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shreeader · 9 months

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Hallway Crush; Phantom Ghoul x Reader

Words: 2715

Pronouns: they/them

WARNINGS: Lots of fluff, like so much fluff, it’s kinda tooth-rotting, the band Ghost is Satanic, mentions of people being gay, slight overthinking, cute stuff, pretty minimal use of y/n

Summary: Phantom sees you at a ritual, and then starts passing by you in the hallway everyday.

A new ghoul. Correction, two new ghouls. They were adorably excited to be part of the ministry; it was obvious on their masked faces.

They already had nicknames from the siblings of sin as well. The ghoul who had taken the position of rhythm guitarist was nicknamed Phantom, and the new female multi-ghoul was nicknamed Aurora. Both had their variations, but Phantom and Aurora stuck the most.

Some of the people in the ministry were sad that Aether was no longer wanted and Sunshine was gone as well, but most welcomed the new ghouls with open arms.

The hallways of the ministry were warmed to a certain degree from the summer heat outside. People were walking the halls, buzzing with excitement for the upcoming ritual. It was later that night, but those setting up were rushing around all over the place, stressing over everything.

Everyone stopped when they heard a muffled microphone screeching from the separate building, and Papa Emeritus IV’s voice rang through once it was finished. “Mic check.” He said before his wonderful voice sang out lyrics to whatever song he could think of, which so happened to be Mary On A Cross.

Smiles lit up the faces as everyone somehow grew even more excited. You stared out the window toward the building with everyone, a grin on your face as well. You and your friends had luckily won the tickets to be in the pit, which were raffled out to several members each ritual out of fairness.

Some of your friends wanted to be on Sodo’s side or toward the middle where they would be able to see Papa better, but you wanted to be on Phantom’s side. The new ghoul has piqued your interest, so you wanted to see what he could do.

A guitar pierced the air, a complex sound with chords that didn’t sound like they belonged to Sodo. People let out squeals of excitement as chatter picked up.

“That’s gotta be Phantom!” One of your friends yelled, jumping while using one of your other friend’s shoulders as a boost.

The deep sound of a bass guitar rang out, gaining even more squeals and sounds of excitement from those in the hall. “Rain!” A chuckle left your lips as you felt the same as everyone else in the hall. No matter how many times you’ve all heard them warming up, the joy still ran its course.

It was almost impossible to get used to them, especially whenever they spice it up.

Another guitar cut through, the chords and skill outdoing the rhythm guitar as if it were a competition. “Oh my Satan, Sodo!” Those around you yelled loudly and there was no doubt fans of the lead guitarist roaming the halls.

One of your friends turned to you, their purple hair bright and colorful. “We should all go get ready!” Erin exclaimed, grabbing your hand and your other friend’s hand. The rest of the group followed as they dragged you throughout the hall.

You stood in the slow-moving line, chatting with your friends. Excitement coursed through your veins as your turn was next. You happily gave your ticket to the user, and they let you enter the pit.

Erin agreed to be on Phantom’s side of the stage with you, making you happy and full of relief. You managed to snag spots right in front of the barrier. “No matter how many times I’ve been, it still feels like a fever dream!” You yelled to Erin, who nodded in agreement.

It felt like forever before it started. The curtain dropped as Kaisarion began playing. You and Erin were quick to join in with everyone’s shouts of excitement and sang along to the lyrics. Phantom played expertly as you pulled out your phone and aimed your camera at him.

Throughout the ritual, he interacted with the crowd a lot. He seemed to keep his eyes on you quite often, even staring at you during Cirice and Mummy Dust. He had tossed a pick to you, which you had caught with a big grin on your face.

At the end of the ritual, you had also gotten a drumstick from Mountain, while Erin gained picks from both Swiss and Rain. You weren’t envious of their treasures because you had your own, and you could only guess that you’d get more trinkets later in life.

You held the drumstick and pick tightly in your grasp, still feeling euphoric and slightly lightheaded from the ritual. Erin had slung their arm around your shoulders as they laughed, leading you to your other friends before you could go get something to eat from the ministry’s cafeteria.

The members of the ministry were still buzzing from the excitement of the previous night. Everyone did their tasks happily as they hummed whatever song was stuck in their head. Everyone included you, as you walked through the halls with a smile on your face as you hummed the solo that Phantom had done during Square Hammer.

People stopped and said hi to whoever was walking in the halls, and you were quick to do so yourself. Your eyes landed on the ghoul you were just thinking about, making a shy grin land on your lips as you greeted him. He returned your smile, and it seemed almost as if it was a brighter smile than the ones he had given others.

You both continued on with your assigned things as you passed by each other.

The following days, you saw him several times. Each time, he gave you the same bright smile and happy greeting, which you gladly reciprocated.

Your friends had begun to notice. They had gotten smiles and greetings from him, but none of them had gotten the same toothy smile and adorable little “hello” that you got from him.

Some of the other ghouls had begun to notice as well, and it quickly spread around in their little circle. Swiss had been the first to notice, which some found somewhat surprising. They didn’t believe him until Cumulus confirmed it herself, and most of them have paid attention to it since.

At lunch after quite a few days of the hallway meets, your friends had been staring at you. It made you feel uncomfortable, so you spoke up. “Why am I being stared at like a Jesus promoter trying to force Christianity on us?”

Erin tried to hold back the smile that wanted to force itself on their lips. “So,” they finally spoke. “Phantom.”

You raised your brows in confusion, wondering why they were bringing up the rhythm guitarist. “What about him?”

“Do you like him?” Your lesbian friend Dahlia asked, leaning forward as a cheeky smile rested on her dark red lips.

“He’s my favorite ghoul, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Dahlia laughed, and Riley spoke up from his spot next to her. “She means romantically.” Your face heated up, causing laughter to sound from several of your friends’ mouths.

“Even if I were, there would still be so many other people who are as well, so why single me out?” You asked, gripping onto your fork tightly. Your gaze quickly travelled each of their faces.

Taylor bumped her shoulder to yours with a light smile. “Because there’s no way he doesn’t like you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah right. I don’t believe you guys.” You huffed, your heart racing in your chest. Phantom was cute, and if he had an interest in you…

You shook the thought from your head. There’s no way he would have any interest in you. It’s ridiculous. If anything, he was merely just a hallway crush. That’s it. Someone you only like when you see them in the hallway. Plus, he has a ton of fans who would kill to be with him.

Yet there was still that spark of hope in your chest. It had been so tiny before.

You had noticed how much happier he looked at the sight of you.

You had noticed that before that ritual you were in front of him at, he never took that hallway.

You had noticed that after that ritual, he had started taking that hallway everyday since he saw you there.

You had noticed that he often seemed reluctant to leave after saying hello to you in the hallway.

You had noticed his body language becoming a little shyer around you.

You had noticed that he never had his mask pulled up in the hallway, but everywhere else, it was put snugly above his nose.

Your friends had taken that spark of hope and added fuel, turning it into a tiny flame that you wanted to nurture into a much larger one.

You refrained from doing that, for your mind kept you from believing your friends. You just couldn’t believe them. There was no way you could without solid proof from Phantom.

You zoned back in to see them giving you soft smiles. “You’re so adorable.” Erin laughed, shoving some of the food on the tray in front of them into their mouth.

You were zoned out while roaming the halls later that night, not noticing you ended up in the spot where he always passes by you. You stopped where he usually managed to stop you, your attention returning.

Your eyes focused on the hardwood floors first before they trailed up and to the right, looking out the giant window. The moon was bright and full, providing more light to the dim hallway than it usually would. Stars were visible here and there, dotting the partly cloudy, night sky.

The quiet hallway was cooler than it was during the day, but it wasn’t anywhere close enough to leave you shivering. It was peaceful, making you almost wish you had brought a book or at least something to do with you.

Your thoughts were plagued by thoughts of Phantom. Your friends’ words forced thoughts of him even further forward in your mind than you would ever like to admit. You wondered if they were just trying to embarrass you or something, but you doubted that. Your friends were good people, and people you’ve known for a while and shared several secrets with.

Soft footsteps dragged your eyes from the moon, and there was a tall figure dressed in all black walking down the hall. It had no curves, nor was it as short as most of the ghoulettes, so you ruled out that possibility. You could barely make out the horns on his head, basically screaming that it was a ghoul.

As he grew closer, you noticed him reach up to the mask covering the lower half of his face. His pale hand with the black ring on the index finger moved it down from beneath his mask. His lips formed into the oh so familiar smile that you’ve been seeing in the hallway the past couple of days.

“Hello.” That one word made your heart flutter. His perfect voice sent your cheeks straight into a pit of lava, warming them up fast.

Your gut churned as you managed to splay a soft smile on your lips. “Hi.” You said your usual response, wringing your hands together in front of you. “Are you just passing by?”

“Only if you want me to be.”

He let out a small chuckle, and you were quick to shake your head. “No, I don’t.” You let your eyes trail over his masked face, which was covered in shadows.

It felt weird to see him in the shadows while you were in the moonlight. It’d normally be the other way around, as he was a managed sort of chaotic on stage. He shifted, eyes looked out at the moon as his smile stayed on his face. “It’s a gorgeous night, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it is.” You turned your eyes to look out the window as well. You couldn’t tell if the silence was a soft, uncomfortable one, or if it was an insufferable, awkward one. You looked back to see him looking at you.

He opened his mouth to speak, trying to find the right words, yet you could only assume they failed him as his mouth shut once again. “What’s your name?” He managed to ask, still giving you that toothy grin he still only gave you.

“(Y/n).” You answered, trying to keep your smile more toned down than it felt like it was going to be. “Do you normally pass through here at night or was this just a coincidence?”

Phantom let out an airy chuckle, almost as if he was embarrassed by what he was about to admit. “I started coming down this hall every night and standing at this window as a habit. I guess I was hoping you’d pass through here at this time, so I could see you.”

If you weren’t blushing before, you sure as hell were now. Your heart beat fast in your chest, and you felt as if he could hear it from his position near you. Your fingertips felt cold, yet your ears and neck burned with heat. Your brain had nearly short-circuited.

You didn’t know if you could handle a confession at that point. One of the ghouls hoping he could see you by coming to the same spot in the hallway that he sees you every day was honestly one of the cutest and most endearing things you’ve ever heard.

He stood there in front of you, playing with the ring on his index finger as he stared at you. That toothy grin was merely just an awkward smile now, and you could feel a dopey one appearing on your face.

“That’s so adorable.” You breathed out, bringing your cold fingertips to your cheeks as his awkward smile turned into a relieved one. His lips were so expressive, even though they were also masked most of the time.

He took a step closer to you, the light shining a bit on his mask. It showed the long black horns perfectly, and you noticed how part of the mask had been scratched. You hoped it had just been a design choice of his and not anything serious.

Phantom took another step, stopping just in front of you. You craned your neck up to look into the pieces of plastic in front of his eyes. The moonlight was cheeky as it snuck in there somehow, giving you the faintest outline of his eyes.

They were probably so gorgeous beneath his mask, but you wouldn’t ask him to take it off out of respect and safety. He leaned his head down toward you as he brought his hands up.

They gently grabbed your cheeks, palms rough with calluses from playing guitar and who knows what else; however, they were so warm against your already warm cheeks. Your hands placed themselves above his as you both kept your smiles, albeit however shaky they were.

He was careful not to let the tips of his horns touch you as he leaned the forehead of his mask against your forehead. You could just barely feel his breath on your face, and you managed to make out his eyes shutting behind his mask.

You watched him for any sign of movement before you let your eyes fall closed. “Hello.” He whispered, warning a small giggle from you at how silly it was.

“Hi.” You responded, and Phantom’s hands moved to intertwine with yours, pulling them down from your face to rest between you two.

You fluttered your eyes open to see him staring at you. “What do you say to getting to know each other?” His voice was hopeful, making the spark of hope in your chest ignite once more.

The spark that had turned into a small flame, was growing into a bonfire. You figured that it would soon turn into a raging inferno or blaze.

You squeezed his hands in your tender moment with him, the moonlight shining through the window onto you both so softly, yet so perfectly. “I say yes.”

It was honestly incredible how after a ritual, seeing each other in the hallways and giving each other little greetings turned out. His smile, his personality, his voice, just him. He became a hallway crush, and you hoped he would become something more.

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #phantom ghoul #phantom x reader #phantom ghoul x reader #gender neutral reader #phantom ghost #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv #the nameless ghouls #x reader #x gender neutral reader #fluff #pure fluff

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ilici · 3 years

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pay the consequence.

Summary: Y/N has been a brat all day while Sapnap, Dream, and George have been streaming. Once they get off and go to punish her, she quickly hides and once they find her she pays the consequences.

Request by: @gogywasfound

NSFW MINORS DNI !!

Warnings: Choking, cockwarming, thigh riding, orgasm denial, oral (receiving & giving), hair pulling, size kink, and spanking.

Word Count: 2554

Y/N was now straddling Sapnap’s lap as he was streaming with his other two boyfriends, or to the world, friends. Sapnap agreed to let her stay on his lap if she was good, and she agreed. What he didn’t know is that she had already got kicked off of Dream’s lap for grinding against him. “I am streaming with 60k people watching, make one peep or even start something you’re off.” He told her, with his mic muted to both George and Dream, along with his stream. “Yes sir.” She whispered resting her head on his shoulder, playing with his now shorter hair. “How was your time with Karl?” She asked him quietly so the mic wouldn’t pick up, and he sighed muting his mic, “It was good, now quiet.” He told her, giving her hip a soft warning tap. Nodding, she stuck to just playing with his hair, and the hood that was connected to his hoodie. After a short moment of silence, besides Sapnap’s talking and the sound of his keyboard, she easily grew bored.

She let out a sigh, that Sapnap easily ignored, or he either couldn’t hear over George’s constant scream of fear. Tapping his shoulder trying to get his attention, he finally gave her two taps on the hip that indicated, ‘I’m listening’ and she smiled at that. Slowly she moved her hips around, acting as if she was trying to get comfortable, but in reality she was trying to make him hard. Sapnap froze as he felt himself growing hard, so he instantly tapped her hip warning her to stay still. Y/N on the other hand, pouted at this. She stilled her movement, but soon grinned when she felt his bulge against her inner left thigh. Sneakily she moved one of her hands from his shoulder, down in between her thighs. Sapnap’s breath hitched when he felt her hand palming him through his sweatpants, and soon leaned his head back at the sensation. Y/N smiled at his reaction, and continued palming him, before she was suddenly on the ground of his streaming room.

“Ow.” She whispered, and Sapnap muted his mic, before looking down at her, shifting around trying to hide his very obvious hard on. “I told you, and you disobeyed. My lap is off limits, and you’re getting punished once I am done streaming.” He told her, and Y/N whined before she got up walking away and to her last victim: George. This one was going to be tricky for her, as he had his facecam on. The world didn’t know they were all in a poly relationship, nor did the fans know they had a girlfriend. Thinking of what to do, she bit her lip in thought as she made her way downstairs to his streaming room. Thankfully his camera was pointed directly at the wall behind him, and not the door that was to the right of him. Slowly opening the door, praying it wouldn’t creek upon opening, George’s attention was now to the right of him as Y/N entered. Giving him a small wave, he gave her a gentle smile.

Muting his mic quickly, “Hey bubs.” He said, and Y/N smiled happily at the nickname, “Hi baby.” She replied back, crawling over towards him, sitting down beside him, out of view of the camera. “Can I stay in here?” She asked him and George nodded, “Of course, just don’t pop up or that would be a very long story.” He joked, and Y/N quietly giggled as she looked around his oddly plain streaming room. It was different from the other two, it lacked color. It was a dim grey, and had black decor. “Sorry guys, my cat got in and I had to tell him to go.” George smoothly lied, and laughed as the chat started spamming ‘cat reveal’. “Sorry guys, he already left, maybe next time.” He said, as he moved his hand over, out of camera view under his desk patting Y/N’s head ruffling her hair. Y/N just slapped at his hand, and planned on teasing him soon. She planned on being more cruel to him, mainly because she couldn’t just simply get on his lap like the other two.

Crawling under his desk, and in front of him, she was now settled between his legs. George threw her a confused glance, but didn’t think anything of it as she has done this before. Y/N sat there for a couple minutes, to not make herself seem suspicious, and finally she crept her hand up his leg playfully scratching his thigh through his pajama bottoms. George jumped slightly at this, and scrambled for an excuse, “I got a cold chill.” He explained, and Y/N could hear the muffled voices of her boyfriends, making sexual jokes about George’s “cold chill”. “Shut up, it’s cold in this house.” He said in defense, slapping at her hand. Y/N slapped his hand back, and he retracted it to continue playing Minecraft. Taking this as her chance, she lifted her other hand up, tugging on his pajama pants. George looked down at her with disapproval before he finally broke at the sight of her silent pleading. Raising up a bit, Y/N instantly tugged his pajama bottoms and boxers off.

George silently hissed as the cold air hit his now bare cock, and Y/N looked up at him grinning. Reaching back up, she grabbed the base of his cock, looking up at his face to see his reaction since he was the overly sensitive one. George bit his lip, quickly tipping his head back before stopping himself, holding back a breath of shaky air that wanted to escape. Watching as his cock grew harder by the minute, she leaned up licking a long stride up his cock, and he instantly shivered letting the shaky air escape his lips. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around his tip, and George muted his mic abruptly, leaning his head back letting a low moan out. He knew people were going to clip the video of him doing it, but he didn’t care in this moment. Y/N soon started bobbing her head once he was fully erect, gagging every now and then. George had now unmuted his mic, and was holding everything in him not to be vocal.

Soon George looked down and locked eyes with Y/N, her E/C looked innocent as his cock was settled in her mouth, and he almost came at the sight. If only Y/N wouldn't have pulled away, he would have right then and there. George held back a groan at the loss of warmth and pleasure, as he took glances every now and then to her, to not try and seem suspicious of just staring down under his desk. Y/N who was wiping away the drool on her face, quickly crawled away leaving her boyfriend behind half naked and rock hard. He instantly grew infuriated, and the ‘let’s play the guess where Dream is game’ comments didn’t help at all. He was going to punish her to no end, and he wouldn't regret a thing. Y/N was now laying on the couch, watching tv, when she heard movement from down the hall and upstairs. She froze, and soon she was panicking as she now had three horny angry men after her.

Her first instinct was to just freeze, and finally it settled in and she bolted off the couch. She quickly ran into the kitchen, thankful she was wearing socks so her hurried footsteps were quiet against the hardwood flooring. Opening up one of the cabinets that she could fit in, she rushed into it trying to be as quiet as she possibly could. Closing the cabinet door, she heard the three meet up in the living room. “Have you seen Y/N? “Either of you seen N/N?” “Where’s Y/N?” The three spoke at the same time annoyance laced in their voices. The three threw each other confused glances, before Dream sighed, “She went to you two too didn’t she?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Sapnap nodded while George cursed under his breath. “The damn brat practically gave me blue balls from not finishing the blow job.” George said, while Sapnap and Dream looked at him smirking.

