quickly. It’s ridiculous that the smell of him alone can get you this excited.

You bury your face in his pillow and inhale again, amazed as you feel another burst of wetness gush from you. God, you miss him. How do you miss him this much when he’s been gone less than a day? His arms, his hands, his tongue, his lips are all you can think about.

You sigh softly as you trail a damp finger up around your eager clitoris. You close your eyes and imagine the hand belongs to Jimin instead. He’s here with you. His lips on yours, his hand curled into your hair, whispering how you belong to him.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he whispers in your head. “Make yourself wet and desperate for me.” You groan as you pick up the pace of your hand. “Good girl, you’re doing so good.”

“Jimin, please,” you plead into the silence of your empty bedroom.

The Jimin in your head laughs. “You know it’s hopeless right?” he teases, smirking at you in that self-satisfied way where he knows he has you exactly where he wants you. “Every one of your orgasms belongs to me.”

You feel the edge of pleasure begin to slip away. You speed up your hand and chase after it, but it’s no use. The pleasure fades aways and you are left numb, empty and wet.

“Told you I was cursed,” imaginary Jimin teases. You huff in frustration, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, and roll over away from the pillow that smells like him. You shut your eyes tight. Curses aren’t real.

_______

Your dreams are full of Jimin. Jimin’s hands, Jimin’s chest, Jimin’s tongue. Over and over, he teases you toward your climax in your sleep. Always pausing, always stopping before you get to your end. By the time you wake up in the morning, you are swollen and dripping with need.

Your alarm sounds. It’s Monday. Work starts in an hour. You reach down and confirm how wet you are, more wet than you have ever been before. Your thighs slide past each other, slick with arousal. You can’t go to work like this.

It’s time to break out the big guns.

You lean over the side of your bed and fish out the other shoebox. The one you couldn’t tell Jimin about. The one that contains your dildo. Sometimes the vibrator alone wasn’t enough. Sometimes you needed a bit more. Sometimes you needed to be filled.

“Won’t do any good,” imaginary Jimin whispers in your head. You ignore him.

You slide the toy through your folds, slicking it up with your excessive wetness. The sides of your entrance tingle with heat as you stroke over them.

“Imagine it’s me,” Jimin teases. The fake cock heats up in your hands and you can almost believe it's his.

“Please, fuck me, Jimin” you beg, even though Jimin is thousands of miles away.

“Would if I could, sweetheart,” he answers. You picture him running his tongue over his plush lower lip. “But that’s not what you really want.”

“No such thing as curses,” you urge as you slide the dildo into you. “Fuck…”

Being finally filled again scratches an itch you hadn’t been able to before. It’s a pleasure and a relief all at once. The toy slides in easily with how soaking wet you are.

You pull up some porn on your phone and prop it against a pillow before grabbing the vibrator. You’re done fucking around. You need to get off right now and then go to work.

The porn isn’t very interesting though. The only thing you want to think about is Jimin. You close your eyes, listening to the audio but picturing your boyfriend. It doesn’t take long before you feel the pleasure crescendo. You let out a sob. It’s happening, it’s finally happening. You aren’t cursed.

The phone rings.

“Fuck!” You throw the vibrator down in frustration.

It’s Jimin. If it were anyone else, you would let it go to voicemail. But you really want to hear his voice. You turn the vibrator off so he won’t hear it, but keep sliding the silicone cock in and out of you.

“Hey babe,” Jimin’s voice is a little raspy. “I thought I could catch you before work. What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you lie, sliding the dildo further inside yourself and biting your lip to conceal a groan.

He chuckles. “Nothing?”

“Nothing. Getting ready for work.” You refuse to give him the satisfaction of admitting that you’re actually naked in bed, dripping for him. “What are you doing?”

“Finally made it to the hotel,” he groans. You can picture him stretching his arms over his head as he spreads himself across his big empty bed. “Was thinking about you. Thought you might be thinking of me.”

Does he know? How could he know? Does he have magical “knows when his girlfriend is horny” demon powers”?

Shit. No. Jimin is not a demon. There are no such things as demons.

“Did you just call for phone sex?” You want to sound irritated, but your pelvic muscles clench traitorously around the dildo.

“Can’t stop thinking about yesterday.” His voice gets lower and you can hear the slick sounds of his hand moving over his dick in the background. “You were so needy for me. I liked it.”

A sharp blade of anger slices through your fog of lust.

“Jimin.” You pull the dildo out of you, setting it to the side. “You can’t ignore me all day yesterday and then expect me to talk you off like nothing happened.”

“Aww, come on, we were so busy. I called you as soon as I got here,” he whines. “I’ll make sure you get off too.”

You aren’t sure he can. Not with his voice alone. You need him here with you. But you’re not going to admit that.

“I have to go to work.” You are rapidly running out of time.

“Don’t you miss me?” he asks. You can practically hear his pout through the phone.

“Do you miss me?” You want to know why he hadn’t called earlier, but you don’t want to seem too needy.

“Of course, I do, baby. I love you.”

The tension in you eases slightly. Maybe you had been making things up.

“Miss you so much,” he continues and you can hear the sounds of his jerking off pick up speed. “Miss that sweet little cunt.”

It’s just about sex. He doesn’t miss you, he just wants to get off. “I have to go Jimin.”

“What? No! Don’t go.”

“I’m going to be late for work.” You hang up on him, feeling a vindictive victory. Your core is still wet and aching, but your anger powers you long enough to get you up and into the shower.

______

One cold shower and a hot cup of coffee later and you are on your way to work.

The commute sucks. Your lingering arousal refuses to abate. Your mind dwells on Jimin. Sitting down on the subway has you springing to your feet as the train starts moving, vibrations from the rails threatening to have you soaking through your underwear. Memories of Jimin commanding you to orgasm echo through you as you fight to calm your breathing.

You haven’t heard from real Jimin since you hung up on him. He probably fell asleep.

At work, you shift uncomfortably at your desk. You try to answer some emails, but every few seconds your core pulses, forcing you to reposition yourself. Your clothes itch. Everything is too hot. You shrug off the cardigan that you usually need to cope with the building’s air conditioning system. But then you rush to put it back on when you notice how hard your nipples are, poking through your bra and shirt.

The only thing that can distract from the tingling all over you is the buzz of your phone.

Today 10:22 am

Jimin: I’m sorry :(

You: Go on…

Jimin: I’m sorry I ignored you. This whole thing has me a bit thrown off.

You: How so?

Jimin: I was just so sure that the curse was a real thing, you know? I felt pretty stupid that it wasn’t.

You bite your lip and shift uncomfortably in your seat, pressing your legs together. Should you tell him? No… curses aren’t real. You’re just missing your boyfriend. That’s okay.

You: It’s okay, Jimin. Thank you.

Jimin: Is it bad that I kind of wanted it to be real?

You: You did?

Jimin: Well, it’s pretty sexy right?

Sweat trails from your hairline down your neck.

You: I have to be able to live my life Jimin. Can’t be sitting around waiting for you.

Jimin: I’m sorry we’re gone so much.

Shit. Now you’ve made him feel bad for his work schedule, something you swore you’d never do.

You: It’s okay. I’ll be okay.

I’ll be okay. Curses aren’t real. I’ll be okay. Curses aren’t real.  

You repeat the mantra under your breath until you make it to the end of the work day.

_______

The rest of the work week passes in much the same way, days of jaw clenching and sweating until you can rush home and lie in bed with the vibrator. You edge over and over, afraid of the pain you experienced last time, until you pass out exhausted.

You manage to make it to Friday. There’s a big meeting at nine. Your whole office, crammed into one conference room. At least this way you have an excuse to linger at the edge of the meeting, rather than sit leaking all over an office chair. It’s the first time you’ve had to be around this many other people at once.

“Do you think they can tell?” demon Jimin whispers in your head. “Do they know how wet and desperate you are right now?”  

You teter at the edge of the room. You clench in horror as a drop of something begins running down the inside of your leg. You’re too far gone to tell if it is arousal or sweat.

A colleague next to you leans over to ask you a follow-up question on something your boss just said, but you cannot hear them over the buzzing in your head.  They look at you in confusion. “Are you alright?”

No, you are not alright. You’re becoming dumber with each passing moment. Sweat beads up on the back of your neck. You mutter something about not feeling well and run for the restroom.

You slam the door to the stall behind you, ripping off your cardigan and undoing several buttons of the blouse underneath. You can’t breathe. You need air. You need relief. You slip your hand underneath your skirt. Your fingers are cool against your burning core. It’s a relief to touch yourself again.

“God, you’re a mess.” Jimin whispers in your head. You want to cry from how humiliating this is. “Can you imagine if they knew what you were doing in here?”

“Jimin…” you plead, unable to stop yourself.

“Shhh… ” he chuckles. “Don’t let them hear you.”  

You bang your head back into the stall door in frustration. If you could just come, if you could just get five minutes of relief. Maybe the pain would be better, at least it would be a different sensation. You speed up your hand, chasing any form of relief.

“Such a dirty girl. Getting yourself off in the bathroom to the mere memory of me. What are we going to do with you?”  

Your fingers slurp through the slick leaking from you. The noises fill the small office bathroom. It’s disgusting and debauched and you can’t stop yourself.

“Listen to that.” Jimin whispers. “You’re so hopeless.”

Your orgasm dances tantalizingly near, but your hand is starting to cramp up.

“Don’t stop now.” Jimin urges. “Keep rubbing. That’s it. The more desperate you are, the more control I have.”

“Fuck…” you curse.

The bathroom door opens, noises of chatter and typing pouring in from the larger office. “Everything okay in there?”

Your face burns with humiliation and your back drips with sweat. “I’m okay!” you call out, even though you aren’t, not even a little.

You’ll never get relief here. It takes all your strength to pull your fingers away from your swollen cunt. Especially with Jimin whispering in your ear to keep touching yourself.

You adjust your skirt and rebutton your blouse as best you can.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you emerge from the stall, not looking at the colleague who has come to check on you. “Stomach bug.” You hope your excessive sweating sells the idea that you are actually ill.

“Go home!” your colleague insists, waving their hands at you. “Don’t be spreading your norovirus around here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think that is a good idea.” You nod, rinsing off your hands and patting a damp cloth on your face.

Imaginary Jimin grins, his dark eyes burning in your mind’s eye at the idea of having you all to himself again. “I think that’s a good idea too.”  

_______

The first thing you do when you get back to your apartment is strip out of your clothes, leaving a trail of sweat-soaked clothing from your front door to the bedroom. You climb back into bed and grab the vibrator, hissing in relief as it clicks on, feeling like you can breathe for a moment.

“You know, you’re only going to make it worse.” Demon Jimin continues to taunt you. “The more you touch yourself, the more you’ll want me.”

“Please, Jimin, please,” you beg, even though there’s nothing your imaginary boyfriend can do for you.

“What will we do with you?” the demon smirks, tutting in mock disapproval. “Can’t even work a full day. How will you keep a job? I’ll have to take you everywhere with me, never too far away. My personal slut.”

“No, Jimin, please…” Everything hurts. Your folds are red and irritated. Your hand cramps from pressing the vibrator into you. But you can’t stop.

“It’s okay, my love. Keep rubbing yourself. Melt your brain away. Be mine. There’s nothing else you need to do. That’s my good girl.”

All conscious thought begins to slip from you. There is only aching burning need. Jimin’s voice echoes in your head, drowning out all your attempts to fight him.

“What an embarrassment you are. So wet and needy. Filthy girl. I won’t be able to take you anywhere. You’ll have to wait around my hotel room, begging me to take pity on you. My own horny little pet.”

Waves of desire roll through you, washing away any other aspirations. Just to be his. To be only his.

“Won’t that be easier? Nothing to worry about. No work, no chores. Your only job will be to stay wet and ready for me. And you’ll be so good at it. I’ll use you when I feel like it and only let you come once I’m satisfied. Every single orgasm will be mine.”

A groan rips from your throat, more animal than human. Tremors run up and down your spine.

“I’ll have to be careful not to let you come too often though,” Jimin teases. “I like you like this. All needy and desperate for me. Want to keep you like this. My brainless little fucktoy.”

You sob. He’s right. It’s all you’re good for now. Nothing but a shivering pile of desperation.

The only thing that saves you from drifting under the demon’s spell is the ring of your phone. Jimin is calling you. Real Jimin. Your only lifeline.

“Hello?” Your voice is raspy and parched. You click off the vibrator so he can’t hear it. But that only makes the need worse, so you replace it with your hand.

“Hello?” Jimin answers. “Are you sleeping?”

“No…” Should you be asleep? You have no idea what time it is.

“You sound weird.”

You switch the phone to speaker and rest it next to your head on the bed so he can’t hear your heavy breathing.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you all week.” He sounds a bit upset, and very far away.

You have no answer. No, things were not okay, but there was nothing he could do about it when he’s thousands of miles away.

“Beg him,” demon Jimin whispers. “Go on, beg him to let you come. It will be funny.”

“I can’t,” you mutter under your breath, groaning in frustration.

“What?” Jimin’s voice calls from the phone. “I can’t hear you. Are you still there?”

“I… I can’t do this right now Jimin.”

“Are you still at work?” His tone has shifted from upset to confused.

“No, no, I went home.”

“Are you sick?” Jimin asks through the phone. “Hello?”

A small sob bubbles its way up out of your throat.

“This conversation is boring,” the Jimin in your head insists. “Turn the vibrator back on.”

“I don’t have time for this right now, Jimin.”

“What are you doing?” Real Jimin sounds worried. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Go on,” the demon whispers. “Tell him you can’t come without him. Tell him you belong to him now. Tell him his pathetic excuse for a girlfriend can’t live without him.”

“Jimin please!” you cry out. “I can’t do it anymore, please!” Tears are rolling down your cheeks. “Please let me come.”

“What? Are you playing with yourself right now?” he asks, incredulous.

Somehow the vibrator has turned back on and you rock against it, even as you wish you could stop. “I can’t help it,” you sob. “I can’t stop Jimin. I can’t stop.” You’re useless and pathetic. He’s going to leave you and you’ll never get relief again. “I’m sorry. Please let me come.”

“You can come! You can come!” he shouts through the phone, but of course, that does nothing to help you.

“I can’t come without you!” you sob. “You were right. The curse is real.”

“Huh? But, but... at the airport, you said you did.”

You groan, still chasing relief that isn’t coming. “I lied, Jimin, I’m sorry.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the phone. “Why would you lie to me?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know. But it’s real and I can’t… I can’t do anything without you. You have to come back.”

“I can’t come back. We have a show tomorrow.”

“ He’s not going to help you.” The demon is still there, waiting for you.

“Please, Jimin, please come home.” you beg. “I need you.”

“This is my job. I can’t leave.”

“What about my job, Jimin? What about my life? You can’t leave me like this!”

“It’s only been a week! Can’t you deal with it for a little longer?”

“Fuck you Park Jimin! You did this to me!”

“You said it wasn’t real!”

“He’s useless,” demon Jimin begins to drown out your boyfriend. “Come back to me. Be mine.”

“I have to go Jimin.”

“No, don’t hang up. We can figure this out.”

“You can’t help me.” You hang up the phone and toss it back onto your nightstand.

“Good girl.” The demon hisses in satisfaction. “Let it all go. Let your mind go.” You cry, still rocking against the vibrator, searching for relief that isn’t coming.

______

Your mind slowly leaves you over the next few days. You can get a few minutes of clarity if you’re willing to push yourself all the way over the edge, the searing pain providing you with enough mental clearness to call in sick to work or order food. But every time you do, it leaves you with even less with even less mental clarity.

At some point, you stop keeping track of the days. You stop sleeping. You stop eating. Eventually, even getting out of bed becomes too much work.

The bed sheets are wet, a mixture of sweat and vaginal secretions. You need to pee.

“God, you’re disgusting.” Demon Jimin laughs in your head. “He’s never going to want you now. Wet yourself like the animal you are and be done with it.”

You whine, hiding your face beneath your pillow and trying to distract yourself with the vibrator from the growing need to urinate.

The phone rings. Jimin is calling. He’s been calling for days, but you can’t answer him. You can’t let him know what you’ve become. He’ll never want you again.

There’s a loud banging on your front door. Who could that be? You haven’t ordered any food in a while, not really sure how long.

“Ignore it,” the demon instructs. “Lie here in this bed and piss yourself.”  

You wrap the pillow around your head, unsure if you are trying to drown out the pounding on the door or the demon whispering in your ear.

“Open the door!” A loud, frantic voice carries through the door and you curl in on yourself. You don’t know who they are, but you can’t let them see. You can’t let them know. The pounding stops, followed by a loud thud that rattles the door on its hinges. “Goddamn it!” The voice shouts. Then, a softer voice calls through the door. “Baby, please open the door. Please, let me in.” It’s Jimin. Real Jimin. He’s here.

The overwhelming drive for him is the only thing that could propel you up and out of the bed. You’re shaky on your feet, a bit dizzy. The world is not entirely stable. But you manage to make it to the door and unlatch the lock before collapsing in a heap next to the entry.

For a second, there’s nothing. The door stays shut and you are worried that you hallucinated the whole thing. Of course he’s not here. He has more important things to be doing than dealing with his pathetic girlfriend.

But then the door bursts open.

“Babe?” Jimin calls for you as he steps into the apartment, kicking off his shoes. He’s wearing the same white dress shirt and black slacks that he left you in. Maybe he’s a figment of your imagination.

“Jimin…” You reach out for him, unable to believe he’s actually here, needing to feel whether or not he is solid.

“Shit.” His eyes widen as he finds you crumpled up and naked on the floor. “Are you okay?” He drops his overnight bag on the threshold and kneels in front of you, cupping your face in his hands. “Tell me what’s happening.”

You don’t know how to answer him. You don’t know what’s happening. But his fingertips are cool against your feverish, sweaty skin. He brushes the hair out of your face so he can look you in the eyes. You only know you need him.

“Jimin, I need you, please.” Your hands reach for him, searching for more of his skin to cool yourself against. You’re untucking his shirt from his pants and trying to undo his belt buckle, but he bats your hands away.

“Woah...” He grabs your hands to stop you as you battle him for his belt. “Babe, slow down, talk to me.”

He doesn’t want you. He’s repulsed by you. The demon was right. He’ll never touch you again. You’re worthless. You’re repulsive. You burst into tears. “Please, Jimin, please, I can’t,” you sob, nearly incomprehensible.

“Shh, shh...” He runs his hands over your shoulders. “Shh… it’s going to be okay. I’m going to take care of you.” He scoops you up into his arms and carries you down the hall, back toward your room. “I was so worried,” he says as he cradles you against him.

You can only respond by nuzzling your face into his chest, the cool cotton of his white shirt absorbing the heat from your skin.

“Your work called and said you haven’t been in since last week.” He kisses the top of your head and inhales the smell of your hair. “Why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

You ought to feel bad, but it was hard to feel too bad when you had what you finally wanted, Jimin back here with you.  

“I thought something terrible had happened to you.” He pauses at the door to the bathroom, waiting for an explanation.

“It’s the curse,” you whine, covering your face with your hands. “I’m cursed. You cursed me.”

“I’m so sorry.” He set you down on the toilet, before turning on the shower. “I didn’t know it would be like this.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead and turns to leave the bathroom.

You panic. Where is he going? He can’t leave you like this. “Jimin, no, don’t leave.” You chase him out of the bathroom, catching him around the middle and clinging to his waist. “You can’t leave me.”

“I’m not leaving,” he chuckles, trying to unfasten your arms from around him, but you refuse to let go. “I was just getting undressed.” He sighs, picking you up once again and carrying you back to the bathroom. He tries to set you down again, but you whine, clinging to his neck.