“So it wasn’t cold, was it?” Sapnap said, and George just hit the back of his head, “Focus you idiot. Y/N obviously was being a brat, and she needs to be punished. We just have to find her.” George said, and Sapnap frowned rubbing the back of his head. “She was obviously watching tv.” Dream pointed out, as the covers were thrown on the floor, and the tv was still on. “So she couldn't have gone upstairs, nor down the hallway, so she is around here.” George concluded, and Sapnap looked around, “Y/N if you come out now you will not be punished!” Sapnap yelled, and there was no sign of Y/N coming out. “Well she’s either in here, the kitchen, bathroom, movie room, or outside. Last option is doubtful since the door is still locked.” Dream said, and they soon decided to break off and look for her. Not without a bet of $100 on the line, the idea from Sapnap. Dream walked around the movie room, looking under every possible thing he could.

Sapnap wandered around the living room and bathroom that connected to it. George was now walking around in the kitchen, trying to think of any hiding place. Looking behind the door, he groaned and the three were about to give up until George remembered a certain spot. “God we are so stupid!” He whispered to them, “We missed the first place she hid when we first moved in here.” He whispered to them, and the three were now pushing each other as they scrambled to the cabinets. Finally Dream was now opening the cabinet door, locking eyes with his girlfriend who nervously waved, “Hi baby..” She whispered, and Dream smirked, gently pulling her out of the small area. “Hello baby.” Dream said back, and Y/N nervously giggled, as she was now being carried to the bedroom. “I’m sorry.” She quickly said, as she held onto Dream looking up at Sapnap and George. Sapnap just shook his head, and George grabbed her face scoffing, “Brat’s aren’t sorry.”

Whimpering she yelped as she felt the impact of being thrown on the bed, “Undress now.” Sapnap demanded, and Y/N quickly stripped of the hoodie she was wearing, and sleeping shorts. “Everything.” Dream spoke up, and Y/N reluctantly took off her bra and underwear, leaving her bare. Soon after, the other three were now naked, and Sapnap got on the bed, picking Y/N up placing her on his lap. “No movements what so ever, got it?” He whispered in her ear, and Y/N shivered at the tone of his voice nodding. Slowly he entered in her, letting her cockwarm him. He moved back, bringing Y/N with him, as he leaned against the headboard, getting comfortable as Y/N was dying to move for sensation. “Look how small you are compared to Sapnap. God I would absolutely destroy you if I could.” Dream said, feeling himself get even more turned on from how small she looked on Sapnap’s lap.

George got up on the bed, as he stood up, using the headboard as balance. “Open.” He said, and Y/N opened her mouth, gagging instantly once George thrusted into her mouth. Sapnap held her hips still, as he noticed she tried to make subtle movement for friction, and soon Dream crawled onto the bed enjoying the sight of George face fucking Y/N as she cockwarmed Sapnap. “God this is my favorite sight ever.” He groaned out, as George quickly came inside Y/N’s mouth. Pulling out, Y/N coughed wiping the cum off of her face that managed to escape and trail down her chin. As soon as she was about to get her breath back completely, she felt a stinging sensation go through her skull as Sapnap pulled her hair back roughly, wrapping his free hand around her throat. “Not a sound from you.” He whispered into her ear, licking the shell of it. Nodding her head, she breathed heavily once his grip from her neck was gone.

Soon, she was able to raise her head back up as he let go of the death grip on her hair. Sapnap lifted her up off his cock, after a good moment of cockwarming. Y/N was roughly pulled over and slammed down on the bed, another hand clasped around her throat. “Hi baby.” Dream said, smirking as he used his other hand to trail down her body, playfully rubbing her clit. Y/N almost moaned, but was stopped when she remembered what Sapnap told her. “Such a good girl.” George spoke up from beside of her, as he caressed her cheek. Dream let go of her neck, as he licked his way down her body finally making contact with her clit. Arching her back, she bit her bottom lip roughly, as Dream started roughly eating her out like she was his last meal. George, held her hand, reminding her not to make a sound, and Y/N curled her toes as Dream sucked harshly on her clit.

Feeling herself growing close, Dream quickly pulled away and Y/N whined, which made the three men glare. “What did Sapnap say?” George said, and Y/N was now flipped over by Dream, her ass up in the air. Sapnap came over, and slammed a hand down on her ass, before he repeated this action a couple more times leaving both of her ass cheeks bright red. Y/N was now in tears from the feeling, while Dream rubbed her ass soothingly. “Are you ready?” Sapnap asked, as he pulled her back, letting her sit on Dream’s cock as he entered from behind with some lube. George watched, enjoying the beautiful scene in front of him, as Sapnap and Dream thrusted into her synced together, and Y/N’s moans were the cherry on top. They all loved how vocal she was, “Fuck, I’m close!” She moaned out loudly, and the other two grunted, “Cum with them. George told her, and she eagerly nodded as the two other sped up.

Feeling themself growing close, Sapnap and Dream nodded at one another, “Cum baby.” George told her, and Y/N let a very strong orgasm rake through her body as she felt the warm substance enter her in both holes. Soon she felt empty as the pulled out, George picking her up, carrying her tired body to the bathroom, the other two following behind. Sapnap started the water, as Dream got the bubble mix, pouring it into the water as George got into the tub with her. Dream slowly sinked into the tub as Sapnap got towels for everyone, before he himself sunk into the tub. Everyone relaxed in the water, before George turned it off, cleaning Y/N’s body and washing her hair. “Did you learn your lesson?” Dream asked, and Y/N tiredly nodded, “Yes sir.” She whispered.

#dreamwastaken #dream x reader #dream imagine #dream smut #georgenotfound smut #georgenotfound imagine #georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #sapnap smut #sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnap imagine #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 3 years

Text

Part Eight. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."

warnings: swearing word count: 2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream xf!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: ahehahehoho ik sapnap didn't fly to dreams house before they moved in together but this is a fanfic and therefore what i say goes and i say he did :) hope you enjoy!!!!!!

**********

"SAPNAP!" Y/n yelled into her phone, smiling against the cool device.

"Bugsy!" he said with a laugh.

"You're with Dream?"

"Yeah, you wanna say hi?"

"No, give the phone to Patches!!"

"She literally hates me. She runs away when I see her."

Y/n laughed and heard a voice of protest in the background.

"Dream claims it's because she's shy but she literally hissed at me in my nightmares so I think we have bad blood."

Y/n giggled and balanced the phone between her shoulder and cheek. "You're still on for Among Us tonight, right?"

"Yeah, why? What's up?"

"I was just checking since you're visiting Dream apparently. I don't want to take away from your bro time or whatever."

"Oh, nah, it's good. I'm only here so we can look at places to live together and stuff. He told you I'm moving in with him soon, right?"

"Yeah! That's awesome!"

"Yeah. But, yeah, I love playing games with you! Besides, he has his stupid George plug-in to finish still so I'll be bored. So yes, of course I'm still playing, Bugsy!!!!"

"I've never made a lobby before so I'm just nervous," she said, the feeling evident in her voice.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure none of them pull that stupid prank we pull with Quackity all the time when we tell him we're leaving and pretend like he's muted. It always drags on for like half an hour."

"Okay, good. I'm literally so scared already I don't need hooligans messing with me."

"Don't worry, I got you, Bugsy."

"Thanks. Hey, can you tell Dream he sucks?"

Sapnap groaned. "I don't wanna be your messenger for your love letters to each other."

"Sapnap!" she exclaimed. "No, just... tell him he sucks."

She listened as Sapnap's voice became muffled and she heard him relay the message. A loud, "BUGSY!!" was heard in Dreams voice and she giggled.

"He's dramatically appalled. He said—you know what, no. You guys can talk to each other on your own phones. I'm not being a delivery boy."

"Boo, no fun. I'll let you go so you can hang out with Dream but I can't wait for the game!"

"Me too! See ya Bugsy, love you."

"Love you, Sap!!"

**********

Y/n drummed her fingers lightly against her desk as she waited for people to join her stream. She was muted, her viewers only left with the sounds of the music she played and the image of her commissioned "starting soon!!" screen. She double-checked the Discord call she was deafened and muted in to make sure her friends were actually there before unmuting her stream and welcoming everyone.

"Chat!!" she announced happily. "Hi! Hello! Welcome one and all to my stream!" She glanced at the chat which was filled with welcomes and announcements of everyone's excitement. She thanked everyone that had donated and gifted subs before checking her surroundings, even though it wouldn't be shown on stream.

She was bundled in a hoodie, her comforter from her bed wrapped around her and trapping her in a cocoon. The lights were off except a candle on her desk and her fairy lights around her room. It was all very serene. She was ready.

A dono came through and she laughed at the question. "Why isn't Dream joining? Um, because he said no. He doesn't have time for me," she joked, recalling them teasing each other about making time for one another. "This just in: Dreamwastaken hates BugsyGames."

Moments later, a $20 dono came through from Dream saying, "not true".

"Dream!" she exclaimed with a laugh. "You can donate and stalk my stream but not play with us? Very rude. Get off my stream and go finish coding, nerd." Despite her words, she couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright, folks! Listen up, today is gonna be so fun. We got Karl, we got Quackity, we got Tubbo, Ranboo, Sapnap, George, Schlatt, Corpse, Sykkuno," she took a dramatic breath and paused, making sure she wasn't forgetting to mention anyone. "Okay? It's gonna be so fun and I'm very excited!" She glanced at chat and smiled at all the positivity.

user4: SYKKUNO AND BUGSY YES

user5: corpse!!!!!! T_T

user2: omg watch out dream, we got another faceless man he might come for ur girl

user7: omg is this the first time bugsy is playing with tubbo and ranboo???

"Yes, I'm very excited to have Corpse and Sykkuno play today! I haven't played anything with them or Schlatt yet but I have played Minecraft with Tubbo and Ranboo not too long ago. So it should be fun!! Okay, let's join the vc!!"

She typed in the text channel that she was joining before unmuting and undeafening herself. Her headphones were immediately filled with voices speaking over each other, one louder than the rest.

"—aren't, but come on, there has to be something! We aren't blind!" It was Quackity. "Well, George is colorblind but—"

"Hey!" George protested of Quackity's fit of laughter.

"I think they'd be cute," Tubbo said.

"Me too!" Sykkuno's sweet voice rang.

"Quackity!" Karl shouted, exasperated. "I promise you they aren't actually dating! Like actually!!! She's my best friend and she would tell me if something was going on!!" His voice was desperate, almost as if he felt like Quackity was doubting his friendship with whoever he was talking about. Wait, Y/n was Karl's best friend. Were they talking about...

"Yeah, that and I'm literally in his house right now," Sapnap said. "That's two people who are close with the sources who haven't heard anything. I've literally asked Dream straight up to his face and he said no. And he's a terrible liar so I would be able to tell if he and Bugsy—"

"Hi everyone!!" Y/n said quickly, snapping out of wanting to listen to the gossip when she remembered she was streaming. She was worried about how detailed everyone would go into their theories and opinions of what sounded like her and Dream dating.

Where did they get that idea? she thought.

She didn't dare look at her chat in case they picked up on what the boys were talking about, which was very likely.

Quackity and Corpse started laughing loudly at Y/n's entrance while Tubbo stammered out an awkward, "Hel-hello Bugsy!" as if he had been caught doing something wrong. Oh, Tubbo, my sweet son, you could never do anything wrong.

"What are... you guys, haha, uh... talking about?" she asked slowly, hoping they would lie if they were talking about what she thought they were.

"The weather," Sapnap lied.

"Uh, uh, uh," Corpse stammered with a small laugh at the end.

"Tax evasion!" Ranboo shouted.

"Don't let these pricks lie to you, Bugsy," Schlatt said casually, his mouth clearly full of food. Probably a corndog or quesadilla or something. She tensed at his honestly, praying he wasn't going to blurt what they actually— "They're talking about you and Dream."

"M-me and Dream?"

"Are you dating? Yes or no?" he asked bluntly.

"Wha—n-no! No, we aren't."

"TOLD YOU!" Karl and Sapnap both yelled.

"Can we just.. play?" she asked with a laugh. She usually liked chatting with everyone before they played things on other people's streams but she was certain the topic was going to stay on her and Dream and she didn't want that. Bugsy and Dream... that has a nice ring to it, she thought before shaking her head to rid it from her mind. Weird.

"I do have one question, Bugsy," Schlatt said. "Bugsy... what is that? All I can think of is Bugsy Siegel."

"Because you're the most New York New Yorker on the planet," she groaned with a small laugh. "Bugsy just sounded cute, don't compare me to a mobster."

"Then don't name yourself after one."

"Please can we play?" Y/n groaned. "I just wanna play."

"Me too!" Tubbo agreed.

"This is why you're my favorite, Tubbo."

"Yeah, let's get this shit over with," Schlatt sighed among all the agreeing to start. "If you're the imposter, you are canonically Bugsy Siegel."

**********

"TUBBO!" Y/n yelled as the defeat screen appeared. The boy laughed as he sputtered out a defense. "You and Ranboo?? My own sons?! How did you guys get away with that? I literally said from the beginning that it was Ranboo and NO ONE listened to me!!"

"Sorry, mother," Ranboo apologized before laughing.

"I don't trust women," Schaltt said.

"Schlatt, why would I target Ranboo or Tubbo if I didn't have solid evidence it was them? I'd blame someone like Sapnap if I was imposter, not my own sons."

Tubbo laughed loudly and George giggled.

"You can't be trusted, Bugsy!" Quackity yelled. "You lie every other goddamn round!"

"BECAUSE I KEEP GETTING IMPOSTER!" she defended as she raised out of her chair slightly. She had never been so angry than when playing Among Us. It was a dangerous game for her. Her covers were thrown off of her body, abandoned at her feet, and her hoodie sleeves were pushed up. Good thing she didn't use a facecam because she looked like she could murder someone right then. "I have no choice but to lie!!!"

A new game started and she relaxed at the sight of her being crewmate again. She had already been imposter three or four times and they had only played six rounds.

She headed straight for the reactor to do her first task, closing out to see Sapnap silently standing behind her.

"Ah!" she yelled, jumping slightly. "You scared me, dude. Why... why are you being so cryptic?" No answer. "Ssssssssap.....nap?" she asked softly, confused by his uncharacteristic silence.

George walked in and stopped. "Why are you guys just staring at each other?"

"I was doing my task and turned around and Sapnap was here and he hasn't said anything. Sap?"

Shuffling was heard from his mic before he started moving again. "Hey guys!" he chirped as if he hadn't been super creepy moments before. "I was AFK, Dream brought me Chick-fil-a."

"Oh," Y/n breathed. "You looked super sus for a minute there, bud."

"Nah, I just got food," he said, voice muffled by said food to confirm. "Dream! Come say hi to your girlfriend!"

Wasn't Sapnap one of the ones that literally just argued with the group that Bugsy and Dream weren't dating?

Without further explanation, Y/n could hear footsteps coming from Sapnap's mic before Dream's voice came through. "Hi, Bug. Hi, George."

Y/n laughed, glad he greeted George too. Maybe that's who Sapnap meant in the first place? Why did she assume they were talking about her? Ugh, everything was confusing when she had butterflies in her tummy at the mention of Dream's name.

"I'm his favorite girlfriend," George teased, circling around Y/n's character.

"Also his only girlfriend," she said.

"Oh also," Dream's voice appeared again. "Sapnap's imposter."

Y/n and George ran away screaming, heading straight for the emergency button.

**********

Later that night, stream over and Y/n tucked into bed, she scrolled through Twitter and laughed at a Tweet Dream had posted. It was like it was made for her. She ran through her camera roll and found her favorite memes that applied to the request.

She smiled widely and giggled at the butterflies in her stomach when moments later, she received a text from the boy himself. Looks like he wanted her number for more than just to make a cabin vacation group chat (which had yet to be made, she noted).

**********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

**********

tags: OPEN (at the time) (if your name is in BOLD i couldnt tag you sorry!)

@hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk @haseulreturns @queenwastaken @peteysgf @losingvienna @bi-narystars @zero-nightshade @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime @youhyakuya @danny-devitowo @clubfairy @loser-keiji @oi-itsemily @alm334 @the-katastrophe @wreny24 @applecakeradio @unicornblood4ever @brendalopez99 @spacecluster @justonemoreepisode @strawbrinkofdeath @aikochan4859 @chaotic-tieflings @dreamsofficialwife @where-thesundoesntshine

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #mcty x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #smau #dream smau #dreamwastaken smau #social media fic #rpf #real person fic

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charspnp · 3 years

Text

Hey can I request a really fluffy Karl imagine? Where they’ve been friends for ages and realise they like each other or something

- anonymous

not a kissing booth

「 karl jacobs x g/n!reader 」

a/n: i feel like i didn't really fulfill the request fully djddjf but i hope you like it! :)

masterlist

saying goodbye always was and always will be the hardest part of moving. it doesn't matter if you're moving a mile away or a thousand miles away, having to say goodbye to someone you love is borderline unbearable.

but... saying bye to karl was... different… why? well, who knows, really. maybe it was because you've known each other your whole life? or maybe it's because you spend pretty much every day together talking and talking but never running out of things to talk about?

or, perhaps, the reason saying bye to karl was so different is because you were in love with him.

the hug you shared wasn't like any other hug you'd shared with the man. it was tight, comforting, a silent plea to stay in touch, to call or text him every day (as if you weren't going to already). then the very insistent, repeated, spoken plea to call or text him every day came and, for some reason, that's when you couldn't hold back your tears any longer.

as soon as he saw the first tear fall, karl grabbed your face softly and wiped it away.

"no, no, no, don't cry," he spoke softly, "don't-don't cry cause we're not saying goodbye, okay? we're-we're gonna talk every day, alright? every single day, i don't care what time it is for me cause i'll pick up, i'll answer. always. okay?" though he was asking for you not to cry, he started tearing up himself. he nodded to you, asking for an affirmation that you knew he would always be there. you nodded back and put your hands softly on his, leaning into is touch. you nodded once again, confirmation to yourself that he would be there.

from behind the two of you, your mother honked the car horn to signal that you had to go. glancing back at the car then back to your best friend, you let go of his hands and wrapped them around his middle tightly. he returned the sentiment just as affectionately.

"call me when you get there, okay?"

"okay."

"hey," he pulled away but still kept you close, "i love you, okay? and-and i'll miss you."

yes, goodbyes are hard, but the two of you kept your promise. although, it wasn't too hard when the both of you became streamers and played together 24/7. you and karl just had small names in the community before karl got picked up by mr beast and dream with his server. after the dream smp blew up, so did karl. any other person would've felt left in the dust or forgotten, but with you it was quite the opposite. you were happy for karl, ecstatic that he grew to fame and had so many loyal fans.

every time karl asked if you wanted to be on the smp, you declined, though, no matter how badly you wanted to accept. it was because of those loyal fans that you always declined. you were scared that they would psychoanalyze you and your behavior and find out about your crush on karl. yup. it's a stupid thought, but valid at the same time. you don't know when you started having this crush, whether it started when you two were in grade school or if it was recent, but it's the and you hate it. you hate having to hide your feelings from your best friend and lying to him when he asked for the reason as to why you didn't want to join the smp.

"but whyyyy," karl whined, hoping you would give a different reason as to not stream with him (or maybe even finally agree).

"because! that's a lot of eyes on me, karl. it's scary." liar.

"dude, you're a streamer, you have eyes on you anyways! you can't say you never thought you'd get over 1k viewers at a time."