Giving up, he steps directly into the shower, still dressed, cradling you in his arms. The white dress shirt turns translucent as the water hits it, clinging to his skin. The water runs down his torso and thighs and you groan with need. The water is warm, but it feels cool compared to how hot your skin is.

“Jimin, please.” You’re begging again. “I need you.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here,” he answers. Your legs tremble underneath you as he puts you back on your feet.  He grabs the bottle of body wash and squirts out a generous dollop, lathering it up in his hands.  “I’m gonna take care of you.”

It’s all you can do to stay standing as he caresses you. He removes the shower head from its hook so he can follow each soapy caress with water to wash you clean.

He starts with your neck, then your breasts, then your stomach, gentle hands massaging over you. It only makes the ache for him worse.  He reaches the puffy and swollen labia and you gasp, legs trembling.

“Please, Jimin, please,” your endless chant of pleading begins again.

“Shh…. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He runs the showerhead over your aching core to rinse off the soap and your legs give out entirely. You collapse against the wall behind you, unable to support yourself.  Still dressed in his soaking wet clothes, he kneels in front of you. He spreads your legs, investigating your swollen folds with his soapy hands. Your clitoris throbs, hard and angry and red. You shiver as he runs the water stream over again. “Does it hurt?” he asks, watching your face as he strokes over your tender core with his fingertips.

“No, no,” you shake your head emphatically. “Not anymore.” The only pain now is the distance between you. “Please, please, please…”

He slides closer to you, brushing his dark wet hair back off his forehead and licking his lips. He picks up one of your legs and wraps it over his shoulder, then the other, carrying you on his shoulders as he buries his face in your core. You are so on edge, have been on edge for so long, that you’re already at the peak of your arousal the moment his tongue touches you.

Something monstrous is building inside you. A sensation like nothing you’ve ever felt before moves through you as he moves his tongue in slow broad strokes over your clit. Flames of heat lick at your extremities, beginning in your fingertips and toes and spreading upward. Rising warmth builds in your belly as you ride his face, hips undulating in time with the bobbing of his head. Fear floods you as the memory of the searing pain returns from those moments you’ve gotten this close in the past. You tense up, gripping his shoulders tightly, afraid to let yourself tip over.

“It’s okay,” Jimin whispers, pausing for a second to admire you from between your thighs. “It’s okay to let go.” His warm wet tongue slides over your aching clit as his fingers penetrate you. A massive tremor rolls through you as all the pent of tension releases at once and you’re coming. Every muscle in your body seizes over and over as you grind against his face.

Rhythmic muscle contractions seize you as a rush of fluid shoots out of you, spraying Jimin right in the face. You’re screaming, but not from pain. There is no pain, only release, only relief.

“Woah.” Jimin gapes at you, your release dripping down his face and off his chin. Then he breaks into a huge smile. “That was amazing.”

You laugh out loud, relief washing over you. Your whole body turns to jello and you collapse into his lap.

“Thank goodness we were already in the shower,” he says, wiping his face with his hand and chuckling.

The two of you sit, holding on to each other under the stream of water, laughing. Finally, the mental fog begins to lift from your thoughts.

“How did you get here?” you ask, yawning as you do so.

“On a plane.” He laughs, nuzzling against your neck, arms wrapped around you.

You hit playfully on his chest, still covered in his soaking wet dress shirt. “You know what I mean, what about the tour?” You yawn again.

He mirrors your yawn, stretching his arms and groaning. “I have to go back in the morning. They managed to get me out of the press junkets for today by claiming I was sick, but I have to be back for the concert.”

“Do they know?” Your eyes are already closing as you lean against his warm firm torso.

“About the curse?” Jimin asks. “No…” he laughs. “No, I don’t think they’d let me leave if I told them it was because my girlfriend really needed to ride my face. I told them I had a family emergency.”

“I’m sorry, Jimin.”

He shakes his head. “I’m the one who should be sorry.” He turns your face toward him and kisses you. “It’s my fault. I never should have left you.”

You sigh, head resting on his shoulder. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He squeezes your hand where it is entwined with his in your lap. “But we’ll figure something out.” He sighs, leaning back against the wall, finger stroking your arm. “But right now we should get some sleep.”

He turns off the shower, stripping off his wet clothes and leaving them behind before scooping you up. Your head is floaty as he wraps you in a warm towel. You lean against the counter as he strips the sheets from the bed and replaces them with fresh ones, then comes back to lead you back to the bed. The two of you collapse into bed together and sleep overtakes you almost instantly.

______

Your dreams are full of Jimin again. Not teasing demon Jimin, but your warm loving boyfriend, stroking your hair and holding your hand.

You are surprised to wake up and find him watching you.

“I have a solution!” He chirps excitedly.

“You do?”

“Yes! Apparently the curse is in my saliva. So here!” He thrusts the bottle of lube from your nightstand into your hands. You look at it in confusion. “I spit in it!” he proudly declares.

“Um…” You hold the bottle at arm’s length. “Thank you?”

“This way, if I’ve been gone too long, you have a way to get off without me.”

“How do you know it will work?”

He laughs sheepishly. “I, uh, called my mom.”

“Ugh, no…” You hide your head under the covers in embarrassment. “What did you tell her?”

“It was an awkward conversation.” He laughs again. “But I couldn’t let you go through that again. She swears this will work.” He glances down at his watch. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time to test it out with you.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Think you can get it done before I get on my plane?”

“I suppose there’s one way to find out…”

Jimin disappears under the bed and returns with both your vibrator and dildo. “Better get going then,” he teases, before giving you one last kiss. “I’ll text you when I land. I love you.”

You stare at the assortment of sex toys and lube now spread out on your bed. “You’re just going to leave? I don’t have to go with you?”

“Do you want to go with me? I thought you had work.”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I do, but… I thought you were going to make me your personal sex slave.”

“Um, I wasn’t planning on it.” He laughs, then a more mischievous smirk spreads over his face. “Unless you want me to.”

You laugh in relief even as a lick of heat curls in your belly. “Perhaps that’s a game best left for when you are in town.”

He winks. “Looking forward to it.”

[wornoutmouse]

May I request Ogun with a Black shy female reader doing a training session that leads to a little bit more 🙈

Anon please

You’re a second-generation pyrokinetic (Like Joker and Maki). Idk why but I made up in my head that you have flint-bottomed tap-dancing shoes that briefly light when you scrape your feet against the floor…..so that’s where you get your fire from 🤣🤣🤣

This one is a bit longer than normal cause i gotta build the tension

I am terrible at action scenes bruh

Chug- lift heels, slide forward, and then drop the heels at the end of the slide forwards

“Hey, Y/n!” You look up from the bland mashed potatoes and corn Company 5 had prepared. It was a hot Sunday morning and your partner in crime was as excited as ever. He stood a few feet away at the back entrance in the cafeteria. Cocking a thumb behind him, he dawns a toothy grin. “Want to play a quick game?” The game Ogun hinted at was one you were quite familiar with and one you should have known he would ask you to participate in today. “Fine, but don’t cry when I win.” You scoop another spoonful of corn before tossing your tray away for recycling. You’d need all your strength cause Ogun never lost without asking for back-to-back redos.

.You didn’t quite understand the need to be sweaty all the time, but always gave in to his whims

Ogun preferred to train in the field where the sun shined the most throughout the day at the far left of the Company. Often as you went on throughout your day-to-day training, you’d spot Ogun doing laps and practicing his attacks throughout the day.

“I’m feeling fired up today Y/n, you might want to be worried.” You close your eyes as you stretched an arm over your chest. You had yet to lose but you knew Ogun only saw that as a personal goal to get past. “Let’s get this over with, I’m tired.” The smell of smoke enters your nostrils giving you enough time to dodge Oguns boosted attack. “I told you about letting yourself known Mr. Montgomery.” You open your eyes, Oguns skin was lit ablaze with his pyrokinetic abilities.

From afar you’ve always admired the swirls that decorated his skin whenever you got amped up, and this time was no different. “I see you’re already using “Flaming Ink” what, you already scared?” Ogun widened his stance, glowing white eyes watching you shift your feet. “I’ve been working on a new move that I want to show you so why don’t you try your little fire trick.”

Curious, you scuff your shoe on the floor and draw your fire...only the fire doesn’t come. You do it again and the light goes out just as quick as it came. “What did you do?” You narrowed your eyes at Ogun. “Oh nothing, I’m just faster than you now.” You take a few steps back, “Oh that’s how you want to play it? Okay!” You take off running at the very edge of the field and Ogun is fast behind you. Internally you admit that he had gotten much faster, but a simple fact as that wasn’t going to make you lose.

Doing your best to maintain speed, you chug and draw the flames close to your chest out of Montgomery’s line of sight. It was small, mostly snuffed by the kick of your legs as you ran but it was big enough to get the job done. Similar to Ogun in his natural state, you too could throw projectiles just not as damage-inducing.

Turning around as you run, your eyes widen when Ogun appears just inches in front of you, “Surprise!” Your flame is snuffed and you tumble bringing Montgomery down with you. You prepare to feel your body be crushed by his muscled one but at the last minute your shoulders are grabbed and you flip again. The change in elevation causes you to lose a bit of focus, but you can still clearly feel Ogun cushion your fall.

“Oh wow, this looks like something out of an anime.” Ogun laughs when he finds himself lying flat on his back, you positioned comfortably on top of him. The position was completely ridiculous with your thighs straddling his stomach but you were thankful that you wouldn’t be in any sort of pain later.

“Looks like I’ll need to train harder huh?” You playfully punch Ogun’s shoulder. Even though the whole ordeal only lasted 6 minutes, you could feel your back drenched with sweat. While you couldn’t wait to get in the shower, Ogun seemed content with being in a salty state. “You’re dripping all over me you know?” Your head immediately snapped down to look at Ogun with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”

Ogun had a neutral look on his face not hinting at any humor behind his words. “You’re sweating really bad. Did little ole me get you all worked up?” He had to be teasing you at this point, but you couldn’t find a single crack in his facade. “Yeah well, maybe if you didn’t choose this big ass field with no trees I wouldn’t be 2 seconds from passing out.” You stand up, a bit wobbly, and help him up. “I’m going to go shower, you can stay out here if you want to.”