"yes i can! because i never thought my best friend would get so famous so fast and suddenly have, like, over 60, or even 100k viewers at a time!"

"c'mon, just- please? please play on the smp with me? stream with me- for me?" he begged with his stupid, cute puppy dog eyes you can never say no to. bastard.

you huffed, "fine- fine! i'll play on the dream smp with you."

karl's face lit and as he bounced around his room, yelling, "yes! yes! finally!"

you chuckled and shook your head at him, "yeah, yeah."

karl stopped hopping around and leaned down to his mic to speak, "when can you play?"

"just, whenever."

"tomorrow?" he grinned widely, excitement noticeable in his eyes even from across the country.

"t-tomorrow?" you weren't expecting it to be that early, but still, you couldn't let down karl. "s-sure. yeah, tomorrow's fine. what time?"

"3pm, my time." though he had calmed himself for the most part, you could still see him jittering and fidgeting with excitement.

"o-okay. sounds good," you spoke warily. changing the subject, the two of you continued talking all night.

when the next day came, you were immediately reminded of what was to come later that day when karl sent you your daily good morning text. reading through the small message, you ran a hand through your hair and sighed, turning to your pillow to just lay there. though it wasn't until the afternoon, you were already stressing how it would go.

after about 10 minutes of just lying there in bed, you responded to karl with your own good morning text then turned off your phone. running your hands down your face, you got up out of bed to start the day.

"how ya feelin?" karl asked, seeing how much you were fidgeting.

"nervous," you responded truthfully. karl already had his 'starting soon' screen up and you were yet to even begin yours. "i don't want them to hate me, y'know."

"dude, they're not gonna hate you, i promise. even if they don't like you, they'll see how much i love you and they'll learn to accept it."

you blushed at his words, knowing he didn't have a clue as to what they did to you. "y-yeah. yeah, i hope."

finally starting your stream with your own 'starting soon' screen, you tweeted out that you're gonna be playing on the dream smp, and almost immediately your viewership was more than it ever has been. taking a deep breath, you waited until karl turned on the facecam to his stream.

"hi! hello, everyone!" karl began, "welcome! welcome to the stream!"

while he made small talk with his stream, you changed your screen from 'starting soon' to your facecam. you deafened yourself on discord and began welcoming your stream as well. you explained what was happening and what you were gonna be doing when karl started spamming "UNDEAFEN" in your chat. you chuckled before undeafening, only to hear karl making a monotone "aaaahhhhhh" sound. you called his name a couple times and when he didn't stop, you turned on your funny mic to get his attention.

"KARL!" you yelled, the audio coming out distorted as all hell. he finally acknowledged you by breaking character and laughing. "let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

about an hour and a half and a whole lotta laughter later, karl took you over to a large red building in the shape of a heart. glancing at your chat, all you saw was "DON'T GO IN" but you just laughed it off.

"okay, y/n, this is not a kissing booth," karl explained.

"not a kissing booth?"

"yes, definitely-definitely not a kissing booth. now wait-wait here," he instructed you before his character moved around the side of the building. you gave your camera a questioning look as you waited for whatever karl told you to wait for. as you were looking up at the building, you saw karl's character go inside the pink, glass heart. your jaw dropped at the adorable sight.

"karl! that's so cute!" you said as you crouched at his character.

"thank you," he giggled wildly (what you didn't know was that he was blushing profusely). "now," he exited the heart and came back around to you, "come in here."

he walked into the building and you followed, taking a quick moment to read the signs on the outside. you stood on the inside of the kissing booth, the crafting tables on the ground making you laugh quietly.

karl flipped a lever on one side of the room, "okay, so these are called the levers of consent. it takes two parties to consent, so mine is already down. if you consent, flip your lever."

you shook your head, but agreed anyways, "okay, i consent." you flipped the lever and suddenly the whole room went dark. you looked over to karl's character, only to see him crouching, slowly making his way over to you. you crouched back at him so you were eye level to him. your characters were close to touching before you got close to your mic and said, "are we about to kiss right now?"

his character stopped crouching as he started laughing wildly again, his giggles high pitched and absolutely adorable. our face split into a grin at the sound and your chat spammed your guys' ship name they came up with as well as "SIMP" which, in their defense, was very accurate.

deciding to mess with him a little, you looked karl's character in the eyes before saying, "karl, i'd say the s-word and get banned for you."

his giggles started up again, becoming high pitched and muffled as he covered his face. "no, no, stop, y/n please."

you giggled at him before pressing your character against his and making an over exaggerated "mwah!" sound.

to be expected, yours and karl's ship name was trending #1 on twitter with thousands of supporters.

#this didnt post for some reason ???#anyways 1k+ words for karl i love him #request #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dsmp x reader #dsmp imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #fluff #500 #char.writes #gn

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sunsukuna · 3 years

Text

— (call me by my name, and i’ll call yours). pt. i

☞ gojo x fem!reader. rated m. tw in tags. ☞ wc: 2959.

Gojo Satoru is a thief.

As evident by the notably empty container resting atop the cool and dark granite counters of your kitchen.

You didn’t cook often. There’s never really time, with your profession, for that. Cooking is a commodity turned luxury. Along with other basics like sleeping, sleeping restfully, sleeping in your own bed, sex, and sleeping.

You’re rarely home; your kitchen, along with most of your small studio, is kept fairly bare. Nothing in the fridge aside from a couple of water bottles. Nothing on your counters aside from sparsely used glass jars where you keep sugars, flours, and other dry ingredients. Nothing inside your cabinets except a few plates, bowls, cups, and a handful of your favorite spices. And nothing in your drawers besides enough eating utensils for a maximum of two people.

When you do have the time to cook, you prefer to savor the experience. The most substantial chunk of your time is spent contemplating flavors, textures, and smells—along with considering options for accompanying wines and desserts and hunting for fresh ingredients. Last night’s meal had been a tender salmon filet, picked from the nearest seafood market, baked and drizzled with tangy lemon and sweet honey. You had peppered with a dash of your most loved dried red peppers and served it with a plentiful side of vegetables. The recipe you put together turned out to your liking, even more so when you realized you had enough left to enjoy it again for lunch today.

Yet, here you are. Standing alone in your apartment, eyes unmoving from the plastic container, sans your fucking food, that was supposed to be neatly tucked away in your fridge.

Eyes still on the container, you wordlessly reach into your back pocket to grab your cellphone.

“Hey, Siri,” you say, jaw clenched and shoulders taut with tension. “Call ‘That Gojo Fucker.’”

Gojo is suspiciously quick to answer to your call, the phone not even ringing before his voice is blaring through your speakers.

He greets you cheerfully, almost singing your name and then humming a quick, “How can I help you, darling?”

His voice, laced with mirth and mischief, is enough to make your skin crawl and your gut twist with anxiety.

At his best, you consider Gojo to be a likable nuisance. You’ve know the ocean eyed curse user for a little over a decade, his presence constant even during the more tumultuous stages of both of your lives. He had managed to surprise you early in your friendship with his loyalty and earnest demeanor. Seemingly flighty by nature, Gojo Satoru holds unwavering dedication to the select few he chooses to accept into his life. Though occasionally rash and more often than not self absorbed, Gojo is a friend you’re thankful burrowed his way into your life.

But at his worst—you imagine him on the other end of your phone with an irritatingly familiar grin on his face, a smile stretched wide with ill-placed excitement—Gojo is just a nuisance.

“I told you not to call me weird names,” you chastise. “You ate my food, Gojo. Again.”

There’s a beat of silence followed by muffled sounds you can’t fully distinguish. The sound of fabric (ah, maybe clothes?) rustling and unintelligible whispers coming from a surprisingly dainty voice you’re not sure you recognize. And then—did he just mute himself?

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he finally responds after another moment.

“We’ve already discussed this,” you continue, choosing to ignore the fact that he’s very obviously in the middle something he doesn’t want you to hear. “You’re not even supposed to be in my apartment when I’m not here, and I—”

“Darling, how am I supposed to know when you’re home if you never answer my calls?”

“Enough with the pet names,” you scold quickly, your voice overlapping his. “And that’s literally not the point.”

“You never respond to my texts either,” Gojo continues as if you hadn’t spoken. “You respond to nerd-Nanami’s texts.” His tone matter-of-fact.

You can feel a migraine taking root, sprouting a dull ache between your brows. The urge to hang up is tempting as you consider ordering take out.

“Kento only texts me about work.”

A startled and undignified squeak tumbles from your mouth when a thunderous boom bounces through the speakers of your phone and straight to your eardrum. You hastily pull your phone away from your ear and decide it would be safer to put the call on speakerphone.

“What are you doing?” You nearly yell while your right hand tenderly massages your ear. “Are you on a mission?”

Your questions are followed by another wave of deafening silence. He’s muted his mic again, causing your forehead to scrunch in confusion. Gojo shouldn’t be on a mission today. A frown falls upon your lips. He’s supposed to be taking a day off.

“Gojo, you’ve gotta stop working during your time off. You’re going to go bald early,” you sigh, shoulders slumping as tension is released.

Another beat of silence trails behind your voice before you decide to hang up. Ordering delivery is starting to sound better and better as you start rustling though the drawer in your kitchen dedicated to local take away restaurants you adore. It won’t bring you the same satisfaction as a home cooked meal—your eyes shift to the empty food container once again as a sharp pain settles in your stomach—but it’s better than nothing.

“…”

Your brain is fast to process the unexpected sound behind you, just a few steps away, as being undeniably familiar. It’s the voice of a friend, you realize, who’s just called you by your given name. A name you covet so fiercely you’ve only shared it with a humble group of three. But your body reacts faster than your mind, a kitchen knife is in your hands and sent whistling out of your hands before your heart beats twice. You throw it with practiced ease and precision. Enough force to injure but not to kill.

A second knife is in your hand not a breath later as you turn to face your intruder, prepared to thoroughly mince whoever had the misplaced gall to break into your home. You have to force yourself not to scream when you find the first knife you threw frozen in the air in front of an ashen haired fiend fashioning a devilish grin staring at you.

“Gojo,” you seethe, your brain catching up. Your words tumble out in mess of curses and shaky breathes. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to stop fucking teleporting into my home, you slimy bastard.”

The impulse to throw the second knife isn’t lost on you, but you decide to toss it to the counter, abandoning the urge, knowing it wouldn’t make contact with your target.

“I really, really don't like when you do that, Gojo! It’s goddamn bad enough when I’m not here; it’s a complete invasion of privacy,” your voice is shrill at this point, vexing to your own ears, but you keep going. “But I really fucking hate when you sneak up on me, Gojo! It’s so—”

“Gojo this, Gojo that,” he interrupts your tirade, lazily pulling the knife you’d thrown out of the air and placing it on the counter. “Never Satoru, but always Kento. You know, darling, you’re kind of a brat.”

For the second time today, a feeling of confusion washes over you.

“I—w-what?” You reply a bit dumbly, your anger quickly replaced by growing bewilderment.

“You’re a brat,” he repeats simply. His voice is low, hushed, and ladened with unnerving apathy that causes you to bristle. You’ve heard this tone before—calculated and deceptively passive—but you can’t recall a single time he’s directed it at you.

Gojo takes a few steps forward, long legs quickly closing the already small distance and caging you between him and the countertop. His proximity is making you unusually nervous. His closeness makes your skin itch and your mouth dry. A new fluttering of anxiety bubbles in your gut, climbing the walls of your rib cage and nestling itself beneath your chest where you can feel heart thumping faster than you’d like.

You’ve been close to Gojo before. Your initial aversion to being touched by others dissolved entirely after years of missions and training sessions that have placed you in unavoidable positions. Gojo, especially, isn’t a bother after becoming accustomed to his incessantly grabby hands and roaming fingers that often found themselves lingering on your waist, squeezing your shoulders, tracing the patterns on your wrists, or laced between the waves of your hair.

Gojo’s touch, above anyone else, is one which you are well acquainted. And yet, in this moment, you realize you’re terrified for him to touch you.

You feel like running when you catch his crystalline eyes peering down at you, his midnight tinted lenses discarded alongside the knife on the counter. The look in his eyes, maddening and hungry, is enough to drown you. You want to bolt when his hand finds its way to the hem of your too large t-shirt, a jarring reminder that you have nothing on underneath because you hadn’t been expecting guests. Gojo’s other hand snakes itself into your hair, a sensation normally welcomed and relaxing, but you let out a surprised gasp when his fingers tighten around your locks and give a sharp tug.

Your hands quickly find themselves pressed against his chest, desperate to push him away and reintroduce much needed distance. You will yourself to ignore the heat of his skin that burns your palms through his thin button up. You give Gojo a push that does nothing to move him but does earn you another pull, this time harder, on your hair. A whimper crawls its way from the back of your throat, and you watch as his pupils bloom—obsidian eclipsing sky colored eyes.

“Did that hurt?” He licks his lips, eyes dropping quickly from yours to your neck.

The audacity of his question pushes you to finally speak, despite your still rampant nerves.

“Of course it hurt, you fucking creep,” you hiss, pushing at his chest again. “Gojo, let me go right now or I’ll—”

Another sudden jerk on your hair causes your words to be lost within a painful whine.

“Satoru,” he cuts you off with a grunt, hooking the hand that had been toying with your shirt under one of your thighs and lifting you onto the counter with ease.

You shudder at the feeling of granite beneath you. It’s frigid against the bare skin of your thighs. Even more chilling against the bare heat of your pussy. An overbearing rush of panic clouds your thoughts, jumbling your mind with anxiety, anger, confusion, and something else you’re uneasy to name.

Gojo discards your hair, both of his hands resting atop your thighs and dangerously close to touching—

“Call me Satoru,” Gojo breathes out, distracting you again. “I want you to call me by my name.”

“You’re being really weird.” You muster your voice, albeit weakly, and ignore his odd demand. “I want you to back up, and let me go. Please.”

His grip on you tightens, blunt nails digging into your thigh. You can’t stop yourself from wondering if his hands have always been so large. Your eyes widen as you realize they nearly swallow the whole of you.

“Oh,” he offers you a short, hollow laugh, “I didn’t know you could say please.”

“Gojo, I’m serious.”

Your eyes meet his again, and a long forgotten feeling scorches your insides. Starting in the pit of your belly and settling hotly in the center of your cunt. The realization makes you want to run away again, adrenaline sweeping over you amidst your panic and anger. The look in Gojo’s eyes is upsettingly knowing, as if he’s also unearthed what had been lost, perhaps purposefully buried, between your storm of emotions. That feeling you had been fearful to identify just moments ago, so severe you’re forced to acknowledge it.

“You’re so fucking disobedient,” Gojo groans. He sounds annoyed, but the low sound and unexpected swear leaving his lips sends another wave of longing through you.

“You’re fucking bratty,” he continues as he readjusts his already firm grip on your thighs and pulls you forward.

His hips meet your cunt, and your breasts press against his chest. You hazily consider if he can feel how wet you’ve become through his trousers. If he realizes your bra and panties won’t be found underneath your shirt should his hands wander any further.

He must because his next words leave him in a shaky breath. “You’re fucking mouthy,” he rasps, lips now pressed against your neck while his teeth lightly tug at your delicate skin. “I ask you for one thing, and you—fuck—can’t even do that.”

Your hands that had desperately tried to push him away earlier find themselves covered beneath a cascade of soft, snow colored locks, pulling Gojo closer. You can’t remember when you put them there. Your mind is too clouded with want; your thoughts are too fogged with images of what it would feel like to have his large hand cupping your breast, his tongue lapping at your pert nipple while he fucks into you, two fingers deep, with his other hand.

“You’re so wet, baby,” his voice no louder than a whisper. “You’re dripping on me, you’re fucking soaked, and I haven’t even stuffed you with my cock yet.”

You open your mouth with the intention of telling Gojo to kindly fuck off, irritated by the mocking undertone that had plagued vulgar his words, but all that comes is a lewd moan so shameless it spurs another humorless laugh from him.

“If you say my name, I’ll touch you properly,” he hums, mouth hovering over yours. His fingers dance along the slick folds of your aching cunt, teasing as he presses a finger at your entrance and his thumb to your clit. “Say my name, and I’ll fuck you.”

Greedy for more, you rock your hips forward, moaning loudly when you feel his finger slip inside you. The sensation is lost as quickly as you’d found it, though. Your brows furrow in confusion as your vision suddenly tilts, your mind sluggish to realize you’re being lifted from the counter and thrown over Gojo’s broad shoulders. A choked cry unintentionally falls from your mouth. Your hands, balled into fists and beating at his back, go ignored as he wordlessly carries you to your bedroom.

“Put me down, you asshole!” you screech, indignation and embarrassment leaking into your voice. “Fucking put me down, Satoru, I swear to fuck—”

Another strangled cry flies out of you when you’re sent falling backwards onto your plush bed. It takes a moment before your vision looks like it’s supposed to, the world correcting itself to be right side up. Gojo stands before you, and for the first time since his arrival you can really see him.

His white shirt, normally pressed and tucked neatly beneath the waistband of his pants, is disheveled. His hair, too, is a beautiful mess made by your hands. His lips plush and pink from painting your neck with kisses and bites that would probably leave marks. You swallow thickly as your eyes travel to his pants. They’re black, as usual, and tailored to fit his tall build. Your jaw drops, ever so slightly, when you see yourself smeared across the front of a tent in his pants.

When Gojo calls your name, your eyes snap upward to find his. Heat pools in your cheeks, and your ears feel like they’re on fire. You can’t help but feel ashamed of yourself. What the hell were doing trying to fuck your longest friend and coworker? And on your kitchen counter? You’re woefully aware that it’s been a long time since your last sexual encounter, but surely nothing could excuse or justify this type of mindless behavior.

This isn’t who you are. And Gojo, despite his prowess and frequent affairs, isn’t this either. Not with you—never with you. In over a decade, he’s never made any kind of advances that made you feel uncomfortable. Playful flirting and pet names aside, Gojo’s never touched you like this. He’s never spoken to you like this. There’s never been a single indication that he’s ever viewed you as anything beyond a friend; that line had never been crossed. Crossing it had never even been considered.

So how the fuck did a phone call about your missing salmon turn into you almost getting your guts rearranged in your kitchen?

Something must be wrong, you realize, your mind buzzing with newfound clarity as your lust driven haze dissipates. Gojo says your name again, clearer and louder than before. His underlying distress and panic don’t go unheard either. When you catch his eyes again, your heart plummets to your stomach and you feel like sobbing.

“I see,” you say numbly. The puzzle pieces are starting to fit together. “You were cursed, ‘toru.”

Whether he flinches at your use of the old nickname you hadn’t spoken in years or the fact that he had come to the same conclusion as you, you’re not sure.

“If we live through this, I’m gonna make fun of you for years,” you say resolutely.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of your era, owner of The Six Eyes and Limitless techniques, has been cursed by a nightmarish pair of curses you’ve only had the displeasure of reading about in tattered textbooks and ragged scrolls. The man is a thief and a fool.

And, just your luck, he’s dragged you into his curse.

“So, sweetie,” you smile bitterly, “how do we kill an incubus and a succubus?”

#gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #Gojo Satoru smut #tw.dubcon #tw.food #suna.scum #no beta

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kimistorm · 3 years

Text

Did you just ask me out on live stream? [Yang Jeongin]

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: [Jeongin x GN! Reader]

Warnings: none!

Requested by: @stupendousfriendcalzonehands Thanks for the request! Let me know what you think~

Prompts: "After how many ½ inches does it become a date?” “Did you say you knew how to do this?”

It started as a bet. You and Jeongin couldn’t keep up a weekly podcast for more than 2 months. The way Han phrased it, you could just do it on YouTube and in your dorms, but no, you were fueled by spite and somehow convinced your professor to allow you, Jeongin, and Hyunjin to live stream from the university’s audio studio.

Two months later and you had a small following, so you just continued. Much to Han’s shock.

“On to the final part of the show,” you spoke into your microphone as you scrolled through the outline, “answering your questions!” you let out a snort, “I don’t know why you guys keep asking us for advice. The other day Jeongin tried to joust Seungmin with an icicle.”

“And I won!” your partner declared gleefully with a wide grin.

“Mmm, debatable,” you teased, much to Jeongin’s chagrin, effectively wiping his face of the smile. “He only claims he won because Seungmin’s icicle broke first.”

“Yeah! That’s how it works!”

“But he hit you with it before you broke it!”

Jeongin threw his arms up in frustration, “this isn’t fencing!” From beyond the glass, you saw Hyunjin shaking his head in tired resignation as the two of you deviated from the script yet again and couldn’t help but giggle. “Deal with it Hyunjin,” Jeongin whispered into the mic when he saw what you were giggling at, causing your laughs to escalate. Hyunjin glared at the two of you and Jeongin put his hands up in surrender, “okay okay, actually onto the questions now. Which were chosen by our dear Hyunjin," he mocked with faux sincerity before an evil grin grew on his face, "so if this becomes boring blame him.”

Hyunjin looked like he was going to enter the recording booth and whack the two of you over the head with the rolled-up outline in his hand as his mouth was open in a muffled yell.

“Before Hyunjin takes us off the air, let’s answer some of your questions!” for the third time you tried to continue with what you were supposed to be doing. “This one’s from John. Hey (y/n) and Jeongin! There’s someone who I really like and I want to ask them out on a date. We’ve been getting dinner together, but I don’t think either of us really classify it as a date. It’s mostly been under the pretense of ‘I’m starving, you’re here, let’s go.’ How can I make that leap into asking them on a date versus a friendly get-together? Thanks for the help!” there was a pause of silence as the two of you tried to think of a response, “no offense John, but you’re asking the wrong people. I’ve never been on a date,” you side-eyed Hyunjin for him letting this question pass, “and Jeongin-”

“I’ve been in the same position.”

“What?” you shrieked and the three of you winced as you heard your loud voice through your headphones.

“Warning for headphone users.” Your dark-haired friend mumbled under his breath and took off his headphones to rub at his ear.

“Hold up, when was this?” you looked at Jeongin in bewilderment. The two of you were best friends, and this was a new development for you. You had never heard of Jeongin crushing after someone. Granted, you had only known each other for about 3 years, since the two of you started university, but with the number of late-night ramblings and how often the two of you are together, it could’ve come up.

Jeongin merely shrugged. “I totally understand you, John, it’s difficult, but here’s what I did.” You nodded your head to allow Jeongin to continue, seeing as you had no way to help. “It’s hard to tell from your letter, but how close are the two of you? I got closer and closer to the person who I liked. It developed from ‘hey you’re in the same class as me,’ to something more. It became late-night shenanigans, staying up late talking about anything and everything, watching movies, and of course, doing homework together. Though, to be real, we suck at doing homework when we’re together.” He added with a laugh.

There was a pleasant smile on his face as he reminisced this person, he looked genuinely at peace, and it surprised you. Whoever this person was, they made a big impact on Jeongin’s life. It was strange that you never heard of this person, besides, Jeongin seemed to have had some closure with this person. Did it end badly? Is that why you never knew of this enigma? But he looked so happy? It kind of hurt. This person was so pivotal in his life and yet he hid it all from you. Maybe you weren’t as close as you thought. “Half inch by half inch, we became closer.” There was a definitive look on his face as he gave a nod, seemingly happy with his answer.

You, on the other hand, were a little more unconvinced. That couldn’t be the end of the story. Maybe you were a little more miffed because this was news to you, or maybe the reporter in you was finally coming out and wanting to know the conclusion. Either way, there was a bit of an edge to your voice as you asked, “okay, so after how many ½ inches does it become a date?” you turned the conversation back to John’s question, “John seems to already be friends, he just wants to take this person on a date.”

Jeongin let out a scoff and rolled his eyes at you, “it’s not linear.”

There was a pause and when it seemed like Jeongin wasn’t going to speak up again, you continued your dubious proddings, “did you say you knew how to do this?” there was an offended shout from Jeongin and he kicked you from under the table to elicit a startled yelp from you.

“I hope none of our listeners are using headphones.” Jeongin shook his head in empathy, “because my ears burn.”

“You’re the one who kicked me!”

Jeongin childishly stuck his tongue out at you, “things will work out John. I’m sure the more you get to know them the more things will fall into place.” He reassured, though you weren’t feeling reassured, and you figured John probably wasn’t either.

“Did you ever ask your person out on a date?” you asked, still wanting to get closure for your story, seeing as Jeongin wasn’t keen on providing it.

His face reddened and you resisted the urge to crow teasingly at him, “not yet.” He mumbled into the mic, but it was loud enough for you to hear with your headphones.

You leaned back in your chair to get away from the mic and let out a screech, “you don’t know what you’re talking about either!”

“You were just going to write off John’s letter! I couldn’t let you do that.” He protested with his face still red and his gaze averted.

“Ask them out John!” you took matters into your hands seeing as Jeongin was clumsier with love than you were. Hyunjin sure picked the wrong question this time. “There’s no time like the present. Don’t twist one of your normal dinners into a date, specifically plan it. Ask them if they want to go on a date at some other time than what the two of you normally do. The worst that could happen is they say no.”

“That’s mortifying! I could never do that!” the aghast look on Jeongin’s face did little to make you feel guilty.

“That’s why you never asked out your person on a date.” The hurt look that fell on his face did though. “Oh no, I’m sorry.” The chaotic atmosphere that filled the recording booth stilled and you went over to hug your friend, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, you’re right.” He continued in a quiet voice, “I guess I got too scared to do anything, so I decided things were perfectly all right the way they were, even if I wish it was different.”

You smoothed his hair down absentmindedly from your awkward standing position and his sitting position, “relationships are scary. I think you, and John, are valid to be scared.”

“But you’re also right, there’s no time like the present.”

You let out a quiet laugh, “and in the end, neither of us was able to help John.”

“Maybe this will,” you pulled away from Jeongin in confusion so you could look at his face. There was a nervous look settled on his face and he refused to look anywhere close to you, “do you want to go on a date later?”

Your jaw probably dropped comically as you looked at him in bewilderment, “wait-are you-did you-?” did he ask what you think he did? Did he just ask you out? On-air? Was that buzzing in your ear from your headphones? Was this a setup from Hyunjin? Was Jeongin John? Somehow, even as your mind was racing a hundred miles a minute, the terrified look on Jeongin’s face was able to clear through the mess and register in your mind. You took a deep breath to stop your word vomit, “yeah.” You smiled, “let’s go on a date. Maybe a dinner date?”

The terrified look immediately washed away and was replaced with a relieved look, “that sounds great.”

Hyunjin’s yelling was so loud that the two of you could faintly hear him screaming, “finally!”

Masterlist

Context bonus: "After how many ½ inches does it become a date?” One of my female friends was trying to describe to one of my male friends dating, but none of us know how to date.

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kywaslost · 3 years

Text

How they help with sensory overload/panic/anxiety attack

Requests are open!

Warnings: mentions of sensory overload and panic/anxiety attacks, abuse

All of class 1-A were sitting in the common room, some watching a movie while others were talking loudly. Normally you would be joining in the chatter, talking about the day’s training and classes, even helping todoroki and some of the other students make dinner. But today was different. Your anxiety was through the roof. The past few days have been filled with tests and exams from all of your teachers. It was nearing finals as well, causing you to lose sleep so you could study. It didn’t help that you hadn’t slept in two days due to stress and anxiety and that you had to do one-on-one battles with your classmates that morning.

Right now you were silently following your boyfriend Bakugou around. He was going to go get a drink, getting up from his seat next to the bakusquad. You stood up and followed him, walking really close to his back.

“Hey,” Bakugou barked, not knowing it was you that was behind him. When he saw a glimpse of your hair and felt your head lean against his back, his face softened. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized under his breath. He turned and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “If you wanted a drink you could have just said so, I would get you one.” You leaned into his side and walked with him. The lights were getting really bright. The song changed, blasting in your opinion. You buried your head in Bakugou’s side to try to at least muffle the sound a little. He poured two cups of water and handed one to you. The two of you sat back down and you cuddled really close to the blond headed boy. After a few minutes you buried your head closer to him. Bakugou noticed and grew agitated.

“Oi,” he growled quietly. “What is your problem? Are you--” he noticed how you flinched away from his growing voice. He also noticed how you covered your eyes from the dim lights in the room. He sighed, setting down his cup of water. He pulled you to his lap and pressed your head to his chest. He covered your ears and shielded your eyes. The two of you stayed that way until Bakugou carried you to your dorm. He stayed with you until you fell asleep.

You had a lot in common with your father Shota Aizawa. You were quiet, always tired, but also very smart. You didn’t like loud noises and they scared you to be honest. If you didn’t get away from the noise or it didn’t go away you’d start to shake. The reason was understandable, of course. It was simple. When you were only six months old your mother was killed in a villian attack. As Aizawa fought the villain that killed your mother Present Mic saved you and got you out of harm’s way. Both you and Aizawa were devastated. As a fact, you were selectively mute. You would only talk to your father and Uncle Mic. That was far as it went.

Your friends never understood why you never spoke a word. You were in class 1-A under your father’s teaching. You had one friend going into that class and it was Izuku Midoriya. He was with you ever since the very first day of school when you were kids. He understood that you didn’t speak and would stand up for you when the other kids in class 1-A kept trying to get you to talk. It was several months into the school year and you were in Present Mic’s English class. He was naturally a loud person due to his quirk but he always tried to tone it down when you were in his class.

There were two doors in Present Mic’s classroom; one in the front and one in the back. You just so happened to sit next to the one in the back. At the moment Mic wasn’t really teaching. There were only ten minutes left of class and Mic decided to let the rest of the time be spent however the students wished. Right now the bakusquad were goofing off and laughing. The room was starting to get loud. You looked around the room, taking in all of the noise.

“Hey mute mouth!” You turned your head to the source of the yelling. Bakugou was sitting on top of a desk, staring at you. Your body started to tremble, becoming afraid of all the noise in the room. You slowly turned your head to the side as if asking him what he wanted. “What in the world is wrong with you?” By this time you could barely catch your breath. Your trembling got worse. Now the room was silent as everyone was looking at you.

“Y/N?” Present Mic called from his desk. “Are you alright?” You didn’t even spare him a look when you raced out the back door of the classroom and down the hall. It was empty, quiet since classes were still in session. You slowly slid down a wall to the floor, curling into a ball. You shook terribly, starting to scream and cry.

“Hey, kiddo, whoa you’re ok,” a voice said from beside you. “It’s me, Uncle Mic. Do you mind if I touch you?” You continued to scream as doors opened and teachers poked their heads out into the hall. When they saw Mic shooing them into their rooms with his hands they closed their doors and continued on with their classes. Mic slowly wrapped his arms around your shaking frame. He pulled you to him and rested his chin on your head.

“It’s ok kiddo,” he whispered uncharacteristically. “Just breathe ok?” He sat there with you until your screaming ceased and your breath was steady again. He smiled, “Hey, there we go!”

“Too loud,” you muttered. “Way too loud.”

“I know little eraser. I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep it quiet next time.”

When Kirishima first met Bakugou he never would have thought he would be dating the blonde boy’s sister. Your quirk was just like Bakugou’s only you shot ice explosions instead of fire and instead of sweating nitroglycerin, frost would coat your skin in very thin layers.

Kirishima always offered to help you with your quirk. While you could practice your attacks Kirishima could test his hardening skills. Another thing Kirishima did was understand you had bad anxiety. You never told your brother but when he was kidnapped, you were petrified. You loved him as much as you never admitted and you were afraid you wouldn’t see him again. That’s what made you transfer to the hero course at UA. You had the chance to keep an eye on your brother and learn how to save people from the very thing that happened to Bakugou.

You and Kirishima had just gotten back to the dorms from a sparring practice you two held after school. Once you had showered and eaten you two were in his room, relaxing. He was sitting at the desk in his room, scrolling through the internet on his computer. You were laying on his bed asleep. He looked across the room and smiled softly when he noticed you were cuddled up with one of his pillows. You were hidden by his blankets and warm in his hoodie as your face was buried in the pillow.

That’s adorable, Kirishima thought as he pulled his phone out and took a picture before he turned back to his computer. He sat in silence for a few moments when he heard very soft whimpering coming from his bed. It was almost inaudible, it was so silent.

“Baby?” the red head called softly. He turned back around to face the bed again, trying to see where the noise was coming from. He saw your sleeping form twitching from time to time, face plastered with looks of fear. Kirishima worriedly stood from his seat across the room and made his way over to you quickly. He sat beside you and rested his hand on your shoulder, turning you on your back. You continued to whimper and started to mutter.

“No,” you whispered. Kirishima pulled your back to his chest and held you there with one arm as his other hand ran though your hair calmingly.

“Hey,” he whispered. “It’s ok. You need to wake up ok?” Kirishima had to tighten his grip as you started to thrash around harder. You started to cry in your sleep, gripping the arm that was wrapped around you tightly. Kirishima continued to smooth your hair and whisper to you to wake you up.

You gasped through tears as your eyes shot open. Kirishma shushed you quietly, still attempting to calm you down. “Hey, it’s ok little rock. You’re alright.” You struggled to catch your breath, still shaking.

“Kiri!” you gasped, trying to pry the arms away from you. Kirishima picked up on what was going on and let go, sliding off the bed and kneeling so he was eye level with you.

“Oh,” he said quickly. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it would get this bad.” You sat up and pulled at the collar of Kirishima’s hoodie. He could see the panic in your eyes. “Hey, it’s ok. Do you want me to help you take that off?” You didn’t hear him, still pulling the fabric from your body. “I’m going to take that off ok?” Kirishima gently pulled the fabric from your hands and over your head, leaving you in your black t-shirt you had been wearing.

“Let’s calm your breathing little rock,” he said with a soft smile. “Can I hold your hand?” You nodded frantically as he gently took your right hand in his. He placed it to his chest. “Feel that? Feel my breathing? Try to match me ok?” It took ten minutes for him to get your breathing to slow.

“Is it ok if I hold you?” You nodded again as the red-head slid in beside you and pulled you into his lap. “You’re still shaking,” he muttered. “Do you want some water?” He pulled a bottle off the nightstand, opening it and handing it to you. He pressed it to your lips and tilted it so the cool liquid fell through your lips. You took a few sips before pulling away. You took a shaky breath and wrapped your arms around Kirishama’s waist. Kirishima pulled you close and held you tight until your shaking ceased.

“Do you feel any better?” the boy whispered quietly.

“Hmhm,” you hummed and buried your head in his chest. “Thank you Kiri.” You leaned up and pecked his lips. “I’m sorry.” Kirishima frowned, pulling your face to look at him.

“Don’t be sorry love,” he said softly. “You can’t control these things. I’d do this 100x over if it meant you would be ok in the end. I hope I don’t have to, because this isn’t good for you, but I will if I have to.” A tear fell from your eyes and Kirishima wiped it away. “Can you tell me what triggered this?” You looked away.

“I dreamed of Katsuki being kidnapped again.” Your voice was quiet. Kirishima rested his chin on your head.

“I’m sorry baby.”

Deku was the most observant person you had ever met. He noticed everything within a matter of seconds. This meant a lot to you. You were quiet by nature, only ever really talking to people you were close to. This included Midoriya, Todoroki, Bakugou, and Kirishima. You would exchange a few words with the rest of your classmates but that was as far as it went. Izuku always noticed when you were getting too anxious or tired. He knew how to calm you down and make you feel comfortable.

This was one of those days he had to use that knowledge. You were having a day with Todoroki, Iida, Ochako, and Deku. The five of you were walking through the mall, window shopping. It was more of a friends day than a shopping day since all you all did was talk with each other. You all were eating lunch in one of the many dining areas in the mall. It was nearing the busiest part of the day as the crowds of people grew and the noise got louder. This didn’t get past without you noticing. You started to flinch whenever a particularly loud noise came from the crowd.

“Are you alright Y/N?” Todoroki asked over his bowl of cold soba. “You look frightened.”

You shook your head and said quietly, “I’m fine.” Deku noticed this. He took your arm gently and pulled you to your feet.

“We’ll be back,” he said quickly, pulling you away from your friends and to a quiet, secluded part of the mall. He sat you down and sat beside you, wrapping his arms around you. “Hey,” he whispered quietly. “It’s too loud isn’t it?” You nodded as the boy pulled your head to his chest to try and hide you from the noise and light.

“The lights are too bright,” you whispered. Deku hid your face more.

“I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let Ochako drag you out here.”

“It’s fine.” The two of you sat like that until you calmed down. “Let’s go find the others,” you said as you sat up. As you made your way back to the table, Todoroki bumped into you.

“Oh, there you are,” he said as he steadied you. “Are you alright?” You nodded.

“I’m alright,” you whispered. “It was just getting too loud and bright.” The boy nodded as he walked with you and Deku, each of the boys having an arm wrapped around you.

When Shinsou started UA, he swore he wasn’t there to make friends. He kept true to his word, or at least until you showed up. You were accepted later in the year since the school sent you an invite once they noticed you would do well in their school. You were in class 1-C. Your quirk would do well in that class, but most of your classmates didn’t agree.

Your quirk was mental drawing, meaning you could draw what the people around you were thinking. Most of the kids in your class didn’t like your quirk; they thought it wasn’t fitting for a hero. This caused you to keep to yourself and not talk to anyone. This only added on to the torture.

You were sitting at your desk before English class as you doodled on a piece of scrap paper. You sat in the back corner of the class by the window. This way, you got the best lighting and the best view. You stared at your paper absentmindedly as your pencil slid across the paper. It started with small lines here and there but then developed into the shape of a person. You were working on the other eye when a group of classmates caught your attention.

“Hey mute girl!” someone called out. You looked up with shy eyes, hiding your face behind your hair. You turned your head to the side slightly, acknowledging their presence. There were three of them, all towering over your desk. The one in the middle ripped the paper from beneath your hand.

“Hey!” you said, reaching for the drawing. “Give that back!” The men laughed, hovering over the paper and pointing at certain spots, laughing even harder.

“This is your quirk?!” The one on your right laughed. “Seriously, this sucks.”

The one on the left spoke,” You’re never going to make it big here.”

“What’s your problem?” spat a voice from behind the boys. The three turned around.

“You!” they scoffed, laughing. Immediately, they fell silent and stiff. You looked around them to see Shinsou Hitoshi staring at them.