Ogun happily joins you on the way to the showers. You could hear his excitement from finally beating you. “Don’t get cocky, it was a one-time occurrence Ogun.” An arm is slung over your shoulder. In a smug tone, Ogun mocks you, “Don’t be mad cause you lost. You’ve had enough time to be cocky on your own terms.” You gasp mockingly before turning your head to spit back a remark but lose your breath from how close his face is to yours. At such close proximity, you become aware of small details. How his skin shinned in the sunlight, how Oguns eyes contained such a very specific hue of orange that they mimicked the fire of Sol almost precisely. You even wouldn’t be surprised if they would burn to the touch.

“What’s the matter, got nothing to say?” Out of instinct, you shove his head away with so much force he goes flying before landing on his ass. Before any questions are asked you deflect, “Gross I got your B.O all on my shoulders.” From behind Ogun scoffs, “How dare you, any other fine lady would be blessed to be near my manly musk.” Stifling a laugh you utter one final tease before slipping into the girl’s shower, “Yeah, manly must.”

It was endless labor as your captain followed you around, blowing that damn whistle. Given laundry duty, you had to take multiple shifts back and forth throughout each level of the building to collect everyone’s clothing. When you came across Ogun’s level your job was hindered as you were forced to wait as he sifts through his piles of dirty laundry, “Trush me Y/n, there’s a shirt that I accidentally put in here but it’s actually clean.” “Ogun if it’s in the dirty clothes then it’s dirty.” You try to haul his stuff out but he stops you. “I swear if you don’t move I’ll burn your stuff.”

Ogun chuckles, “You burn my clothes and it’ll catch your clothing as well.” Ogun reaches inside the pile you held pulling out a blank white T-shirt that looked annoyingly similar to the 12 other T-shirts you had watched him toss to the side. “Unless of course, you’re trying to go streaking which by all means I encourage you to.” You ignore his joke and pretend it doesn’t strike a certain feeling in your gut.

For your next task, you had to prepare different levels of activities for a group of 5th graders coming to the company the next day. Of course, Ogun would be assigned to the same task as well so while you worked diligently to bring equipment from the storage room, Ogun spent his time using each of the items incorrectly. “Please stop bouncing the footballs with the tennis racket before you get hurt.” Ogun ignored you as he dribbled with the racket. “Don’t be mad cause you’re not as creative as me.”

Well, as you predicted Ogun ends up getting punted in the face when he tries to toss the football in the hoop. Even though the sound it made on impact was loud and hollow, Ogun barely flinches when it ricochets. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with getting hit in the face with balls, you barely moved.” Ogun glared as he watched you pick up the football. Absentmindedly you spin the football as you speak, “You know if I didn’t know any bet-” Your speech is gargled when your mouth becomes stuffed.

While you weren’t watching Ogun through a basketball at your hand making you push the end of the football in your mouth. “Wow you seem pretty experienced with balls in your mouth, you gotta show me some time.” You cradle your mouth, it throbbed with dull pain and resentment filled your mind. “I’m sure it’ll be easy, there aren’t going to be too many inches stopping me.”

At this point, both your nerves are on high alert, and the energy in the air shifts from playful to angry. “Oh yeah?” Ogun walks slowly and calmly towards you, raising a brow when you stumble back yet still maintain your glare. The hand cradling your jaw is held tightly in his grasp, “Would you like to try?” The dare only eggs you on, “You won’t last a second.” The faint twitch of his temple lets you know you hit a nerve.

*Wheeeeze*

Both you and Ogun’s heads snap to the left. Pan stood at the gym doorway arms waving and whistle blowing, a clear attempt at reprimanding your laziness. The playful aura comes back and you and Ogun are subjected to extra work for your negligence. “This is your fault you know.” he shoots back, “I don’t want to hear it Montgomery.”

Ogun walked down the hallway in search of a new victim to torture, so it was only pure convenience when he stumbled near your living quarters and caught you just before you walked inside. “Y/n! You were absent for dinner.” You take one look at him before dashing into your room. All you wanted was to sleep, training with Ogun, and then having to complete your own set of chores plus extra was tiering. So seeing Ogun wandering out and about during the late hours only met trouble.

You jolt from your train of thought as your door is banged on. “Go away Montgomery, I’m trying to sleep.” Ogun whined, “Well you weren’t trying too hard cause you weren’t in your room yet, now let me in.” You kicked the door back, “No, now go away!”

No sound is heard, not even a shuffle. Sighing you walk towards your bed with a content smile, you’d apologize to him later but now it was your time for rest. Heavy wind billowed through your opened window making you shiver as the curtains tickle your skin. The sharp coolness made your teeth rattle but it was just the right amount of cool you needed in order to head off quickly to dream land. Turning the dial of your lamp, your room is shrouded in darkness and you climb underneath the covers. Nothing could stop the relaxation you were about to receive…….nothing but the feeling of “something ain’t right.”

Opening your eyes and expecting the worse, you are then greeted with the worst as the same fiery eyes you admired hours before, hovered above your face. “You should really close your window.” You scream and throw a punch in Oguns direction but it is in vain as he catches it and pins it down. “I should really get you back for doing that earlier.” Ogun doesn’t make any move to let you go or even speak again. “How the hell did you get there so fast?” You are unable to look away from his eyes, nothing else would have mattered anyway.

More wind blows through your curtains. “I told you I’ve gotten faster.” You can feel his breath caressing your cheek the closer he gets to your face. The hand wrapped around your wrist tightens despite your body being slackened. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah”

No one knows who moved first. All you know is that your pajamas were being ripped off of your body as Ogun aggressively devoured your lips. Tossing everything to the ground, Ogun sits above you, with his shirt was off, you are given the liberty to admire his chiseled body. Ogun makes quick work with fingering you open, watching with a toothy grin as your chest shakes and your breath stutters. “Not talking much now are you?” He doesn’t care if you respond, all he cares about is wearing you down. You pull him closer, nails dragging down his back, as your orgasm overwhelms you. “Ogun!” Your legs are hiked up and over his shoulders as he positions below you.

“Good job, I don’t want to hear anything else but my name.” The stretch was burning and filled you tightly. “How many inches you think that is?” You weakly slap Ogun’s arm as he weakly ruts into you before pulling out completely, “S-Stop making fun of me.” “ Aww, but it’s fun!” Ogun is slow and precise as he mashes his hips forward. There is no hesitation and the pace stays at a fluid toe-curling pressure. “You’re so silent now Y/n. Tell me, how does it feel, huh?” Your back raises from off the bed, “It...good-I oh god!”

The simple fact that you couldn’t speak sent tremors to Oguns cock. He wanted to tease you more, make you break. Your pussy was wet and sopping for him and not even Sol could make him stop fucking you, not when you looked so beautiful underneath him. But a mischievous streak doesn’t go away that easy.

Leaning back on his haunches, you are put back on top of Ogun, the same position you were in when on the feild. He doesn’t move and just looks at you, “What are, what are you doing?” You try to bounce but he holds you down making you pulse around him. “Please let me move.” But he doesn’t, the only movement you get is when you’re held down harder on his cock. “How many inches Y/n?” You shrug, “I don’t freaking know like 5 or something!?” You just wanted to cum not answer a random questionnaire.

Ogun uses his strength to lift you up and slam you back down. “Wrong, try again.” It takes a moment for you to catch the breath that got knocked out at the second stroke. “Do you really want me to stroke your stupid ego, fine 8inches!” You are slammed down again and this time it hits a special spot just short of your G. “Wrong again, don’t be a smart ass Y/n” He rubbed your side. “Come on, play my game for a little bit, don’t you want to cum on my dick?” Oguns hands squeeze your breasts, thumbs rotating the dark circles of your areolas leaving your nipples to tingle in need.

“Si-Six damn it! It has to be like 6.” your answer is mumbled but is loud enough to satisfy Ogun. As if you weighed nothing less than a piece of paper, Ogun uses his thighs to bounce you on his cock. Your chest bounces in his face taking his immature mind to cloud nine. He could feel the tell tell sign of his own orgasms cumming, as your ass slammed down on his shaft. “Stop squeezing down so damn hard!”

Being the person you are, you don’t listen even after you feel Ogun spill inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You rearrange your own legs and start bouncing at your own pace. The tight grip on your waist means nothing as you chase your second cumming. “Hurry up you little shit my balls are burning!” Ogun tossed his head back as his mouth releases cracked moans. His cock continued to twitch as it became softer but still stimulated. Soon, Ogun couldn’t take the stimuli anymore and pushes you down on the bed. The feeling of his fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy was a little less satisfying than his cock but you cream around it just as easily.

You lay down giggling while Ogun goes in and out of sleep. “I was right, you didn’t last a second.” “Shut the hell up, you’re like a vice.” Your sweaty state somehow doesn’t bother you as you rest in the afterglow. Your blinds continue to shimmer as the wind continues to blow. “Five and a half.” The numbers mean nothing to your muddled brain, “What?” Ogun looks at you, “5 and a half inches is the correct answer but I appreciate the 6.”

Suddenly the glow was no longer worth it.

[writemekpop]

Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?  

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal​

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.  

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 24

Request: Yes or No

Anddd we're back but this is hella short. Don't ask how y/n is able to get to so many places so quickly.

~

You glanced at the passenger seat, hearing your phone vibrating. The phone was connected to the car so you answered by pressing on a button on the steering wheel.

"Hello?"

"(Y/N)?"

"Wanda?" You breathed out, eyes widening. You pulled over to the side of the road, listening to her dry chuckle.

"I'm sorry I never got back to you.. I was.. I did something I shouldn't have. Do you have time?" Wanda asked. You could hear the exhaustion and guilt in her voice as she spoke. You sighed softly, relieved to know she was okay.

"Yeah, I have time. Send me the directions and I'll get there as soon as possible." You answered. Wanda hummed softly, hanging up.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y-"

"Already setting course."

"Thank you." You watched the steering wheel turn on its own, the car driving back onto the road. You picked up your phone, texting Bucky. You bit your bottom lip, gaze drifting to the flower resting on the floor of the passenger seat side. You had ignored any thought of visiting Gaia, choosing to spend time with the loved ones who had missed out on 5 years of your life.

"I can't believe I missed out on all your birthdays! You're officially a man now!" Sam said, fingers wrapped around his beer bottle. You rolled your eyes at him, shaking your head.

"Yeah, lucky me. You two stayed the same age while I got older." You huffed softly, chuckles leaving the two men.

"You still look the same." Bucky pointed out, running a metal finger down your cheek with a small smile.

"I bet you're gonna age like Jennifer Aniston. By the time you're in your fifties, you'll still look like you're in your twenties." Sam grinned.

"That'd be great." You chuckled, raising the bottle to your lips. You licked your lips afterward, tapping your fingers against the bottle.

"But, uh.. I'm not gonna age.. for a long time." You revealed. Sam blinked, staring at you.

"Apparently, I might age like a tree." You laughed softly, head shaking.

"Like a tree?"

"Like a tree."

You hummed as the car pulled down a road, leading to an area by the mountains. You noticed a cabin ahead, licking your lips. The car came to a slow stop, turning off. You got out, watching Wanda open the door. A smile spread across your face. Wanda returned the smile with a tired one of her own, walking towards you. She gently wrapped her arms around you.

"I messed up." Wanda said softly. You frowned, holding her as she buried her face in the crook of your neck. You pulled away, following her inside the cabin. She sat down on the couch, licking her lips.

"After we went to get Visions body.. I went to a town named Westview." Wanda began. You sat beside her, listening as she explained what she had done.

"I left and came here.. I feel horrible. I.. I let my pain take over and I ended up making innocent people suffer." Wanda frowned.

"Are the people-"

"Monica and the others will help them. I just.. I need to stay away and figure out my powers. I need to know what else I can do." Wanda rubbed her arms, gaze distant. You reached over, giving her knee a gentle squeeze.

"What have you been up to?" Wanda asked, smiling gently as she tilted her head, desperate for a change of topic.

"Bucky and I moved in together not long ago." You revealed. Wandas' brows rose as she licked her lips.

"Really? I'm happy for you, (Y/N). How's Bucky doing?"

"He's.. he's trying to get better. I'll support him every step of the way." You shrugged lightly, giving her a small smile.

"I also visited Gaia."

"How'd that go?"

You stared down at the fairy ring, a gentle breeze blowing by. Your hands were sweaty, nerves bubbling in your stomach. You were unsure on how Gaia would react to you visiting her. You swallowed, taking a step forward and entering the circle. You shut your eyes, the smell of wet rain disappearing and being replaced by the smell of roses. You opened your eyes, looking over the rose bushes. You were in a garden. The sky was cloudless and a forest surrounded the garden. You heard soft humming in the distance, following it to the center of the garden where a woman sat on a small white patio area.

“Take a seat.” The woman called, snipping the thorns off a red rose. You took slow steps towards the table, sitting down across from her. 

“What is this place?” You asked, head turning as you scanned your surroundings. 

“Some call this the Garden of Eden.” She answered, placing the rose down on the table. She finally looked at you, hazel eyes looking you over. You licked your lips letting out a soft sigh as your fingers played with the hem of your shirt. 

“Are you Gaia?” You asked softly. She nodded, smoothing out her dress as she stood up. 

“I haven’t seen you in years, (Y/N). How have you been?” Gaia asked, picking up the rose and walking to an empty patch of dirt. You scoffed, watching her drop the rose. The rose slowly grew into a rose bush. 

“I’ve been terrible, thanks for asking.” You replied, watching her turn towards you with slightly raised brows.

“You left me in an abusive orphanage with no family to contact. I’ve been through hell and back, Gaia. I lost my family, my best friends, my- my boyfriend.. Another father figure died. I don’t even know everything about myself!”

“But you have a family. You got them back and you’re part of that superhero team, aren’t you?” 

“Are you serious? They missed out on five years. I thought they were dead and gone forever! You’ve been missing from my life since the day I was born. Why create something that needs caring and then dump it aside?” Your jaw clenched as you stood up, staring at her. 

“I knew you wouldn’t be alone forever-”

“That doesn’t help the fact that I was abused, depressed, and suicidal for years!” You shouted at her, feeling a gust of wind abrupt from around you. The rose bushes surrounding the patio withered, petals falling.

“I would’ve rather been left with Tony Stark back in his old man fuckboy days.” You glared at her, fists clenching. Gaia let out a deep sigh, raising her hand and watching the color return to the roses. She ran her fingers through her hair, twirling a strand around.

“Why did you come here, (Y/N)?"

"To get answers but it seems like I won't get them."

"I didn't have high expectations but it was still pretty.. disappointing." You leaned back, rubbing your arms. Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder.

"You don't need her. You have the Bartons, Sam, Bucky.. me. The people who love you will always be with you." Wanda gave a smile. You nodded, letting out a soft sigh.

"Despite everything, I'm happy and that's all that matters. Whether she's in my life or not, I survived without her and I'll continue to do so."

[osamiiya]

Pairing(s): Tendou Satori x Reader

Warnings: None

Type of fic: Angst to fluff

Summary: You find out you're pregnant, but that's not the reaction from Tendou you expected

A/n: I'm absolutely terrible at writing angst, but I thought I'd try :)

Two lines and you grin.

'Satori's going to love this.' You think, placing a hand on your stomach.

You were elated, it felt like you were floating. The two of you had never discussed having children explicitly, but Tendou always mentioned how great of a mother you would be when seeing you interact with kids.

You walk around the house with the test in your hand, excitement coursing through your body, anticipation making the minutes tick by slower than usual.

The lock finally clicks, and you hear a "Darling~" ring throughout the house.

You speed into view, almost tripping with a wide grin on your face.

Tendou's smiling fondly at you, you were a breath of fresh air from the toxic world outside.

"I have something to tell you." You start, bouncing on your toes.

Tendou takes off his shoes and pulls you into an embrace, taking a deep breath and relaxing.

"What is it?" He asks, and you can feel the vibrations in his chest as he rubs your back.

"I'm pregnant." Tendou stops moving, his body rigged.

"What." He whispers, and it's full of pain.

Your heart stops. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. No, you were supposed to laugh together and be happy they you were finally making your family a little bigger.

"I'm pregnant?" It comes out as a question as you lean back to observe Tendou's face.

He's paler than usual and his jaw is set. His hands drop from around you and come up to brush his hair back.

"I need a drink." His voice is weak and sounds forced as he gently pushes by you going into the house.

You're frozen in shock. Your hands are shaking as the gravity of the situation sets in.

'He dosent want a baby.' It repeats like a broken track in your head. You turn around, hands clutching your stomach.

'He won't want me anymore. I have to raise them by myself'

You walk to where Tendou is, body light and husk like.

Tendou's in no better shape, his eyes are wide and his hands are shaking as he lifts the glass in front of him.

"I'm going for a bath." You call out, it's monotone.

You're numb as you sink into the warm water, your body dosent feel like your own.

Tears are dripping into the bathwater, the whole house silent except for the sound of water dripping.

You're numb the whole time, as you rinse the suds off your body, as you dry yourself off with a towel and get dressed.

Lying in bed you try to fall asleep, this was all a bad dream. The bed sinks on one side and you can slightly smell the liquor on Tendou's breath as he examines your face.

"I'm so scared y/n." Your body tenses but Tendou dosent notice.

"I want to have this baby with you, I want to see your beautiful features on this baby."

He lets out a shaky breath. "But I'm Ugly y/n. I'm a monster that you learned to love. If-" His voice catches.

"If our child looked like me I wouldn't know what to do. I'd love them so much. But other people wouldn't y/n." You can hear him clear his throat and take your hand.

"I don't want my kid to be a monster too." Your heart dropped.

"I don't want my kid to be called a monster by their peers, it would destroy me. I don't want them to go through the same thing I did."

"I'm a monster. I look like one and I act like one." You can almost see his face, cheeks red from the alcohol and tears, hands shaking as they run over his face.

"God, I'm so happy you're pregnant. I'm so so happy. But I made you cry. We're happy and I fuck it up because of these stupid insecurities."

He lets out a laugh "If you were awake you'd slap my arm and tell me I'm being ridiculous, and that you love me no matter how I look, and that you'll love this kid even if they look like me."

"I'm just scared y/n. What if my kid thinks I'm a monster. My heart would break beyond repair, I think." the hand gripping yours loosens a little, and he moves to where your stomach is, his hand softly caressing your stomach.

"And you, I bet you're going to be as beautiful as your mama. Y'know you lucked out, having a mother this kind. You'll be kind too. I know you will, and I'll love you until the end of time, when the galaxy explodes." You can feel your shirt get a little wet from tears.

"I love you so much already it can't be healthy." He lets out a watery chuckle and comes back you to your face.

"I love you, my paradise." He kisses your cheek and you shift, halting his movements.

"Don't tell me you were awake." He's suddenly sober as he watches a smile grow on your face.

"I would love it if my child had your features, my god have you seen your baby photos? You were the cutest kid I've ever seen." You open one eyes to see tears streaming down his face, a smile on his lips.

"c'mere." You open your arms and Tendou lies down on your chest, listening to you and your heartbeat as you play with his hair.

"You're going to be a great dad y'know? I'd be the luckiest ever if our kid was like you." Tendou's hands snake down to your stomach.

"Oh, I'm nothing special."

"You're special to me!" You exclaim, slightly hurt.

He laughs softly, stroking your stomach.

9 Months later you had your baby girl, her hair a brilliant red.

Tendou was crying, "She has your eyes." he cried, showing her to Ushijima.

"Look Wakatoshi, she has my hair and my nose."

The nurses all thought he was cute, he never stopped smiling and pushing the sweaty hair out of your face just to kiss you.