“Give the girl her paper back,” commanded the man. The boy with your drawing placed it back down on your desk. “Apologize.”

“We’re sorry,” the three said in a monotone voice. The man with purple hair smirked. “Now act like the chickens you are until class starts.” The three boys started clucking, running around the classroom. You giggled, watching them embarrass themselves. The man controlling them sat down at the desk beside you.

“Thank you,” you whispered to the man.

“Don’t mention it,” he grumbled. “They deserve everything they get.”

“You’re name’s Shinsou Hitoshi, right?” you asked quietly. He nodded, taken aback. He didn’t think you knew who he was.

“Yeah, and you’re Y/N? The new one?” he asked. You nodded.

“Yeah.” You sat in silence before you decided to speak again. “How did you manage to get into a class like this?” you asked. “You have the perfect quirk to be a-”

“Villain?” Shinsou spat. “You know what, I thought you were different. I guess not.”

You were confused. “No,” you stated. “I was going to say you had the quirk of a hero. You could do great things with a quirk like yours.” Shinsou gave you an amazed look.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He flashed you a small smile and class started.

You slowly packed up your belongings in the locker room. You just finished your last class of the day, gym. You were exhausted, ready to grab a cup of coffee and head back to your dorm. You grabbed your backpack and walked out of the locker room.

“Hey wait up!” You turned around to see Shinsou running up to you. He slowed down to match your pace. “Hey,” he smiled. You grinned slightly.

“Hello Shinsou. What’s got you in a good mood? You usually don’t talk to others,” you pointed out. Shinsou shrugged.

“You’re not like the others. So, got any plans?” you shook your head.

“Not really. I was going to go get a coffee then head back to the dorm to study for our upcoming exam,” you answered

“Mind if I join you?” Shinsou asked. Your smile brightened.

“Sure!”

The two of you sat in your dorm room, studying. Shinsou asked if he could join you in studying and you agreed. Right now he was reading through a textbook while you were flipping through your notes.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Shinsou started, catching your attention, “Can I see the drawing you were working on earlier?” You nodded shyly, leaning over to grab your sketchbook. You pulled out the loose piece of paper and handed it to the boy. He looked at it, amazed. “This is amazing!”

Your cheeks reddened as you hid behind your hair again. “Thanks,” you muttered. “It’s my quirk; I can draw what someone nearby is thinking,” you explained. Shinsou handed the paper back to you, accept his hand hovered near your head. He made eye contact with you before he brushed the hair from your face and behind your ear. He smiled before returning to his book. Silence fell between the two of you once again.

You and Shinsou became friends quickly. He’d walk with you back to the dorms after school and would even train with you from time to time. He understood that you were shy so he didn’t push you to do anything you didn’t want to. Month passed and it was time for break. You had invited Shinsou to come over one night to watch a movie, seeing as though you thought both your parents were working. He showed up in a pair of grey sweatpants and a purple hoodie. His hood was up when you answered the knock at the door.

“H-Hey Shinsou,” you greeted quietly. He smiled.

“Hello Y/N, may I come in?” you nodded, letting him in and leading him to the couch. There were several warm, fluffy blankets and pillows strewn over the couch.

“What movie would you like to watch?” you asked the boy. “I have so many dvd’s, Netflix, Hulu, and Disney+ so I’m pretty sure I could find almost everything.” Shinsou shrugged as he plopped down on the couch, pulling a few blankets out from under him. You started pacing, fumbling with the remote and flipping through the apps on the TV. You also started to ramble and list off the movies you noticed.

“Y/N-” Shinsou started with a small chuckle. “Y--Y/N.” He gently took your hand and pulled you down to sit beside him. Your face reddened as you returned the small smile Shinsou was giving you. “You need to calm down,” he laughed. “I know you're anxious and I understand. Why don’t you go get something to drink and I’ll look for a movie, ok?” You nodded as he smiled. He gently took the remote from your hand and you went to get a glass of water.

Shinsou could hear a door open and close from the back of the house. “Y/N?” he called out quietly. There was the sound of glass shattering and shouts coming from the kitchen. The boy ran as fast as he could to where you were. “Y/N!” He slid into the kitchen to see a man towering over your trembling body. Blood dripped from cuts on your head and glass shards surrounded you. The man was yelling at you, or at least he was until he saw Shinsou standing in the doorway. The man sneered back down at you, raising an arm above his head. In the blink of an eye Shinsou was standing over you, forcing your father’s hand away from you.

“What are you doing!?” Shinsou screamed angrily.

“Get out!” your father yelled. Shinsou activated his quirk.

“Leave,” he seethed. “Leave, and don’t come back.” The man turned and walked out of the door he had come through. Once Shinsou was sure the man was away from you, he turned around and dropped down by your side. You were hyperventilating and crying, freaked out. “Hey,” the boy said calmly. He attempted to reach out towards you but you flinched away from him. He frowned. “Ok,” he nodded. “I won’t touch you. Just try to calm down, ok?”

You continued to gasp, taking in much more air than you needed. “Look at me.” You looked up to see dark purple eyes filled with concern and kindness. He smiled softly when you listened. “There we go, that’s great. Now breathe with me, ok?” He took huge deep breaths, still looking into your eyes. After a few breaths you started to breath with him. You reached a hand out to him and he took it, squeezing it gently. You finally calmed down enough to speak.

“You should go,” you breathed, trying to stand. Shinsou pulled you back down so you were now sitting on his lap. He hugged you close to his chest before examining your head.

“I’m not leaving,” he stated. “And you’re bleeding. We need to get you looked at.” You started to panic again, shaking your head frantically.

You started to beg, “Please, no.” Tears streamed down your face and Shinsou wiped them away. “I can’t. They’ll take me away, please we can’t!” Shinsou rocked you back and forth.

“Ok,” he soothed. “Ok.”

Your teacher would never admit it but he cared deeply for his students. He would give his life 100x over if it meant his students would be alright in the end. He knew everything about his students; what they could do, what they couldn’t do, what they were afraid of, and what they were comfortable with. Aizawa was sure that his students could handle their own and would come to him if they ever needed them but there was one student he wasn’t too sure about. Y/N L/N. Aizawa knew that she had doubts about herself. He knew that she was always anxious and could get jumpy easily.

Today Aizawa was going to have his students present ways to help some of their classmates. Earlier in the week he had the class draw names and then they were to come up with ways to help the student they pulled out of a box with their quirk. It was your turn to present and you were starting to panic. 90% of the class had never even heard you speak.

“Y/N.” Aizawa spoke. “You’re up.” You took a deep breath before standing, walking up to the front of the class. You opened your mouth, attempting to speak, but no sound came from your mouth. You froze as your heart rate increased and your breath hitched. You shook your head, dropped your papers, and ran out of the classroom. Momo gasped.

“Do you-” she started but Aizawa cut her off.

“No.” The teacher followed his student out the door slowly. He roamed the halls as he looked for you.

You leaned against the wall, sitting on the cold tile floor. Tears brimmed your eyes as you took deep breaths to calm yourself. This wasn’t exactly the first time you’ve had to run out of class and later apologize to your teacher. You heard soft footsteps approach you and then someone sit down beside you.

“Are you alright?” you jumped slightly from the voice, still a little on edge. You looked to your side to see your teacher, Mr. Aizawa. You nodded, continuing to calm your breathing. Aizawa hesitantly wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry,” the teacher whispered. “I should’ve known something like this would have happened.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright.” Aizawa’s eyes widened and he smiled. You were talking to him. “I need to outgrow this sometime, right?”

“It’ll take time, but I’m willing to help in any way that I can.”

Hawks knew that when he married you that there were many things that triggered sensory overload and anxiety. That’s why he let you stay in his office at the agency during most of the work day. You would help him with paperwork and you’d schedule events for him. That’s what you liked about your husband. He knew what triggered you and did his best to keep you safe.

When you had attacks out of nowhere, Keigo was always there to talk you down. If you were comfortable with him touching you, he’d hold you close to him and whisper in your ear. If you didn’t want physical contact he’d just sit with you and try to bring your attention away from what was triggering you.

Today was just one of those days. The days where you didn’t feel like yourself and just felt off. Your anxiety was through the roof and you didn’t feel like leaving your bed. Hawks had left before you were awake, having a conference to attend to. He should be getting back to the agency about now, you thought as you lay motionless on the bed. You were supposed to be at the agency right now but you couldn’t find the will to get out of bed. Your attention moved to your buzzing phone on the nightstand. Hawks. You let it ring as you continued to lay there.

“Honey, I’m home!” Hawks called as he walked into the apartment you both shared. “Are you alright? You haven’t answered any of my calls and you weren’t at work.” He roamed the house, looking for you. He pushed open the door to the bedroom and saw your shaking form on the bed. He rushed over. “Baby, are you alright?” You didn’t answer as he pulled the blanket away from your face. He frowned. “Honey you’re having an attack. Can I touch you?” You nodded through your fear as Hawks swiftly picked you up and sat you in his lap. He shushed you quietly. “Breathe with me, ok?” Minutes passed as you struggled to come back down to earth and breathe.

“It’s one of those days, isn’t it?” Hawks asked quietly. You nodded as your eyes drooped. These attacks always drained the energy right out of you. “Why don’t we take a nap?” You looked up and pecked Hawks’ lips before nuzzling further into his chest.

“That sounds nice.”

Having dealt with quite a few of these himself, Shoto understood that you wanted space when attacks hit you. These attacks came out of nowhere, most of the time when you were relaxing with your boyfriend. The two of you were cuddling on his bed, sitting in silence. You were curled up against Todoroki’s side, half asleep. The boy rested his cheek on your head as he read the book in his hands. Todoroki knew that you were having a particularly hard day. You were much more shy than you usually were and you clung to Todoroki for most of the day, not that he didn’t mind though. You usually only did that when your anxiety was worse than usual.

“Hard day?” he whispered to your half-conscious form. You hummed in response. “Anxiety?” You nodded. Todoroki pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Do you want to talk about it?” You opened your eyes, staring off in front of you. Your breath was still shaky, but it had been that way all day so you were used to it.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you muttered. “I just woke up and felt anxious.” Todoroki could hear the tremble in your voice and wrapped an arm around you.

“Why don’t I make you that tea that always helps you calm down?” he offered. “Then we can take a nap, maybe even watch a movie.” You nodded.

“Thank you.” Todoroki returned to his dorm room about ten minutes later with a cup of steaming tea. He set it down on the nightstand when he saw your sleeping form on his bed. He knew he should let you sleep but the tea he brought he knew would calm you down. He slowly lowered himself to lay down beside you, running his hand over your arm.

“Y/N,” he said softly and planted a kiss above your ear. “Wake up darling. I’m back.” You stirred and sat up. Todoroki handed you the cup of tea and pulled you to lean against him. The two of you stayed like that until you finished your tea. Once Todoroki placed the cup back on the shelf beside the bed, he laid the both of you down. “Better?” he asked and you nodded.

“Better.”

The boy always had a lot of energy due to his quirk. Denki was loud and always excited, which is why you two got along so easily. There were countless nights when you and Denki would stay up late playing video games together until breakfast the next morning.

You were trying to set up one of the gaming systems as Denki walked into his dorm room, arms filled with snacks and drinks.

“Ready sweetpea?” Denki beamed. “How late are we gonna play today?”

You giggled at his sweet greeting. “I don’t know. My best guess is that we’ll lose track of time and end up falling asleep in class again.” Denki laughed. You sighed and moved to sit on your feet. “Can you help me Denki? I have no clue what I’m doing.” The boy nodded.

“Of course baby bolt,” he smiled. “Here, look.” He started to plug in certain cords and wires. He moved to pat your shoulder but sent sparks through your body. You twitched, wincing. Denki was taken aback before he launched forward and hugged you. “I’m so sorry!” he cried. “I didn’t mean to!” You laughed.

“It’s alright Denki, I’m alright.”

You played video games for about twenty minutes before you put your controller down and squeezed your eyes shut. “You alright chickadee?” Denki asked from his spot beside you. His voice wasn’t that loud, but it was like a bell ringing in your head.

“Please keep your voice down,” you whimpered. Denki scooted over to you, pulling you into a hug.

“Sensory overload,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. I caused this when I shocked you earlier.” The boy continued to shield your eyes and stay quiet until you made it clear you were ok.

“Can we just go to sleep?” you asked quietly. Denki nodded.

“Of course baby bolt, if it’ll help at all.”

402 notes · View notes

deeplydesiredimagines · 3 years

Note

Can you write a Present Mic x trans male reader where the reader rides him in his studio while he's on air 👉👈 thank you

♡ Pairing: Present Mic (Hizashi Yamada) x Trans Male Reader

♡ Word Count: 1.1k

♡ Rating: Mature, 18+

♡ Warning(s): public sex, almost caught, creampie

Rules ♡ Fandoms ♡ Requests ♡ Ko-Fi

A/N: Of course I can, my love! ♡ Present Mic is actually one of my favorite pros to write for so this was super fun! Don’t forget to like and reblog pwease :#> ♡

“Ngh… Superstar…” Hizashi muttered against the gloved hand he was holding over his mouth. He leaned back against the hardwood door of his dressing room, your body pressed against his, your lips pressed against his neck. Hizashi was weak to your temptations, you knew that as well as he did, and that was exactly why you were taking advantage of Hizashi in such a delicate, time sensitive position. You did not want him to go on, you were feeling a little possessive of your radio host. It was no secret you were needy, and you knew damn well he was also needy, you could feel him pressing between your legs with his dick. “Stay,” you whispered against his sensitive neck, feeling Hizashi shudder at the sensation of your warm breath on his neck.

“The show is about to start, I have to go on,” Hizashi muttered, grabbing your hip with one of his very strong hands, the other grabbing onto your chin. “Don’t worry, I always have a plan, superstar,” he tilted his head down, his glasses sliding down his nose as he winked at you. He walked you backwards, using his strength over you to press you against the wall, your back arching slightly when you hit the hard surface. Hizashi grinned in a very coy manner, like he had an idea brewing in his mind. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours much rougher than you were expecting. You really must have riled him up~

Hizashi’s tongue pressed through the barrier of your lips and into your mouth, his tongue piercing rubbing against your tongue, only for a few seconds before he pulled back. He looked you up and down, looking at your red face and how cute it was when your breathing was all heavy from how riled up you were. He reached his hand down, rubbing you between your legs, he could tell you were soaked and how hard you were, it was an immediate turn on and it made his cock throb in anticipation. Hizashi’s hand slid away before he gestured towards the door with his head, opening the door up and walking out of the room.

The door was connected to the studio, it was a small place Hizashi rented out, he manned all of the controls for the most part. He walked over to his seat and slid into his chair, scooting back a little as he adjusted his microphone and put his headphones on. You could not help but stare, Hizashi was sexy, there was no doubt about it, but staring at his large bulge in those tight leather pants, just begging for attention. Well. It did something to you. It made you throb and it made your mind buzzy, all you could think about was his dick and how you wanted it inside of you. Immediately, you walked over to Hizashi as he was turning on his live broadcast. There was no way he could stop you now. You unzipped his leather pants, watching his cock spring out, standing tall with the slightest dribble of precum decorating the tip of his hard-on.

“GOOOOOOOOD EVENING OUT THERE TO ALL MY RISING STARS!” Hizashi started, trying to ignore how you were sliding your pants off beside him while holding his cock. He was throbbing from the attention, trying to control any noises and his breathing while focusing on his show. “Today is a very special day, it is the anniversary of the famous incident that started it all— the day All Might saved all those civilians!” You slid under Hizashi’s arms, grabbing onto his shoulders as you positioned yourself over him. You slid down onto his rock hard cock, leaning your face into his neck and biting down on his tanned skin to stop yourself from making any noise. You hoped that the microphone was not picking up how your wet hole made a clicking noise as you slid down Hizashi until you bottomed out.

Hizashi’s mouth opened and his head leaned back, his eyes closing as his hand moved onto your hip as you started to slowly rock your hips against his. “Oh yeah…” Hizashi muttered quickly as he lifted his hips up, pushing himself deeper into you before he remembered he was working. His eyes widened and his body tensed, holding himself deep in you as you started to bounce against him. He had to quickly recover. “OH YEAH!” you were bouncing on him faster while he was trying to regain his control. “LISTENERS! I have a special treat for you all!” Hizashi pulled his mouth away from the microphone to let out a heavy breath, looking at you with lidded eyes. He was always so noisy. It must have been so hard for him to not make any obvious noises~ good~

Hizashi saw the smug look in your eyes and bit his tongue, rolling his hips up into you while lowering the volume on his radio. “We have a playlist specially picked out and curated by All Might himself! And you, my RADICAL listeners, get to EXCLUSIVELY HEAR IT!!!” Mic yelled into the microphone while he began to move his hips up into you faster, watching you bounce on his lap from the reflection of the windows in his studio. You bit into his neck harder, but the clicking sound from just how wet you were was filling the room and you were trying your hardest to muffle your moans in desperation that the mic did not pick them up. It did not help that you could feel Hizashi throbbing and your own orgasm starting to come.

“I’m…. CUMMING AT YOU RIGHT NOW WITH THE MOST EXCLUSIVE ALL MIGHT MUSIC CONTENT YOU’VE EVER HEARD!” Hizashi bit his thumb in response to almost slipping on live radio. He slammed his hips up into you and opened his mouth as he let out a loud sigh as your hips bounced up and down faster on him. His hips twitched and his hips jerked, the chair squeaking under him and his headphones fell off of his head, landing around his neck as his eyes closed. A warm sensation began to fill your stomach as Hizashi started to cum inside of you. Immediately, your hips jerked and your head bobbed around, your own orgasm hitting your body harder than it ever had before. A louder noise escaped your and Hizashi covered your mouth with his gloved hand, leaning in closer to the microphone. “Coming to you, live on air, All Might’s playlist!” he said before flicking the microphone off and pressing a button that started the music.

“Naughty boy, I hope no one heard you moaning live on air~ now, be my good little show stopper and show your host how you ride the newest trends— me.”

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nonbinarytoga · 4 years

Text

Radioactive Izuku au from @polarspaz au that they’ve allowed me to write (I asked on anon but it was me dw). Please support them and their art!

Title: 200,000 Rads

Chapter 1: Chance Encounter

Word Count: 2,852

"I'll be back soon, Mom," Izuku called weakly as he peeked into his mother's bedroom. She was curled up in her futon, her face a bright red as she sweated through her fever. Izuku clutched his mother's wallet in his hands nervously, inching towards the front door. He almost wished that his mother would get up, that her fever would magically be cured and that he wouldn't have to leave the safe haven he called home.

But his mother remained still, her eyes bleary with sickness. Izuku licked his lips, tasting the sour tang of radiation on his tastebuds and swallowed roughly. He steeled himself and turned around, walking to the front door and yanking it open before his anxiety could make him stop.

He stood, breathless, in the doorway for a couple of seconds as terror climbed up his throat. Spit pooled into his mouth, the taste of radiation filling his senses, almost choking him on the cloying taste. He swallowed harshly, wincing at the taste. Later, he would have to use a few rounds of mouthwash to clear him of the taste.