"Let's have another!" He exclaims, kissing your baby girl's head.

"Satori, she was born an hour ago." You sigh, he wasn't the one who had to carry and birth her.

"Please y/n?" He looks at you pouting.

"No, you don't understand she was literally born an hour ago." You look to Ushijima, your little girl's godfather, for some help.

"Tendou, a woman can not physically conceive a child an hour after she births her previous one. You must wait at least 3 weeks before y/n can get pregnant again." You scrunch your nose at his monotone explanation.

He catches eye of your facial expression and clears his throat.

"Oh course it is y/ns body and she gets to decide when she would like to get pregnant again."

You roll your eyes slightly and look around the room and then to the little baby in your arms. Somehow, your little family looked a little more complete than it had been before.

[buttsmasher]

Break In

[Here’s the photo that inspired this]

Warnings/Tags: Face Farting, Fart Torture, Unwilling Victim, Gay Farting, Death by Farting, Forced Orgasm

You scream and run but there’s no one here who can save you. You can’t even make it out of your bedroom before he grabs you and slams you to the ground. You struggle, kick and punch, but it’s no use. He’s got a hold of you and there’s no escaping now.  

You’re so panicked that you don’t even realize that he’s choking you out until you’re out of breath. Everything gets dark and you’re quickly losing consciousness. Before you do though, you manage to get out two words that have absolutely no consequence in the moment. “Fuck. You.” Your head falls against the carpeted floor, knocked out by the intruder.

You awake again, surprised by the fact you are indeed still alive. You’re still in your bedroom and nothing seems out of place. The only real thing that’s different is that your feet are tied together and your hands are tied together to the bottom of your bed frame. You pull at your hands hoping the friction from the bed frame will break the rope. Unfortunately you don’t get very far when the intruder arrives back in your room.

He’s standing there with a ski mask covering his face and a tight pair of red briefs covering his genitals. You both stare at each for a moment until you finally break the silence. “Look man, I’ve got money in the safe! Let me go and you can have it, I won’t call the police or nothing.” He doesn’t respond, instead he walks closer to you until his tall frame is standing above you. “Please don’t hurt me man. I swear I didn’t do nothing.”  

“Tell Romano’s daughter that.” You stare in horror realizing that the old sleazebag must have put a hit out on you.  

“Whatever he paid you, I’ll double it.” He doesn’t respond, just turns around so you are staring up at his brief clad ass. “Look-look-look. I don’t know what the old man said I did but I swear I didn’t do it. You don’t have to do this man.” You plead as you watch the man gyrate his hips and stretch giving you quite the show. “I’ll give you 50 G’s.”  

“It ain’t about the money.” He bends to touch his toes, his ass absolutely filling the briefs. “It’s about respect.”  

“I-” You don’t get to finish the statement as he slams his ass down against your face. The impact of him sitting on you makes you bash your head against the ground. You momentarily see stars, but then everything comes back and you quickly realize that he’s smothering you in his sizable ass. “Stop!” You try yelling out but your voice is muffled, and you even have a hard time understanding what you were saying.  

Then the smell hits you. You don’t know why it took so long but it’s like a punch in the face. You question if this guy even knows what a shower is. The smell is so musky it makes you cough and the only thing you can equate the smell to is week old underwear.  

PFFFFFBRFFFFFFFFFTTTT

Unexpectedly, he rips a terrible fart up your nose, burning your nose hairs and throat as you are forced to inhale it. The already disgusting ass mixed with the smell of rotten eggs sets you over the edge and you start thrashing about to get away. Unfortunately for you, his position has you pinned perfectly aligned with your nose right against his unwashed hole.  

He gyrates his hips forcing your head against the carpet and releases a silent but just as toxic fart right up your nose again. You try to catch your breath but it feels impossible as all you can smell is his rotten ass.

PFFFFFFBBBRRBRRRRBRBR

You thank whatever god out there that he’s still wearing the briefs as that was the wettest fart you’ve ever heard. It doesn’t save you from the smell though. More rotten eggs and sulfur smelling farts get released up your nose. You cough and gag and beg for some form of mercy. And to your surprise he stands up and you are able to take in a deep breath of fresh air. However, you notice that he’s pulling off his briefs and that’s when you really start screaming for help.

“Someone please help me! He’s going to kill me! I’m going to die!” You scream, but you know better than anyone, no one’s going to hear you. Afterall that’s why you designed this room.

“Romano told me you like to beat girls.” He pulls his ass cheeks apart making sure you get a good look at his hairy ass crack and dirty looking butthole.  

“No-no that’s not-”  

“You chose the wrong girl this time.” He interrupts. “You know why he called me in?” You shake your head no sheepishly. “It’s because when they mark how you died on your death certificate, it’s going to show that you’ve inhaled too much methane gas.” He bends back down and you go to turn your face away only for him to grab your head. He moves you back into position and firmly sits back down right onto your nose where you’re once again forced to smell his unwashed ass.

You try to hold your breath, but with the way he’s rocking his hips back and forth, it’s too hard.  

PFFFFFFFFFTTT PFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“You know how I got ready for today?” Your eyes are burning and you can feel tears freely flowing down your enclosed face. “I ate 6 hard boiled eggs. Then two bags of broccoli.”  

PFBBRRFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT

“Nooooo!” You scream out as you’re continually assaulted.

“Then after that, ate a whole can of black beans.” He stops moving his hips and holds completely still.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTT

“I can’t-” You cough struggling to even put up much of a fight against your restraints. “Puh-please.”  

“Then I did some squats to make sure my ass was nice and sweaty for you.” He makes a point by pushing his ass up and down on your face making sure his scent was all over you. “It’s a shame the boss wants you dead. I woulda loved to see how you react when you realized you’re never getting this scent off of you.”  

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT PFFFFFFFFFF

More airy farts are expelled from his ass showing no signs of him running out of gas. “I mean, you may have been able to physically been able to get the scent off of you, but, hold on-”

PFBRBRBFFF PBBBFFF

“Oh buddy, you should check your face because that was wet.” He laughs as you start to get dizzy and dizzier. “Anytime you woulda tried to hit a girl again, all you’d ever be able to think about is how my ass ruined you.”  

FFFFF PSSSSSSS FFFFFF

Hisses of air get blown out of him. “Oh, I know how I can make this worse.” In a true turn of events, you feel his hand snake into your undies. His hand grips tight onto your cock and you feel him start to play with you.  

“Mmmfh Mmm!” You’re not even able to get real words out. That’s how fucked your brain is as he starts to get your flaccid cock awake.  

“Yeah, you like it when I get you nice and boned up with my ass in your face.” He teases as he waggles on your face. “There you go, get nice and hard.” You cry out as he has somehow managed to get your dick fully erect. His movements are steady and show that he knows what he’s doing.

PFFFFFFBBRFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTT

His skillful hand has you gasping for air and you’re forced to completely breathe in the latest butt bomb. “Bet that tasted great.” He goads, pushing you to once again try to get away. You do briefly get a second where you can turn your head, but he quickly gets you back in place using just his ass.  

PFFFFFFFFF PFFFFFFFFF

You’re forced to take another deep breath as his hands masterfully work you over. It’s been barely a minute and you already feel like you’re close to exploding. “Breathe this next one in.” Your mind is so hazy that you go along with what he says.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

As soon as the fart leaves his ass, you’re inhaling willingly your mind so broken that you’re not even registering how rank his scent is. All you think of is how good it feels with his hand around your cock. You don’t even realize that it’s becoming harder and harder to stay awake. Everything around you is becoming less and less real, and then everything goes white as you start shooting your load all over yourself and the intruder’s hand. “There you go, let it all out.” He says, almost soothingly.

PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFBBRBRFFFFFFFFFTTTTT

He times the fart perfectly so it gets shot up your nose as you cum your brains out. And that’s the moment when you finally realize that you're suffocating and that you’re not going to make it out of this. This is how they’re going to find you. Your cum crusted all over your stomach. Your face stinking so bad they’ll probably have to wear hazmat suits.

The intruder shoots one more silent fart up your nose and that does it. Everything goes black, your head falls back against the floor lifeless. A husk of a man that you used to be. Destroyed by the ass of a superior man.

[nagito-kissmaeda]

Horny on Main Disease - Komaeda x Reader

Summary: Reader catches a strain of the despair disease that means she says everything she is thinking. Kind of awkward considering all she can think about is how much she wants to jump Komaeda's bones. This is intended to be sort of funny, but i still wrote it pretty seriously, just want to make it clear that i did not half ass the smut. i whole assed it.

Word count: 4444  Contains: fem reader, they/them pronouns, despair disease, explict sexual content, unsafe sex, voyeurism Read on AO3 ミ☆ Please send me a DM or an ask if you’d like me to write something for you!

It’s not even a particularly hot day, and yet you’re sweating bullets as you walk over to the dining hall like you do every morning. Your legs are wobbly and your head is aching something terrible, you assume that you’ve caught a cold or something , whatever the problem is, it’s going to be a question for Tsumiki when you meet up with her at breakfast.

Kuzuryu is standing out by the pool, pensively staring into the still water. He probably misses Pekoyama, but you’re smart enough to know not to-

“Hey, Kuzuryu! I bet you miss your dead girlfriend, huh?”

He just stares at you, and it takes a good few seconds for you to even realise what you just said out loud. You clap a hand over your mouth, horrified.

“I don’t know why I said that!” You squeak

Kuzuryu doesn’t look...angry? He shakes his head at you and sighs, “you’re acting weird today too, aren’t you?”

“What? Weird? Who’s weird?”

“Owari was here a few minutes ago, bawling her eyes out on the ground.” He crosses his arms and looks away from you, “I think the bear is planning something again.”

You nod sternly, “anyone with tits as big as Owari has nothing to cry about! Something is definitely suspicious.”

Oh god why did you say that??

“Oh god, why did I say that??”

You just keep saying everything you’re thinking!

“I just keep saying everything I’m-“

Kuzuryu grabs you by the wrist and starts tugging you towards the dining hall, “something is definitely fucked up.” He looks down at where his hand is gripping yours, “Jesus Christ, your skin is on fire!”