He wanted nothing more than to turn back around and hide under his covers. No! His mother was counting on him! It was an easy task, he just had to get some medicine, some cold compresses, and then he could come home! He slowly stepped out of their little apartment door, closed it and locked it behind him and then stepped out into the world.

It had been a little while since he had been outside since he was exposed to everyone out in the open. It was terrifying. He shuffled through, his hands stuffed into his pockets with little to no skin showing as he slithered down the hallway and towards the street. It was later in the day, most people were either getting home from work and school or just going out to enjoy the coming night.

Izuku quickly made his way down the road, practically running down the sidewalk and further into the city. He could feel people looking at him from all over, probably confused as to why he was wearing such heavy clothing. A heavy and cushioned jacket with a fur-coated hood, thick ski goggles, a pair of black sweatpants, black boots, and a face mask to top it off. People shuffled away from him, clearing the area as he trudged through. There were some people who had lived in the area long enough to know who he was. They didn't know too much about him, just that he was the daughter of Inko and had some sort of terrible quirk.

People who Izuku used to see daily when he was young sent him small nods or waves, but they knew that Izuku wouldn't respond. Izuku didn't have time for them anyway, and it was better to get in and get out without getting too attached to them. The memories of the person that he was before his quirk were hazy, but he could remember enough. They were incredibly bittersweet, but the deeper he went the more horrific the memories became.

Izuku slowed down to a jog as he reached the store, pushing open the door and slipping inside. There weren't many people inside the store, thankfully, and Izuku found himself quietly searching the shelves with pursed lips. Searching them with a critical eye, his fingers brushed up against boxes and bottles of medical supplies. The hum of some pop song on the radio had Izuku softly tapping his toe against the tile as he reached for the box of fever medicine for his mother.

As his fingers touched the box, another hand brushed against his. He squeaked and flinched back, startled as he looked up to see who had touched him. A tall blonde man with startling green eyes looked down at him. His hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and he had a thin mustache that was separated into two halves on his upper lip.

"Oops! Sorry 'bout that, little listener!" Present Mic chirped, "go ahead."

"A-ah, no," Izuku flushed, waving his hands around in a nervous twitch, "please, take it, um, Mr. Present Mic."

Present Mic snorted, "please, Mr.Present Mic was my father. Just call me Mic, okay?" He grinned, "and I mean it. You look a little under the weather yourself," he gave Izuku an easygoing smile and handed him the box of medicine, "next time, though, how about you go out before you get sick, yeah?"

"M-me? But I'm not," Izuku trailed off, realizing that Mic thought that he was the one who was sick. He nodded instead of explaining himself, "yes, thank you very much!" He gave Mic a low bow and shuffled away, leaving Mic to get whatever else he needed to get.

Behind his mask, a giddy smile rose onto Izuku's face. He met a pro hero! Present Mic was one of his all-time favourite heroes, with his incredibly popular radio show and incredibly kind demeanour, it was no wonder why so many people took a liking towards him and Izuku was no different.

Oh, Mom was gonna be so jealous once she heard! Izuku was practically squealing with delight, but he kept it in long enough to get to the front counter. A teen looking to be a few years older than Izuku stood there, chewing quietly on a piece of gum and looking at him with a blank face. She scanned his items, he paid, and then he was out of there.

His high from meeting Present Mic was still coiling within his chest, so much so that he decided to go on a small walk before he went home. He grinned behind his mask, knowing that his mother would be incredibly proud of him for getting out. He had become a bit of a home-body since the accident.

He hummed quietly to himself as he walked the streets, taking in the fresh night air. He felt lighter than usual. Happier since one of his long-time idols. As he strolled deeper into the city, however, the sound of a battle reached his ears. His legs began to move on their own, an aching curiosity curling in his chest as he speed-walked over to where the noise was coming from.

He peeked around the corner and then flinched back with a gasp.

Izuku's throat felt like it was closing up. He was pushed against the cold wall of a dark alleyway, staring into the heart of a battlefield. Three people took up the dim area, two boys who looked to be around Izuku's age and one adult that even the dumbest person could point out to be Stain. The Hero Killer. Izuku gripped the grocery bag he had picked up for his mother, watching with bated breath as the villain spouted some sort of nonsense about hating heroes and how those at UA were choosing to become corrupt.

"You hero students are all the same!" Stain hissed, wielding his dual swords as he slashed at the two students with reckless abandon, "you follow All Might blindly and never think about those who have been hurt by heroes!"

Izuku slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a yelp as Stain's sword slashed against the boy with two-toned hair. Blood splattered on the dark pavement as the boy lept away, throwing out his arm to send a sheet of ice towards Stain that the villain easily dodged. His long tongue flicked out to lave at the sharp metal and the boy dropped like a rock. Izuku started to tremble in horror, tears building in his eyes that glowed an eerie green. He was going to die! Stain was going to kill him!

"You almost killed my brother!" The other boy, dressed in a sort of knights outfit, roared as he sprinted for Stain, "I won't let you kill my friends!" He grabbed at Stain, flinging him against the wall and slamming his arms into Stain's chest to pin him. The force made rubble tumble lazily off of the roof of the building, missing the fighting men by a few feet.

Stain cackled from where he was pinned, giddy as can be, "you're his brat brother, eh?" He hissed, one hand still gripping his main sword tightly, "how lovely it will be, taking down TWO Indegniums in such a short period of time!"

He raised his sword and brought it down, catching the tender skin that was exposed between panels of metal, spraying more blood into the air. Stain's tongue lashed out and lapped up the blood, causing the boy to slump uselessly to the ground. Stain laughed again, kicking the boy harshly in the side where he was unguarded.

"How pathetic," he spat, "you'll be fun to kill, you wanna-be hero." He raised his sword, taking it in two hands and resting it above where Indegnium's heart was, lifted up and-

"NO!" Izuku shouted, throwing off his puffy jacket and knocking Stain off of Indegnium, sending the two of them sprawling onto the ground. Stain recovered faster than Izuku could, snarling in fury.

"Who the hell are you, kid?" Stain spat, raising his sword, "another hero brat?! My lucky day!"

Izuku scrambled back, letting out a terrified squeak as Stain's sword came down. A searing pain curled on his face and he screamed, his hands flying up to his face. Blood poured messily down his face, getting into his mouth and soaking into his clothes. Izuku looked through the blood and his tears to see Stain standing still above him, staring at his sword. Izuku's blood caked his sword and was glowing horrible neon green.

"Interesting," Stain growled, sticking out his tongue to lick over the blood.

"No, don't!" Izuku yelled, "it's not safe!"

It was too late, Stain's tongue curled over Izuku's blood. Izuku wilted, slumping against the ground. He could see Stain, unable to move his head and watched in horror as Stain's face fell. Literally.

Stain howled in pain, gripping at his face and dropping his weapon as his face began to melt off. His tongue, long and slick, began to char and fell off in a meaty clump as Izuku's blood coursed through his face. Stain's skin sloughed off like wet newspaper, his blood and muscles twitching as they boiled from the strength of Izuku's radiation. Izuku gagged at the sight, his breath picking up quickly as his own blood slowly crawled over the ground, shining like paint under blacklight. It crawled sluggishly across, most of it soaking into Izuku's clothes, burning larges holes into his shirt and pants, while Stain gurgled messily on his own blood.

Stain was still screaming as he went down, his eyes starting to melt right out of his head. They rolled out of his head and splattered on the ground like pudding while more blood gushed from his wounds. His nose, or what was left of it, melted away to expose blood. His cheeks started to burn off, the smell of scorched flesh filling the air as more muscle and skin melted away, his teeth literally falling out of his head and falling to the ground like mints.

Izuku was crying, wailing out into the night to match Stain's own gargled howls of agony until the radiation reached his throat and melted away his vocal cords. Stain gave a few more chokes, and then vomited and in a horrifying display of regurgitation, vomited up his own stomach. Izuku closed his eyes tight as feeling slow came back to him as Stain finally died. He scrambled up, unable to get up past his knees as he gagged and vomited up his dinner. He coughed loudly, openly sobbing and wailing both in pain in terror.

He could hear police sirens getting closer as he started to pant, his breath coming in faster and faster until he was barely breathing at all. A hand touched his back and Izuku howled, scrambling up and away from whoever touched him only to fall onto his ass. Looking up, one of the boys who had been fighting Stain stood above him, staring at him with open eyes in shock. He took a step forward and Izuku scooted back, uncaring that he was smearing around his own sick and radiation, shaking his head.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't get close to me!" He shouted hoarsely, "please! I-I can't hurt anyone else, please!"

The boy paused and took a few steps back, blinking a few times and shaking his head as if to clear away whatever he was thinking. He returned to his partner and began to tend to his wounds with a medical kid strapped to his side. Izuku sobbed quietly as he pressed up to the wall, covering his face with his hands and shaking.

The sirens got louder and louder until the skid of tires on the pavement reached their location. The sound of multiple pairs of footsteps made Izuku looked up, and he melted when he saw who was there. Some police officers, a man in a long tan coat, and the pro heroes Thirteen and Present Mic.

Present Mic was speaking in low tones to the man in the tan coat but went silent when he saw Izuku. His face dropped, his eyes flickering over the scene of gore that surrounded and covered Izuku, and then to the radioactively green sludge that covered him. He took a step forward, but Thirteen beat him to it.

"Stay here," they said firmly, patting Present Mic's chest. They stepped forward and crouched down in front of Izuku, putting their palms out in a placating motion. "You're safe now," they said softly, "are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

Izuku coughed, wiping the blood away from his mouth and shook his head, "J-just my face," he stammered, "I, um, my quirk," he sniffled, hands shaking in fear.

Thirteen hummed and nodded slowly, "what is this stuff made out of?" They motioned towards Izuku's blood on the floor.

"It's radioactive," Izuku replied, "don't touch it. It," he looked towards Stain's body which was little more than a clump of flesh and bones on the ground. Looking at it had him bursting into tears once more, molten green trailing down his cheeks as he began to wail.

Thirteen was quiet, and then carefully grasped Izuku's hands to pull them towards their own, "it's going to be okay," they said, "you're not in trouble. I'm pretty sure I can clean stuff up, but then we need to get you to UA. Who's your doctor?"

Izuku whimpered, throwing himself into Thirteen's arms and crying quietly. The hero rubbed his back in slow circles in a soothing manner. As Izuku's tears began to dry, he noticed that Present Mic was inching closer to them. Thirteen noticed as well, they sighed and waved him over quietly.

Izuku told her the name of the agency that the Hero Commission assigned to him when he was born, as well as the name of his personal doctor while Thirteen uncapped one of their fingers and sucked up the radioactive sludge on the ground, sans the stuff that used to be Stain.

"What's your quirk, dear?" Thirteen asked as they capped their finger, allowing the EMT's and other heroes to approach while a separate group attended to the two UA students. Izuku sniffled, wiping his clothes with his bright green blood and tears.

"Radiation," he replied in a croaky voice, "it comes out when I get stressed."

Thirteen nodded their head, turning to Present Mic who had been put into a radiation suit just in case, his hair making his head lumpy underneath the bright yellow suit. He squatted down in front of Izuku, looking at him through the face shield.

"It was very brave of what you did, little listener," Present Mic said seriously, "you saved Shouto and Indegnium's lives tonight-if you weren't here they could have been seriously injured or worse."

Izuku nodded, flinching when one of the EMT's tried to touch his face, "those bandages won't work," he croaked, "you have to use the special ones."

The EMT looked a little irked but pulled away all the same. Thirteen gently massaged at Izuku's shoulder, their touch was grounding to Izuku.

"We have to take you to UA," they said, "so your doctor can patch you up. Eraserhead will be there and he can stop your quirk. Is that alright with you?"

"That's fine," Izuku said softly, and with Thirteen's help, he slowly got to his feet. His body felt numb and shaky as he followed the two heroes out of the alleyway and towards a familiar vehicle. It was a circular pod with a radiation symbol on the front, strapped to a truck. Izuku broke away from the heroes and climbed into the pod without fuss, looking out the thick glass windows as the pod lit up green with his light. He closed his eyes and leant his head against the warm metal as his radiation warmed it up, and wished he was at home.

#writing #z's writing #bnha #mha #Izuku midoriya #deku

428 notes · View notes

flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 4 years

Text

Suit Up

Summary: Tony wearing the suit just really does it for ya...and he’s noticed.

Characters: Tony Stark x female reader

Words: 3,154

Author’s Note: Yea, that’s right, I fell down the Marvel hole. I tried to avoid it as long as I could, but in the end, I had to admit defeat.

Warnings: explicit smut, explicit language, uh...is suit porn a warning?

The coffee machine gurgled as you stood at the mansion’s vast kitchen counter, eyes glued on the wall-mounted TV screen. The newscaster was debriefing viewers on Iron Man’s latest victory, how he had saved dozens from an armed-robbery hostage situation at one of the largest banks in the city. Everyone had gotten out safely, the bad guys were all in cuffs, and the news outlets had a breaking story to keep them busy for the day. Adoring fans took turns gushing into the journalist’s mic about the famed superhero, making the side of your lips quirk up a bit in pride.

The moment was then ruined by a high-pitched whooshing sound overhead, signaling Tony’s return. You winced at the chaotic bang of him crashing through walls and falling down into the lab, followed by muffled yelling and cursing.

“Every single time,” you muttered with a shake of your head, not even wanting to know what expensive piece of equipment he had probably just destroyed with his graceful landing.

Grabbing two mugs out of the cupboard, you took your time filling them with the freshly brewed coffee and adding the appropriate amounts of cream and sugar to each one. Taking a deep breath, you picked up the cups and reluctantly headed downstairs to assess the damage.

Sure enough, the debris was still settling, clouds of freshly-startled dust particles floating through the air as you descended the steps. Tony was currently out of view, but you could hear the heavy metal footsteps of the suit as he strode around while barking orders to FRIDAY.

You and Tony had been dating for a while now, and the past few months had found you spending more nights here with him, rather than at your own apartment. No one had been more shocked by the relationship than you, especially since your initial assessment of the older and richer man was that he was well-aware of, and confident in, his place in the world. A man who knew his own worth and...oh, to heck with sugar coating it. You had initially thought he was a prime asshole, with a capital A.

It wasn’t until your social circles kept throwing you into each other’s paths that you started to learn about the man beyond the narcissistic exterior. Sure, he was eccentric and an arrogant jerk at times, but he was also attentive and caring when he wanted to be. Once he realized you weren’t sticking around for his money or to grace his bed for a night or two, he showcased a loving side of himself behind closed doors that the rest of the world wouldn’t guess existed.

And the sex. Dear god, the sex! Your breath sped up a bit just thinking about last night’s escapades, at how he had edged you until you were a begging, writhing mess beneath him, before sending you over the cliff and making you come again and again...and again.

He had quickly awakened a side of you that had previously lain dormant, making it his personal mission to discover all your secret fantasies and make them a glorious reality. Tony was a kinky motherfucker, and as it turned out, so were you. And yet, there was still one fantasy that you had hidden from him, one you tried to keep buried way down deep and struggled not to let show.

At the bottom of the stairs, you passed through his extensive security measures and stepped into the gigantic lab, rounding a corner towards the sound of grumbling. Tony turned around at the sound of your approach, still fully encased in the suit. The coffee cups almost fell out of your hand when the aforementioned hidden fantasy locked glowing eyes on you from across the room. Legs now quivering, you continued into the lab and shakily set the mugs down onto a nearby workstation.

Oh, had you forgotten to mention? Yea, the suit was your fantasy.

More precisely, Tony in the suit was your fantasy. You weren’t sure when exactly this kink had started, but you had been strangely attracted to him wearing the Iron Man suit for a while now, and didn’t know how to make it go away.

Part of the appeal was the psychological symbol of all it stood for: peace and safety for those who hadn’t previously known such luxuries. There was so much power in that symbol, not to mention the physical prowess Tony had while wearing it. The virtually-indestructible superhero strength alone was enough to make your panties wet.

Then there was the design of the suit itself. Sleek, strong lines of metal that were shaped into the form of a man, yet also...it was just not human enough to make you shiver in a way that had utterly shocked you the first time it happened. The robotic mask with its stern-set mouth and glowing eyes sent a tingle of fear down your spine whenever they focused in your direction, but the fact that you knew it was Tony under there also gave that fear and intimidation an edge of desire. And it wasn’t just the aesthetic of the suit that attracted you, but how Tony acted when buried within its grasp. He strode with arrogant claim into whatever arena he wore it, the power and confidence he exuded plain for all to see. And whether from the suit itself or the result of the authority he claimed while wearing it, the glistening gold mask also projected a slightly deeper, grittier version of his typical voice, one that could have you flat on your back and begging within seconds.

That same voice was now speaking in your direction, causing sweat to form on the back of your neck...and was followed by the snap of metal fingers inches from your face, jolting you out of the daydream you had been slipping into. Shit! You realized that he had been trying to get your attention for God knows how long, while you stood there practically drooling on yourself while fantasizing about him.

Real smooth, you have the ‘keep this fantasy to yourself’ routine down so well, you internally admonished.

Clearing your throat and wiping sweaty palms down denim-clad hips, you asked, “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Trying to act unaffected, you gave Tony what was hopefully a calm smile.

“I asked if that was coffee,” he said, the suit staring at you so intensely that it almost made your brain go offline again.

“Yep, sure is!” you responded with an unnecessary amount of exuberance, mentally kicking your ass all over the lab for acting like a fool.

He stalked over to the workstation to pick up a mug, and you couldn’t prevent the loud inhale, body frozen to attention, as he strode closer until he was well within your personal space. The mask fell away long enough for him to lift the coffee cup and take a sip, and in that moment, he locked eyes onto you with a knowing gleam, before the mask closed back up and he returned the mug to the table.

He knew.

Needing to get out of there, to get far enough away to calm your racing heart and panting breaths, you turned and started speed walking towards the staircase. You barely made it two steps before an unyielding metal hand wrapped around your bicep and twirled you back into the suit’s massive form. Pushing your free hand against the sleek chest of alloy was futile, as Tony herded you backwards until your lower back bumped up against the workstation.

Goosebumps broke out along your arms when he leaned down, that glowing gaze inches from your face. Unable to stand their intensity, you closed your own eyes tight, a whimper escaping parted lips when a thick metal thigh pushed between your legs, effectively pinning you in place. Then that voice came from right above you, offering the choice of ecstasy or escape.

“Do you want me to stop?”

The logical part of your brain screamed at you to say yes, to get the hell out of there before this went too far down a path from which you couldn’t retreat. But the other part...the one that had touched yourself to the fantasy of this very scenario more times than you cared to admit...that part was begging you to give in.

Suddenly, strong fingers gripped your chin and jerked it upwards, startling your eyes into flying open and locking onto that captivating gaze.

“I asked a question, sweetheart. Now, use your words and give me an answer.”

Licking dry lips, you stared up at him in fascinated arousal and whispered, “No.”

Head tilting slightly to the side, the grip on your chin didn’t let up. “Sorry, I don’t think I heard you properly. Try again.”

“N-no,” you said, voice louder but still shaky. “Don’t stop.”