“Yeah, cause I’m hot !” That was already an embarrassing thing to say, you are horrified when your mouth drops open again to follow it up with, “bow-chicka-wow-wow!”

There is definitely something wrong with you. In general you are the sort of person who takes the time to carefully curate every word that leaves your mouth, the fact that you are just speaking without even thinking about it is bizarre and alarming. The ache in your head is also steadily growing stronger and you’re starting to feel dizzy, maybe you’re just delirious with flu? It doesn't make sense for you to catch the flu on an abandoned island, but weirder things have happened already.

It is at this moment that you realise you have been (only semi-coherently) mumbling your full internal tirade outloud to Kuzuryu, who is now helping you up the stairs to the dining hall. He has very diplomatically, been either ignoring, or at least pretending to ignore everything you have been saying.

“You’re nice. Probably the politest yakuza i’ve ever met.” you pause, “I’ve never met another yakuza, i'm not sure why i said it like that.”

Kuzuryu scoffs and tugs you up at the last step. Deigning to give your comment any sort of response.

As you step up onto the dining hall landing, you freeze. This is dangerous. Your nails are biting into the skin of your palms, and your already warm face feels even hotter. Don't look at him, don't think about him, don't look at him, don't think about him. Kuzuryu is giving you a look, you must be verbalising your own mental gymnastics, but that is less embarrassing than the alternative.

“Don't look at him, don't think about him, don't look at him, don't think-”

You look up, like an idiot . Komaeda is sitting by the window with his chin in his palm, just sort of staring off into the middle distance, not really looking at anything. The morning sun cascades through the window and catches in his hair. It shimmers. Your heart twists and turns in your chest, you have been trying to keep this little fascination of yours under wraps, but he slowly closes his eyes and takes a deep breath in through his nose and-

“He looks like an angel .” You say, and you say it loudly.

All eyes in the room turn to you. Hinata especially is looking at you with his particular brand of exhaustion, that says this is not the first weird thing he has heard today. You scramble, trying desperately to think about anything other than Komaeda, to stop yourself from saying anything stupid. In your desperation, what you say is: “Yes hello! I was talking about anyone in this room apart from Komaeda. Please do not be confused, it was not Komaeda. I want to make it crystal clear that i am NOT attracted to Nagito Komaeda. This is a very convincing lie and you all believe me!”

Mioda straightens her spine and salutes you, “Roger! You are not attracted to Komaeda, I believe you!”

Your sweating even more now, it’s getting hard to breathe, “Forget I said anything!”

Mioda salutes again, “Consider it forgotten!”

“What is happening?! ” Hinata exclaims, gesturing wildly to you, Mioda, and Owari who you suddenly notice is leaning against the far wall and sobbing, “This is not normal!”

Your eyes slip to Komaeda again. He is looking at you and he is blushing-

“He looks so...cute…” You whisper, and Hinata yelps.

“Why are you all being so weird???? ”

Monokuma takes that as his cue to finally show up. Waltzing on into the dining hall like he owns the place, clearly buzzing with excitement, “A good question!” He says, clamoring up onto a vacant chair and holding a paw in front of his face to hide his laughter, “ Oooh , this is my best motive yet! Looks like three members of the class have come down with a bad case of the despair disease!”

“D-Despair Disease?” Tsumiki contributes, nervously playing with her hands, “I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

“Yeah, well. It’s pretty self explanatory!” Monokuma says, “The main symptom is high fever, along with some other fun despair related effects! It’s a bit of a mixed bag though and no two cases are the same! For example, Moida is suffering from the Gullible Disease...Owari has the Cowards Disease.” Then, Monokuma points his stubby little paw in your direction, “And you have the No Filter Disease. You just say whatever you’re thinking! It’s been lots of fun so far, upupupupu~”

“Oh, does that mean all those things they were just saying about Komaeda were the truth?” Sonia says. Her brows draw together, and she taps her lips with a finger, “How interesting.”

“It’s not my fault he’s gorgeous!” the words escape you before you have a chance to stop them. You squeal and clap a hand over your mouth before you start talking again. Komaeda is now bright red to the tips of his ears.

“That was true? GROSS!” Saionji exclaims.

You glare at Monokuma, “If you wouldn't kill me for doing it, I'd rip out all your stuffing right now.”

Monokuma withers a little, “Aw~ Is that what you really feel? Here I was thinking we were great friends.”  

“I’ll gut you like a fish.” you pause, “a bear-fish.” another pause, “a fish-bear.” You groan, “UGH, I can’t stop saying stupid things! I’m all sweaty! This sucks !”

Tsumiki steps over to you, her hand is shaking as she brings it up to your forehead.

“Oh…” you breathe, “your hand is cold.”

“S-Sorry! I’m just checking your temperature.”

“You smell like lavender.”

She recoils a little, “It’s j-just my shampoo!!'' Then she shakes her head and turns to the rest of the group, “Monokuma is telling the truth. They’ve got a fever.”

Hinata hurriedly presses his hand against the foreheads of both Owari and Moida, confirming that they’re also burning up, “What do we do, Tsumiki?”

Before she can answer, Monokuma pipes up again, “did I forget to mention? It’s contagious~~”

Saionji squeals and backpedals all the way to the stairs, “Contagious!?”

“Yeah and I'm a conta- genius . Get it?”

Souda gives you an uncomfortable look and scratches the back of his neck, “How much space in your brain is taken up by bad puns?”

You’re feeling really dizzy now, “A lot of it! But usually I don't say any of them!” your knees wobble and you almost fall over, luckily Tsumiki is still close enough to grab you before you topple to the ground, “I am going to kill that goddamn bear .”

“Could-could someone help me?” Tsumiki squeaks, “If i keep holding them up like this we-we’re just both going to fall over.”

You giggle a little, slipping into a semi-delirium as you cling to Tsumiki for dear life. Hinata and the others start working on a plan to keep everyone safe until the illness runs its course, “Hey Tsumiki…” you whisper, “Komaeda’s got real nice hands, huh?” she is too busy trying to keep you upright to answer, “I want him to carry me. Unless I'm too heavy, Tsumiki, am I too heavy?”  

You’re all but draped over Tsumiki now, who is trying in vain to shuffle you over to a nearby wall, when you suddenly hear her sigh in relief, “Oh...Th-Thank you. I’m not very s-strong…”

You manage to flop your head around to face the other direction, lacking the strength to turn your neck properly. Komaeda is looking down at you, it might just be the fever, but you feel like you’re going to burst into flames.

“Aha, I’m sure i'm not much stronger than you, Tsumiki.” He says, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulders and tugging you over to him. You might have moaned, you can't be sure, “But I do have the height advantage.”

The utter tsunami that leaves your mouth is unavoidable. Literally medically unavoidable, but that doesn't stop it from being the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“He’s touching me. He’s touching me…” your head has come to rest on his chest and you are practically hyperventilating, “He smells like chamomile soap and clean laundry...His hands are cold, his shirt is soft...Oh god i'm so sweaty, he probably thinks i'm disgusting! Komaeda, i'm so sorry , this was meant to be a secret!!! I wasn't going to tell you, everyones gonna think I'm weird!” your thoughts are leaving your mouth faster than you can think of them, if Komaeda is reacting to anything you have to say, you don't notice because despite your mouth running a mile a minute you still have an ounce enough of shame and bury your face in his chest to hide from your own words.

The world is spinning, your head feels heavy, everything is so hot , “Your hair is nice, did you know your hair is nice? God, I've wanted to run my fingers through it since day one. This is so fucked up, you almost killed someone! I want to stop talking , i feel like i'm gonna pass out, i'm gonna pass out, i'm gonna pass out. Im gonna…”

***

“I think I passed out.” Is the first thing you say when you wake up. You’re still hot and the back of your neck is sweaty, but you can see that you are now in the hospital, and that you’re wearing a hospital gown.

“Who undressed me?!” You exclaim, disappointed to find that you still can’t help saying everything you think.

At the sound of your voice, the door to your room opens, and Komaeda steps in.

“No! Not you!”

He freezes, withering under your gaze, “Ah, I see. Being greeted by garbage like me in your current state, it must be insulting .”

You feel like an asshole .

“That’s not what I meant! Please don’t go, I never want you to go.”

Komaeda laughs a little, still lurking nervously in the doorway, “You’re confusing me.”

“I don’t want you to hear what I’m thinking. I want you to stay, but all I can think about is how much I want to suck on your collarbone.” You freeze the second you stop talking, a high pitched whine leaving your mouth as you hide your face in your hands, “I’m so sorry! I can’t stop it!”

Stepping further into the room, Komaeda quietly closes the door behind him. Your heart is pounding.

“I’m nervous.” You say.

He tilts his head, walking over to the side of your bed, “I can still leave if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“No, I’m not uncomfortable.” You shrink under his gaze, “it just, the way you closed the door it makes me feel like you’re planning something, like maybe we’re going to have-“ you manage to cover your mouth before the rest of the sentence escapes. Keeping your hands tight over your lips as all you can think about is his long fingers, his soft hair, his half lidded eyes.

“Are you...still talking behind your hands?”

You nod.

A smile crawls up the side of his face, “are you saying something embarrassing?”

“I wanna stick my tongue in your mouth.” You say, loud enough that even the tight grip of your hands doesn’t muffle it.

Komaeda remains remarkably calm, “You keep saying those things. This disease...means you say whatever you’re thinking, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It’s driving me crazy, I’m just being such an idiot and I’m probably freaking you out. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s not it.” He sighs, moving slowly as he sits down on the side of your bed, “Honestly, why would you let such thoughts about scum like me take up so much real estate in your mind?”

“I can’t help it!” You exclaim, “I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I just can’t! I want you so badly. I…..I-“ you hold your breath, you can’t let that last part out, no matter what, you can’t say that last part. You’ll die of suffocation before you let him hear it.