As if that was all he needed to let loose, the hand at your chin fell down to join the other at your hips, fingers bunching into the hem of your shirt and jerking it up over your head. He didn’t even bother to unhook your bra, just used the suit’s strength to rip it right down the front and toss it to the side. You moaned at the sensation of your nipples pebbling into tight points against the smooth red and gold chest, his unyielding thigh still pressing up against the crotch of your jeans.

You yelped in surprise when one of his large arms swept out behind you, knocking both the coffee cups and assorted bits of lab equipment off the workstation. You barely registered the sound of breaking glass, head spinning when he lifted you up on the edge of the flat surface as if you weighed less than a feather. Leaning back onto slightly unsteady hands, you watched as he flicked the button of your jeans open and jerked them down your thighs, followed quickly by your panties being torn off, leaving you naked before him.

There were so many unique sensations, coupled with the knowledge that one of your wettest fantasies was about to come true, that your body felt overloaded to the point where you were already squirming restlessly and on the verge of begging. He groaned at the sight, powerful fingers gliding down your waist and suddenly squeezing into your hip so tightly that you gasped at the pain. “Careful,” you whispered.

The fingers lessened, but only by a hair. “I wouldn’t hurt you, sweetheart. At least-” He cocked his head consideringly, “-not more than you’d enjoy.”

At that, the cool metal fingers drifted down so that both hands grabbed your ass roughly, making you groan and jolt forward as he stepped fully between your thighs and pulled you in against him. The length of him towered above you, both overwhelming and arousing in its reminder of how helpless you were against him...of how much you wanted to be taken.

The fingers of one hand glided up the front of your stomach, their surface so smooth compared to Tony’s rough, work-calloused hands. They circled your breast lovingly for a few moments before changing pace and pinching your nipple hard enough to make you whine. The entire time those slitted, glowing eyes fixed intently on your face, measuring your reaction to each touch.

A sudden cry broke from your throat at the shocking feel of cool metal between your thighs, his other hand palming your cunt before dipping a finger inside and giving a few experimental strokes. Your head fell back between your shoulders at the deliciously taboo feel of him adding a second thick finger, thighs widening and hips arching upwards with invitation. He fucked you steadily, obscene noises emerging from both your mouth and cunt as his fingers scissored to stretch you out in preparation for his cock.

You groaned in disappointment when the fingers slipped away just as your orgasm was building to a peak. Your head lifted to voice a protest that quickly died, eyes widening when you caught sight of the large metal erection that was now hanging between the suit’s legs. Licking suddenly dry lips, you stared at the thick appendage in awe and said, “I don’t remember that being a feature of the suit.”

He pulled you down the table until your ass hung off the edge, supported only by his hands. “It’s a new edition I added, just for you.”

Your face must’ve showcased your thoughts, because he gave a dark chuckle that caused an answering pulse in your cunt. “Oh honey, did you really think I haven’t noticed how wet you get for Iron Man?”

You should’ve felt embarrassed, should’ve given some sassy retort. Instead, you gave an undignified whimper and arched instinctively into him when the stiff tip of his metal cock bumped into your clit before lining up at your dripping entrance.

Your mesmerized gaze was transfixed on the sight of him entering you, hands coming up to grip at the unyielding shoulders for stability as he opened you up with slow, steady thrusts. Gasping at the initial contrast of cool metal invading wet heat, your flesh quickly warmed him up and adjusted to the unyielding shape. He was buried so deep that you almost couldn’t breathe, making you feel utterly dominated by his large form.

Clenching your hip with one hand, he braced the other one flat on the table before drawing his hips back, cock sliding slowly out before a quick snap of his hips slammed it back in. The movement was unexpectedly intense, Tony having underestimated the suit’s thrusting power, and you cried out at the burst of pain-edged pleasure. He immediately froze, so attuned to your body after months of learning what each noise and response meant to know that he had pushed a bit close to your limits.

“Shit, sorry,” he whispered huskily.

It took a few seconds to catch your breath, but then you let out a breathy giggle to let him know it was okay.

“Guess there’s a learning curve to fucking in this thing,” you teased, rolling your hips to let him know it was okay to continue.

“Guess it’s a good thing that I’m a genius,” he grunted with another thrust on the last word, this one less harsh but still deep enough to make you hiss and dig your nails against the inflexible crimson shoulders.

He continued that way for a few minutes, driving into you with just enough force to tinge the building pleasure with a tiny bite of pain. You reveled in it, in the way it made you feel claimed and his.

He suddenly straightened to his full height, causing your hands to slip back to the table for balance. His hands slid up to grab your ankles, anchoring your weight on them and spreading your thighs wide as he powered his hips in a deep, steady rhythm. That stern face stared down at you, and his strong grip left you powerless to do anything other than lay there and accept his unrelenting thrusts. Looking down, you gave a guttural moan at the sight of your juicing glistening along his metal cock, at how your pussy wrapped around his girth and accepted him over and over.

“You love this, don’t you?” he taunted. “Next time you see Iron Man on TV saving someone, all you’re gonna be able to think about is how it feels to fuck him.”

The words ramped up your pleasure, sweat dripping down your temples as you lowered to your back on the workstation and moaned underneath that glowing gaze. And just when you didn’t think the situation could get more intense, another little attachment popped out of an unidentified portion of the suit. It was a small, smooth cylinder, and you watched with curiosity as it drifted down between your legs and...landed directly on your clit...and started vibrating. Hard.

Keening at the sudden stimulation, you unsuccessfully tried to squirm away from the intense vibrations of the device. But the hands at your ankles and cock in your cunt kept you locked in place, forcing you to accept the overwhelming sensations. The pressure between your legs became almost unbearable, warmth suffusing your body as muscles tightened with impending climax.

“Yes, that’s it. Come all over this cock. It was made for you, now use that pretty pussy to make it yours.”

That was the final push you needed, the combination of the powerful thrusts, vibrations, and filthy words igniting the match of your orgasm, and the sparks crackled out from between your legs to engulf your entire body in flames.

He didn’t stop, riding you through the pleasure until your legs were shaking so hard it was a wonder he didn’t lose his grip. Nails clawed at the smooth surface of the workstation as you cried out his name over and over, until the orgasm died down to simmering embers and your voice lowered to a whimper.

Only then did he slow his movements, decreasing the pace until he came to a stop deep inside you, the clit vibe retreating into the suit as your walls continued to clench with aftershocks around the thick metal cock. When your thighs had stopped quivering and your eyes went from glazed to able to focus on him, he slowly pulled out, drawing one last full-body shudder out of you, as if your body couldn’t help but protest the loss.

He pushed you up the table so that your hips could rest on the edge, legs dangling lifelessly over the side as you laid there panting, unable to summon the energy to move. Leaning over you, the front part of the mask parted and Tony’s face came into view for the first time since he’d taken that single sip of coffee. His pupils were dilated and mouth slightly parted with his heavy breathing. When he leaned down to kiss you, your arms found the strength to lift and wrap around his neck, a spark of renewed desire igniting in your belly at the hungry way he laid claim to your mouth using lips, teeth, and tongue.

You gave a little squeal of surprise when you were suddenly lifted off the table and into the suit’s arms. Striding through the lab, he beelined for the staircase. You looked up at him in question, and he curled up the sides of his lips in that trademark Stark smirk.

“Iron Man had his turn fucking you in the lab. Now, it’s my turn to fuck you in our bed.”

Suddenly losing patience with the boringly human method of walking, he used the suit to lift off the ground and fly up the stairs to the bedroom. When there, he proceeded to remind you that, while the suit was a fantastic sexual fantasy, it could never compare to the love of the man who wore it.

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

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#ash writes #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark smut #iron man smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfics #tony stark x you #tony stark fanfics #tony stark fanfiction #mavel fanfiction #marvel #fanfiction #smut #iron man #iron man x reader #rdj #robert downey jr

3K notes · View notes

satendou · 4 years

Text

⟼ musical chairs

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: semi/reader

⇢ au: college!au

⇢ summary: when semi can’t seem to keep himself together, he turns to you

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: psuedo-incest, mild reluctance, dubious consent, smut, oral, no prep, angst, parental gaslighting, mentions of blood

⇢ word count: 4790

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: yolo

you could hear them again, screaming and yelling at each other and your heart thumped hard in your throat. your stepfather and stepbrother were going at it again, probably over something to do with school and his music, because that’s what it almost always was. the whole household was walking on eggshells around the two of them, waiting for the next time something would set them off.

semi was tired, you knew that. he was tired of his father always shoving his wants and desires down semi’s throat in an attempt to make him into what his father had wanted to be when semi just wanted to make music. you knew as much because, though the two of you weren’t extremely close, you were also the only one who understood what he was going through, having been stepsiblings for going on ten years at that point. there was an age gap between you that meant, until you were older, the two of you had had different friend groups and interests.

when semi expressed a desire to pursue a musical career, it was quickly declined, being told that his future was set towards a doctorate degree and nothing less. it was the first time semi had exploded, startling you at the sink and causing you to shatter the cup you were holding.

he had come to apologize later for causing you to hurt yourself, taking your bandaged hand and rubbing it gently for a moment before quietly asking why they couldn’t understand. you yourself didn’t understand and it made you feel almost guilty because they wholeheartedly supported your own career choice-- psychology, with a minor in social services. it was a nice, stable path, they said, unlike semi’s, which would be tumultuous and unfulfilling-- for them.

it was unusual to see the strong willed semi so unsure of himself and for a while you just sat there with him in silence, unsure of what to say to him until you finally asked, “how bad do you want it, eita? i don’t-- i can’t say you absolutely should ignore what they say, but if you really won’t be happy until you’ve at least tried then… maybe you should.”

semi had looked at you with a pensive expression and then sighed. “they won’t be happy.”

you squeezed his hand and gave him a smile, though it was thin with worry. “i’ll support you, eita. your music is amazing, you’ll do well if you have the chance, i know it.”

the transformation in his face was staggering, and it made your heart skip a beat to see the smile that spread across it. you couldn’t blame him for wanting to pursue his dreams, and you certainly wouldn’t tell him he shouldn’t.

the fighting started more frequently after that, a lot of it revolving around him going out to open mic nights at clubs, bars, and cafes-- anywhere he could get some stage time. you also learned shortly after that that he had dropped some of his courses and replaced them with musical theory classes and the like, asking you to help keep his cover, which you agreed to without hesitation. for the most part, he had kept you from getting involved or blowing that you were supporting him behind the scenes. you often pretended that semi was studying with you while he was actually practicing his songs or out at mic nights. on nights when he couldn’t use you was when the fights would escalate, except today it seemed that it wasn’t about just his music.

there was the sound of slamming doors and then the house fell silent, which wasn’t unusual in itself, but there was something heavier than usual in it, as if something had irreparably changed. sitting up on your bed, you strained your ears and picked up the lightest footsteps coming up the stairs. they stopped just outside your bedroom and the gentle rap on your door indicated who it was, and you called him in quietly.

“eita,” you whispered, reaching out to him. his eyes were rimmed red and his mouth was twisted in a feral scowl which, in another instance, might have frightened you. but you knew without a doubt that it wasn’t directed at you, and he collapsed face down on your bed, groaning into the blanket. “what was that about?”

you had to scoot closer to hear his muffled voice against the fabric as he said, “they found out i switched my classes. they opened my fucking mail.”

“fuck, i’m so sorry, eita,” you said, carding your fingers through his hair. there was a lot of tension in his shoulders even after he relaxed under your touch. “what are you gonna do?”

he shrugged before rolling onto his back. his long fingers wrapped around your hand as he did and pulled you down to splay across his chest. you wiggled around frantically, hoping to hide your fiery face before he could see it and ended up tucking your head beneath his chin. the sound of his heartbeat was erratic in your ear, belying how nervous he was under his aggravated facade.

“they want me to change the courses back or they’ll stop helping me pay,” he whispered, and his arm tightened around you.

a startled gasp flew from your lips and you pulled up, turning your body halfway so you were hovering over him. “no way, they-- those assholes. i don’t-- why can they not just accept what you want to do? i don’t get it.”

he smiled at that, a cold uptick at the corners of his lips as he said, “of course you don’t. you’re doing exactly what they want.”

the reaction was instant.

your shoulders deflated and you pulled away, sitting up cross-legged behind him. it wasn’t exactly your fault you happened to enjoy something they approved of. turning your head away, you stared at the closet door, biting the inside of your lip to stem the tears stinging your eyes.

semi’s lips parted and he sat up as well, shifting the mattress beside you while he scratched the back of his neck. “i-- sorry, that didn’t come out the way i meant it to. you’ve always been their golden child without even meaning to. i know you enjoy what you’re doing, it’s just that they actually approve of what you’re doing. wish i could do that too.”

“you’re fine just the way you are, eita,” you whispered, turning back to look at him. you could still feel the tears sitting in your eyes, not quite heavy enough to fall but definitely there, and semi’s hand came up to cup your cheek. his brows were furrowed, guilt evident on his face, and you covered his hand with yours. “you should do what makes you happy, not force yourself to live the life they wanted to have.”

the room grew silent after you said that, unsure of what to say from there even though he wanted to disagree. it would make things so much easier if he just gave in and stopped fighting, and he wouldn’t have to worry about funding or how he was going to pay for the classes he did want to take. he propped his elbow up on his knee, resting his chin on it as he stared forlornly at your bedroom door, listening to the bed shift until there was a soft touch on his shoulder.

your head was resting on his shoulder, arm wound around his in an effort to comfort him, and he smiled. his lips pressed to the top of your head, eyes closing while a feeling of fondness overcame him. how he had never noticed, before this whole thing started, what a sweet person you were was beyond him and he realized what an idiot he had been to ignore you all this time.

“thank you, by the way. i don’t say it enough, but i probably wouldn’t still be trying if you weren’t encouraging me,” he said against your hair, and felt you nuzzle against his neck. warmth rushed through him at the small gesture of affection, and he had to resist the urge to pull you closer. he wouldn’t consider himself a bad older brother. whenever you needed help studying, he would walk you through the steps or if you had to stay late at school for an extra curricular, he would wait around to walk you home. it was just that there was a disconnect, a distance between the two of you that had a lot to do with age and his own self-absorption-- and he would be the first to admit he was pretty full of himself sometimes.

“that’s okay, eita. i want you to be happy and I’ll support you however you need,” you whispered, squeezing his arm. “wanna go get something to eat?”

“that sounds great,” he said, pulling you to your feet.

again. a-fucking-gain, they were fighting. you could hear stomping and yelling, cabinets slamming and what ultimately sounded like glass shattering. it fell silent just after that, and you sat in your bed with your head in your hands, just listening to the eerie quiet.

after a moment, there was a quiet conversation that made you more nervous than the yelling, and then footsteps passed your bedroom door. a door closed downstairs and a light flicked on out in the hallway, and you stood up and opened your door to find semi hovering over the sink in the bathroom, the water running a vivid red that set your anxiety off.

“what happened?” you murmured, pulling his hand out from under the stream.

he winced as you picked up a clean hand towel and pressed hard against the wound to staunch the bleeding. “i was holding a glass and squeezed it too hard. he told me it’s stupid to pursue a career when i have no talent.”

where there should have been bitterness or anger in his voice, you heard cold amusement and defeat, and looked up at him. “that isn’t true, eita. i’m an expert, i would know.”

your joke fell flat and his chuckle was humorless and empty while he watched you examine the cut on his hand. it was shallow and had already stopped bleeding, not even requiring a bandage, and he flexed his fingers. “i think i’m just going to quit. this isn’t worth it,” he said, so quietly you would have missed it if you weren’t standing close enough to touch him.

sadness welled up, a quiet ache filling your chest for your sweet stepbrother, who was sometimes an ass and kind of a narcissist. cupping his cheek in one soft hand, his eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into your touch, frowning as you said, “if you really feel that way, then you should step back. but don’t let them tell you you wouldn’t make it. i know you would, eita-nii. you’ve never let anything hold you back when you really wanted it, and your music is amazing. you fill up those mic nights, it’s only a matter of time until someone sees you.”

his lips pursed and he looked at you, a quiet sadness in his eyes that you were sure mirrored your own as he said, “i’m not sure i’m passionate enough about it anymore, _____. they’ve taken it out of me. maybe i won’t go down the path they want me to but… i don’t know if i want to pursue music anymore.”

that was surprising, at least for a moment, and then you realized how normal that was. when you were forced to choose between the thing you loved and people you love, sometimes the love for the thing faded away because of it. you just hoped semi didn’t come to resent them too much, though they would deserve it.

“what do you think you’ll do?” you asked, linking your fingers with his. his skin was cool and soft, worn from years of volleyball and strong-- you could feel it in the way he squeezed your hand, that he could hurt you if he wanted but he didn’t. it was comforting and made you feel safe, and you found yourself lost in the sadness swimming in his eyes.

he took a step forward and you took a step back, the motion repeating until you were backed into your bedroom, the door closing with a soft click behind him. the bed creaked beneath you as he forced you to sit before climbing on beside you. he picked up the remote for your tv and clicked the power button, mulling over your question.

he wasn’t really sure, truth be told. it was something he had been thinking about for a while but when he really thought about it, he couldn’t see himself doing anything else. but the fighting was too much right now, he was too tired of trying to make them understand him to want to do it anymore, so he would find something else to focus on.

you were warm beside him, staring up at him with bemused concern as he scowled at your tv. if anyone else were to look at semi right now, they would think he was pissed, but you knew better. it was easy to see the sadness, and the confusion and fear beneath it on his face. music was something he had been wholeheartedly set on, and all of a sudden he was adrift, unsure of himself. even though he didn’t answer, you knew what it was already.

i don’t know.

it was written all over his face, screaming at you and you stretched your arms out to him.

he allowed himself to be engulfed in your arms, curling his massive frame down over you and resting his chin on your shoulder. his eyes remained locked on the flickering screen, unseeing as you rubbed his back and, in the end, he gave into the urge to hide his face in your neck.

releasing a long suffering sigh, he sagged into you, but his weight was too much to bear and you fell backwards into the mattress, pulling him down on top of you.

praying he couldn’t hear your heart pounding away in your pulse, you relaxed into your pillows and wiggled until you could see the tv. he had put an anime on, probably one tendo had recommended to him, and it was at least interesting enough to keep your attention.

until semi’s hands started to move.

it started off with him adjusting his head so he could watch tv, his hair tickling your neck before his fingers started tracing patterns over your clothed stomach. you giggled and swatted at his hand and he snickered, pretending to stop until you were relaxed again and then he attacked, pinning you down while he tickled your stomach and sides.

you squealed, curling down on yourself for a moment before reaching for one of the pillows beneath your head. raining blows down on him, he used one arm to shield himself while the other continued to attack. he was straddling your hips by then while you bucked up, trying to throw him off. it was a miracle you didn’t wake your parents up with your laughter and squeaking bed frame, but by the time you were done you were out of breath, residual laughter lingering in the air between you.

staring up at him, cheeks red and eyes finally alight with something other than that lingering sadness, lips parted as he panted above you. like a switch was flipped, you realized two things simultaneously: one, the position you were in, laying beneath him as you were and two, that he was rock hard against your stomach.

“shit, sorry,” he muttered when he caught sight of your eyes widening. he made no move to get off though, continuing to stare down at you with an unfathomable look, taking in the flush in your cheeks and nervous, not quite repulsed glimmer in your eyes. your arms were spread out across the bed beside you, and you tensed when he finally moved off to the side. “roll over.”