“You...what?” He asks

Oh god. You can’t stop thinking about it. Your lungs are aching, screaming for you to just open your mouth.

“What are you hiding, hm?”

It’s too much. The nerves, your sick and weakened body, him right there . You can’t do it, you can’t stop it, the next time you see Monokuma, you are drop kicking him into the sun.

“I’ve touched myself while thinking about you!”

The words echo off the walls of the room like a gunshot.

For a moment Komaeda just stares at you, but then, his shaky hands reach out and wrap around both of your wrists. His throat bobs.

“Hng. I want to suck on the side of your neck, I want to see you covered in marks from my teeth-“ you try to cover your mouth with your hands again. Komaeda grips your wrists tighter.

“No.” He whispers, trembling, “keep going.”

“ God, your hands are so big. I want to know how deep your fingers would reach inside of me. I bet you’re good at it, I bet you’re really good at it.” He just keeps staring at you, ghostly green eyes blown wide, chest heaving , “Are you turned on? Is this turning you on? Just pin me down and fuck me, do it, do it, do it!”

“How...how often are you thinking about me like this?”

“Oh, all the time.” You freeze, mentally (and therefore also verbally) berating yourself, “Not all the time! Just like, a normal amount. However much that is.” He is still just looking at you, the pad of his thumb slowly brushes across the pulsepoint in your wrist and you shiver, “Yes, yes! I’ve wanted this intimacy with you for so long . I couldn't tell anyone, I couldn't tell you. During the first trial, when you went on your weirdo rant about hope and despair. I was scared, i was so scared, but oh god- ” you can't stop yourself. Every thought in your head is pouring out of your lips. Filling up the room, the mortification is drowning you . All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut to avoid looking at him, “I was wet , Komaeda. I went back to my cabin and came three times to the thought of you, I am reprehensible . What do you think the others would do if they found out, huh? That all i can think about is you fucking me over my trial podium. They’ll tie me up next-”

The bed squeaks, and Komaeda brings his knee up and over your hips.

“-Oh my god. You’re doing it aren't you?”

His other leg comes up on the bed, and he settles, hovering up above you. He shrugs, “I honestly don't understand why this is something you want,” he leans down over you, resting his palms on either side of your head, “but who am I to deny the wishes of an ultimate.”

If not for the warmth of his lips pressed against yours, you are sure that you wouldn't be able to shut up, based only on the number of thoughts tumbling through your head like they’re on a spin cycle. You are still sweaty with fever and probably look disgusting, but Komaeda shuffles down in between your legs and hikes your hospital gown up to your waist. So you are suitably distracted.

He laughs as he hooks his fingers around your panties and tugs them down your thighs, “I cant believe that you want scum like me to touch you like this. Usually I would assume that you are lying, or taking pity on me.” He grins, running a finger up the length of your sex, “But everything you say to me is your exact thoughts, isnt it?”

“Yes! Touch me, please! ” You’re quivering beneath him, barely able to breathe in between your frantic pleas, “You feel so good, you feel perfect . I want your fingers inside me so bad .”

He hisses as he slips his middle and ring finger inside of you, eyes glued to where your entrance is swallowing him up, “Ahaaa...you’re drenched . You really do want me don't you?” he pistons his fingers in and out slowly, slowly and deliberately, “Someone like you, desiring me so terribly. It’s such a waste , but i can't help it. I must be selfish and take this chance while i can.”

“Not a….waste....” You force out, helplessly grinding on his fingers, “Want you....want only you…”

“Oh- Ohhhh .” He moans, “I can feel you, squeezing around my fingers. You’re so wet...so warm…”

You hear a zipper coming undone, and your thoughts go into overdrive, “oh my god, oh my god. Komaeda’s going to jerk off in front of me, wanna watch, wanna watch! ”

His fingers still inside you for a moment as he tugs his boxers down far enough to slip out his cock. Your eyes follow the movement of his long fingers as he slowly curls them around the base, and tugs them up again, rolling the pad of his thumb over the head. His hips buck, and you moan.

“You...you’re tightening around my fingers…” he breathes, choking on a moan as he pumps his cock again, “you like watching me touch myself?” Your hips stutter, grinding your clit against the meat of his palm as he continues stroking himself. His eyes are wide as he watches you writhing beneath him.

“The face you make when you do that...it’s so cute.” You say, whining as his fingers start moving inside you again, “it’s even cuter than I imagined. Your cheeks are all red.” You swallow, “and your cock is so pretty...I want you to cum inside me, so bad .”

His breath hitches, “you want me to cum, inside you?” his cock is leaking with pre-cum now, painfully hard in his hand. His chest is heaving.

“Yes yes yes! ” You plead, “I want you, please! ”

“I don’t understand.” He breathes, and you whimper as his fingers slip out of you, “How could someone be so desperate for my pathetic seed?”

“Fill me up , Komaeda!” You exclaim, at this point you are long past embarrassed. The words leaving your mouth are the absolute truth and there is no way you can deny them.

He groans at that, an octave deeper than you are used to hearing and it seems he is having trouble denying you. His own desperation mingling with yours and overtaking his painful self-doubt, he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, and slowly edges the swollen head against your entrance, “f-fuck…” he mutters as he slips inside you, “you’re so warm .”

You can barely even register what you are saying anymore, it’s little more than a string of compliments about how good he feels inside you. About how handsome he is. Your tongue feels weird and loose in your mouth from overuse, but you still can’t stop talking.

He looms above you, halo of white hair bouncing as he thrusts in and out of you, the unmistakable jangle of the chain hanging from his jeans. All things that confirm it is Komaeda inside of you. Your heart races with the fact.

“Th-thank you, for permitting me to do this with you.” He stammers, sweat slowly dripping down his brow, “it’s...so good...it feels like I belong inside you. ”

A moan rips through you, and you hook your weak ankles around his waist, “you do belong inside me. You fit so perfectly , I was made for your cock. GOD I sound so filthy…..I- I can’t help it.”

“ No.” He hisses, eyes meeting yours, “Keep talking.”

“You say that like I can stop.” You dip your head lower, and wrap your lips around his left collarbone, moaning as you suck hard enough to leave a bruise. He keens above you, hips snapping against yours even faster, “Your hip bones are digging into my thighs…”

He squeezes his eyes shut, “I-I’m sorry, do you want me to-“

“Don’t you dare stop, Komaeda. You’re mine , I want to feel every inch of you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You bring a shaky hand up to his cheek, he nuzzles into your palm, “You aren’t hurting me. It feels wonderful.”

He kisses you then, messy and wet, his lips taste like desperation. Even with his tongue tangled with yours, you are still trying to speak. Sweet nothings, forceful demands, anything and everything that comes to mind is trying to force its way out of your mouth. Something is in the pit of your stomach is twisting tight and you moan greedily into the cavern of his mouth as his hips meet yours again. You can feel that he’s losing his rhythm.

“S-sorry. I’m...im close…” A moan rips from his throat and he buries his face in your neck.

Your hips have started canting up to meet his, you want so badly to be close to him, to feel all of him, “M’close to. I love having you inside me, i want to do this again and again and-”

Komaeda freezes, eyes turning to the door on the other side of the room. Footstops.

“Who is it? Did they hear? Are there going to come in? What do you think they’re going to do if they see you inside of-”

Komaeda covers your mouth with his palm. You’re still talking, but at least it’s muffled now. Kuzuryu and Hinata are chatting in the hallway, the footsteps seem only to be growing closer. You can't stop thinking terrible, horrible things, and while Komaeda’s hand keeps you quiet enough that they can't seem to hear you from outside, Komaeda can definitely hear you.

“I wanna keep going.”

His eyes are blown wide, but you feel the tell-tale throb of his cock inside of you, “ What?! ” he hisses, “there’s no way you can keep quiet like this...they’ll definitely hear us.”

“I don’t care if they hear us, I want them to hear us. I want them to know what you’re doing to me.”

His hips twitch, and he bites his lip hard to keep in a moan, “You're not ashamed to be seen intimately with someone as despicable as me?”

You coo at him, running your index finger down the front of his throat and over the mark you left on his collarbone, he tentatively removes his hand from your mouth and pushes some sweaty hair away from your forehead, you smile, “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m in love with you.”

Komaeda sucks a breath in through his teeth, and it is only then that you realise what you have said.

“Oh GOD. I didn't - I'm so sorry.” your eyes are wide, you’re ready for him to jump up and bolt out of the room, “I just thought it and then i said it, and jesus christ im so sorry-”

You’re cut off by his lips. The kiss is gentler, less desperate, but filled with the depth of passion. He starts thrusting in and out of you again, and you gasp in surprise at the feeling. He pulls away from the kiss, and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy as one of his hands slips down under your knee. He pushes your leg up higher and you choke on a moan at how much deeper this new angle feels.

A high-pitched whine leaves his throat as he continues moving inside of you, he swallows, “I...I love you too.”

“Aaah... ahhh .” You’re so close at this point, the coiling in your stomach is about ready to snap, “I love you so much, I want your cum, please! ”

“I’ll give it to you, I...hah...I’ll fill you up...is that what you want?”

His hand slips down to your clit and you shriek , clenching hard around his cock, “Yes, yes, yes! I’m close...i'm so close…”

“I’m gonna...I...I…”

A moan rips through you as your climax finally hits, for the first time this day your mind is void of thoughts. All you can do is feel . Your fingers dig into the bedsheet under you, and your legs tighten around Komaeda’s waist. He writhes and moans above you,  he just keeps going, harder and harder and harder, and then, with a heavy groan you feel him release inside of you.

“Thank...you…” you mutter, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Before Komaeda has a chance to say anything in return, someone clears their throat on the other side of the door. The two of you freeze.

“Are you two done?” Hinata asks, he sounds exasperated.

Komaeda clears his throat, “Um...yeah...pretty much.”

“His dick is literally still inside of me! Maybe give us a few minutes!” You wince at the blunt sentence that just left your mouth, Komaeda is clearly trying not to laugh, you huff “Sorry Hinata! I can't help it!”

This disease was going to be the death of you.