“huh?” you said intelligently, giving him a confused look.

he sighed, pushing at your hip. “roll over. onto your stomach.”

even as you do so, you say, “um, i don’t think we should--”

but he cut you off, coming to rest over your thighs, and you clammed up upon feeling his hands slide up your shirt and over your back. you could feel his hard on, resting now between the cheeks of your ass and you were nervous but not in the way you should have been at having your brother groping you. swallowing thickly when his fingertips grazed the sides of your breasts, you wiggled and he tutted you.

“don’t fight, princess. i know you’re wet already,” he said, voice a low, not-quite-whisper in your ear and you whined quietly. his fingers hooked in the waistband of the shorts you were wearing and pulled, slowly peeling them down. you tensed your thighs to hide the fact that he was right, you were soaked but his sharp eyes didn’t miss the way your panties peeled off your slick folds or the wet spot that had been left behind on them. “oh hell.”

you bit your lip when he ghosted over the round cheeks of your ass, barely a touch against your skin and then he squeezed, parting your lips so he could get a peek at your soaked cunt. it was almost surreal, your head spinning as you wondered how you went from a playfight to semi practically eyefucking you. it was impossible to wrap your head around and you jumped when he moved so he was sitting between your legs, spreading your thighs far enough that he could lay between them..

“e-eita--,” you called out quietly, not sure what you want from him when the first swipe of his tongue covered your pussy from your clit up to your clenching hole. “mm, wait, please, we--”

“it’s too late, princess,” he groaned against you, feeling you jerk hard in his hands. he looped his arms beneath your hips and canted your hips up so he could devour you with ease. “you taste so fucking good, i couldn’t stop even if i wanted to.”

the way his tongue flicked at your clit sent shocks through you, and your toes curled when he forced his tongue into your spongy walls, filling you up. he lapped at your walls, tasting you with another groan before returning to your clit. already, you could feel your orgasm building, something about not being able to see him taking you right up to the edge and when he dipped his tongue into you again, you came with a cry, legs bending at the knee and back arching down into the bed.

he continued to eat you out for another moment, until you were trembling and trying to get away, releasing your clit with a wet pop. before you could say anything, a complaint or otherwise, he was sliding his shorts down his legs and throwing his shirt over the side of the bed. both hit the floor with a faint noise, and then your shirt joined them. you didn’t argue when he settled over you again, pinning your thighs together between his while he settled his cock between the cheeks of your ass.

you knew it was going to happen regardless of if you asked him to stop. the part of you that felt it was wrong was growing smaller and smaller anyway as he rocked his hips, the soft skin of his hard cock sliding between your cheeks, occasionally dipping down to nudge your entrance. you could how big he was and your toes curled every time he seemed like he was about to slide into you. he would pull back though, and you could feel your juices on his skin, smearing it across yours.

“i don’t hear you complaining anymore, princess,” he said, and you could practically feel the smugness radiating off of him. he stilled above you, hands squeezing and kneading your flesh and you craned your neck to look up at him.

you nearly stopped his heart when he caught sight of your flushed face and lips swollen from nibbling on them, eyes wide and glittery while you whined, “i’m not, eita-nii. please, i-- please put it in, i want it--”

oh fuck.

his cock throbbed at your words, at the nickname, so innocent and yet you used it now.

“fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl,” he whispered, barely containing his own need as he positioned himself at your entrance. he knew it was cruel, not prepping you when he was as big as he is, but you were such a good girl, he knew you would take it without complaining.

much.

even just the tip was enough to make you whine, nails digging into the comforter beneath you and you used that to try and pull away as he forced more of himself into you. it was a heady mix of pain and pleasure; you wanted it so bad you could taste it but the pain of him forcing you open was almost too much. it didn’t even feel like you were stretching, he was just pushing everything out of the way to make room for his girth.

your teeth sank into the pillow to stifle your scream, drool dripping onto the fabric as your eyes fluttered and rolled, focus narrowing down to the incredible feeling of him buried deep inside you. as pretty as you acknowledged him to be, this wasn’t something you had ever fantasized about and you were wondering if he was going to split you in half when he finally stopped. you took a deep breath, ready to cry in relief when he pulled back out and pushed in again, your cunt already partially open and offering no resistance as he worked to hilt himself inside you.

it took a few more thrusts that left you winded and crying before his hips finally met yours and, just as he said, you didn’t complain once.

not that you could when he took your breath away with each thrust.

he braced himself up on his elbows over you, muscles tense on either side of your head, and you tilted it back to look up at him. his face was swimming in your vision, but you thought he was smiling even though he was panting.

and he was, even though his face was twisted with pleasure over how tight you were squeezing around him. he could feel you pulsing around him, still trying to suck him in deeper even though he was already nestled right against your cervix. there was something so wrong about being buried balls deep inside you, his little sister, someone he grew up in the same house with for so many years. it was taboo, wrong, fucked up and he pulled his hips back to your stifled whines before slamming back into you with abandon.

the noise you made was choked and high pitched and he throbbed at it, doing it again just to see if you would make it again and he was rewarded for his efforts. he wasn’t going to last long with you choking his cock like that. the tight fit made incredible noises, your pussy gushing around him and dribbling down to the blanket, and they filled the room along with your muffled noises. he was grateful you had the forethought to silence yourself as his hips slammed into yours because he couldn’t hold back even if he wanted to.

your legs kicked up against his back because he was grazing the swollen, spongy spot inside you with every thrust and you could feel every ridge and vein rubbing along your walls. it felt like he was dragging himself out of you every time and you gasped when he snapped back in, cunt stretching with the effort to take him even though he was fucking you like he was trying to imprint the shape of his cock into you.

his hair was matted to his forehead and there were red marks where his fingers were digging into your hips but it didn’t phase either one of you as you tightened up around him, cunt fluttering as you teetered on the edge.

you’d never cum without pressure on your clit but there was a spot inside you that he kept fucking rubbing and you were going to lose your mind. the whines that fell from your lips were mindless, eyes streaming tears and you thought it was going to be too much just as the coil snapped and your whole body tensed because he wouldn’t stop moving. you screamed into the pillow, a loud, whiny noise as he hips continued to roll, forcing your twitching walls to part around and pressing into the spot that made you cum in the first place and the bed below you soaks.

he knew you squirted, knew you were too sensitive and when you were trembling with overstimulation he stopped and let himself cum deep inside you with a broken, rough moan. his fingers bit into your hips and ass, keeping you still until he was done and then he collapsed over top of you, forehead resting on his arm beside your face and he saw that your eyes were closed.

at least you released the pillow.

when he had finally caught his breath, he nuzzled your cheek and you sighed, leaning into it. after a moment, you turned your head and bumped his nose, blindly seeking something and sighed again when his lips met yours. the corners of your mouth turned up and he can taste salt on his tongue and he worried for a moment that he might actually have hurt you.

“are you okay? you aren’t hurt, are you?” he whispered, unwilling to break the soft afterglow between the two of you, and you shook your head.

“no, i’m okay,” you answered, just as softly, and moveed so that your arm pressed to his.

balancing his weight carefully, he linked his fingers with yours, moving your arms up above your head, so that his chest was plastered against your back and you were fully encased in his arms. “eita, what now?”

he shrugged, breathing evenly against your cheek and pressing small kisses to your skin. “what do you want to happen?”

you mimicked him, shrugging as best you can beneath him and bit your lip. “i don’t know. can we even be anything? and would it end well if we wanted to be? i just…”

his normally sharp eyes softened as you stared up at him, doubt and confusion and worry all twisting your sweet face into a grimace, and he squeezed your hands. “we’ve only lived together for how many years? we already know each other’s bad habits and negative traits. we’d probably do a lot better than most.”

“what about them?” you persisted, and he knew you meant your parents. but there was a tinge of hope to your question, a little less tension in your body beneath him, and he kissed you full on the lips again.

“what about them? if we’re careful, they won’t know the difference,” he answered, breathing the words against your lips. he was over talking now, your wet cunt still gripping his cock and he could feel himself hardening again.

a careful roll of his hips produced a gasp and a whine, and your fingers squeezed down on his like your walls were around his shaft, buried all the way inside you.

“e-eita-nii,” you whined, lips parting in a quiet moan as he slid slowly out and back in. you were so loose and relaxed now that he had no issue slipping back inside with a wet squelch, groaning into your ear as you swallow him whole.

“feels so good, princess. ‘m not leaving this hole all night, i promise,” he whispered, and he can feel you trying to rock your hips back into his.

“fill me up, eita-nii,” you begged, voice ragged with need. there was already a throbbing between your legs, each drag of his cockhead over your walls leading you towards your high for a third time. “want all of you inside me, all the time.”

he growled at that, jerking his hips hard and forcing himself into you so fast it took your breath away. “don’t ask for things you can’t handle, pretty girl. i’d hate to break you so soon.”

a shudder ran through you at that, his words filled with dark promise and a question, and you breathed out shakily.

“break me, eita. please, please, break me.”

⇥ masterlist

#spencer's dark corner #tw incest #tw pseudo incest #tw gaslighting #tw abuse #tw blood #.musicalchairs

219 notes · View notes

shinkun · 3 years

Text

troublemakers (18+)

hizashi yamada | present mic x f!reader

word count: 3.3k

genre: college au, smut with little plot, afab

Locked in a broom closet with a loud mouth. But which one of you is it?

warnings: smut, public sex, blow job

notes: this fic uses a lot of italicized text to signify whispering, just a heads up!

- - - - -

You giggled as Hizashi backed you up into the claustrophobic janitorial closet, swinging the door shut behind you both. You stumbled backward, nearly losing your footing from the various brooms and ‘caution wet’ signs that littered across the floor. Hizashi gracefully pulled his arm around the back of your waist and pulled you into his torso before you dared to fall. The adrenaline of you being up to no good made the cadence of your heart hammer out of your chest and you were certain he could hear it too.

“This is so wrong.” You nervously bit down on your lip with a crooked smile, staring up at the DJ hero despite the minimal lighting. The dulled scent of detergent and various sanitization fluids tickled your nose.

“Mhhn..” He made no hesitation to bring his lips down to your neck, scattering messy kisses up it while grinding himself up against your hips. You could already feel the raging hard-on prodding up against you as if he was already about to burst. Given the circumstances and his urgent desperation, you guessed he must have been holding out for a while.

“..But you love it, babe.” His usual sing-songy voice was sultry and fierce. The heat of his breath tingled against your ear, causing a chill to creep down your body and an unexpected whimper to escape from between your lips.

He smirked at the reaction before narrowing into your smaller frame, causing your back to shove up against the wall of the suffocating, cement room behind you. He pressed his leg up into your groin, wedging itself underneath your bunched up skirt, making your breath hitch in your throat. He continued to nibble at the soft flesh of your neck, making sure to leave little marks up and down it —nothing too extreme— but enough to make sure that you and everyone else around could see you were claimed.

He could already feel the heat of your pretty, clothed sex pulsating against his knee. God, you were just as needy as he was.

“Mmm...Zashi..” Your arms curled around his neck while his hand wandered beneath the fabric hem circling your thighs. He slid his hand against the smooth flesh of your stomach, gradually sliding lower, before dipping his fingers beneath the surface of your panties. His slender digits sunk and explored your heat, skillfully parting your puffy lips before giving a few experimental drags through your folds. He let out a heavy sigh as his fingers stroked your moist entrance.

“Ooh.. tell me you want it, baby.” He said, wetting his fingers against the dripping hole before him, before rolling the tips in circles onto your aching bundle of nerves. Your knees buckled under the stimulation, causing your weight to rest into him even more.

You pressed your face into the curve of his shoulder to suppress a series of whiny moans.

“W...what..?” You squeaked between airy breaths.

“Come on, I know you can do it.” He pried, halting the stimulation to your needy clit for just a moment. It didn’t take long before your core throbbed in desperation for his touch again. “Just tell me how much you want this cock.” His voice increased in volume, a strainful plea mixed into it as if he couldn’t get off without hearing you beg for him.

“Hizashi, shh..!!” You let out a whispered yell, noting your obvious frustration. “Keep it down.” You croaked between gritted teeth, raising to the balls of your feet so you could peek passed his shoulder. Your paranoia heightened at the reminded fear of the possibility of someone wandering in unannounced.

“Hmph.” He removed his hand from your clothed heat altogether, pressing his leg uncomfortably harder into you. He slammed his hands against the wall on either side of your head leaving you caged in between his limbs. “You don’t get to shush me, sweetheart. Maybe I should use my quirk and let the whole school know we’re in here!”

Your eyes widened at the awakening of this sudden dominance. “You wouldn’t…” You huffed, tightening your stare into his, your hands balled into fists through the fabric of his dress shirt causing him to loom even closer over you, your noses just barely grazing passed one another.

“And what if I do?” Eyes peered over his tacky shades, emerald orbs prying into yours even through the shadows of the cramped closet. He loved taunting you, and he loved seeing you squirm beneath him even more. “Don’t you dare!” you half-heartedly squealed, sending a glare of both playfulness and concern his way.

Yamada puffed up his chest to let in a deep inhale, mimicking the actions as if he were about to power-up his supersonic screech. You gasped, tightly clasping both your hands, one above the other, over his mouth. Whether or not he would actually do it, you weren’t taking any chances. He scoffed, devilishly furrowing his brows in amusement. You could feel the way his soft lips curled into a smirk from beneath your palm.

Did you really think a couple of little hands could stop his quirk from activating? How cute is that!? He thought to himself. Of course he wasn’t actually going to do it, but the way you were so desperately clinging to his form now made his insides melt.

The blond grasped you by the wrists. Long, fingers digging into your arms, threatening to cut off the circulation, were roughly pinned just above your head before he dove down to cram his lips into yours. His patience was running thin. He wasted no time violating your mouth with his tongue; pushing it passed your plush lips and teeth and swirling it around your own. His breath was hot and heavy and frantic, causing your eyes to flutter back into your head. You returned the gesture, wriggling your twitching muscle around his, saliva mixing and leaking down your chin.

In one swift movement, Hizashi had you spun around, chest pressed flush against the cool surface of the musty room. He kept one firm grip on both your wrists while the other fiddled with his belt.

He frantically unsheathed himself from beneath the fabric of his briefs, thumbing the head of his cock in relief. His head narrowed into the crook of your neck, lips tickling the curve of your sensitive ear.

“Now, I’ll ask you one more time..” His hand fumbled with your panties, harshly yanking them down until the fabric had rolled itself around your thighs. He held the base of his rod and positioned himself behind you, teasingly letting it slide through your petals. He pressed up against them just enough to coat his shaft with your pent up slick. “What do you want?”

You winced at his persistence but finally let up, he was going to have his way whether you liked it or not. “Mmm.. your cock…” You grumbled the words under your breath, heat burning into your cheeks from the utter humiliation.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that, baby.” He continued to massage himself through your thighs, just barely grazing against your quivering pussy. Despite how flustered you sounded, he could feel just how eager you were to be speared against him, the way your ass began to arch in tandem with his touch.

The stimulation teasing your cunt was becoming maddening. “Please..” Your bottom lip quivered in anticipation as you cocked your head to the side, just barely meeting his gaze. “I want your cock..” Your eyes welled up enough so that they subtly beamed in the darkness. “...Present Mic, please, give me your cock..!!”

He choked. Oh, Mama. He knew he’d have you ready and begging, but he wasn’t quite ready for that. Hearing his hero name roll off your lips sent his ego soaring. He barely had the chance to use it in battle or hero training, let alone here of all places. The sultry hymn of your voice left his jaw slack and his cock twitching.

The blond was left flushed and speechless. Eventually, he let out the most exhilarating moan as he anchored his dick straight into your well-prepped and dribbling cunt, leaning into you until his chest was flush up against your back and his cock was bottoming out into your plush, velvety entrance. A throaty gasp escaped from your lips at the man’s sudden urgency to drill into you.

“That’s right.. Mic will make you feel real good.” The man said, gently pressing his teeth into the flesh of your ear and nibbling at the lobe. He stilled, giving you both a moment; basking in the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his length, allowing you to get used to his girth, the quivering motion of your heat trying to suck him in even more than he even could, the way you clenched around him in hopes that he’d continue stimulating your begging pussy.

He finally freed your arms of his grip and perched his own firmly at your sides. He snuck them just under your shirt so he could let his fingers roam and squeeze into the soft flesh cushioning your hips. He began to roll his hips in a steady rhythm; long, heavy strides that dug deep into your damp core. You bit down on your lip in attempts to stifle each cry that paired with his thrusts. Hizashi kept his nose huddled into your shoulder as he began to pick up the pace, gifting you with filthy, hushed praises —telling you how good a girl you were, how perfect your pussy felt— through each motion.

It didn’t take long for his pace to quicken. A symphony of muffled grunts, squelching wetness, and skin against skin were the only sounds that could be heard amongst the enclosed space you shared.

Every so often, the distant hum of laughter and chatter paced throughout the surrounding hallways. Eventually the fear you once had was numbed by your blissed out mind, the only remaining thought was to chase that pleasurable high that Hizashi was oh so close to generously providing you with.

The chuckles continued, gradually creeping closer, easier to make out.

“Haha ha, No way she said that.”

“She did, dude. I’m telling ya!”

“Oh..sh-shit...!!” Hizashi yelped, halting his movement dead in his tracks. Although you’d already heard the resonating sounds of conversations passing by, it occasionally kept at least one of you on edge when a voice came just a bit too close for comfort. What Hizashi didn’t realize while he was left frozen in his movements, was how hard he had jolted forward, leaving him pinned hard and pressing right up against that spongy front wall inside of you.

A blubbering mewl filled the room as you were left salivating, legs trembling under the pressure.

“B-babe!” Yamada lifted a finger to his lips to signal silence from you, sweat nervously building and rolling down his forehead. With bated breath he stiffened his body like his life depended on it.

“Hnngh..!!” Your brows contorted into a worrisome plea, your legs softly shaking as you tried everything in your power to hold it in but, god, you were so, so close, and every subtle squirm and twitch from your partner felt impossible to ignore.

Click.

Hizashi’s head whipped around at the clatter of a door handle wriggling open.

His slim fingers clasped around the bottom of your face, trapping your mouth into a forceful grip, void of air. Now it was his turn to shut you up. Your breath quickened through your nose; heavy, heated air bouncing off of the top of Hizashi’s hand as he bound you in place. You let out the most euphoric whimper. Although it was heavily subdued by the blond’s boney digits, it still left him anxiously gritting his teeth as a result. Somehow this unexpected restraint left you in an all-new state of arousal. Your muffled, inconsistent breath heightened the tingling sensation plaguing your core, leaving you oblivious to the fact that you were just moments away from being splayed out in front of a bunch of strangers.

The door of the closet steadily creaked forward, only a crack, letting light spill off of the opposing wall; a gentle orange hue, creeping towards you both. Hizashi’s heart must have been beating at a million miles a minute as he frantically brainstormed what type of excuse he was going to blubber out in order to sway him out of this mess.

Your eyes fell back into your head as you jutted tiny ruts back into the man. “Uhmf..” Your fingers gripped at nothing, nails meekly digging at the wall in front of you, slick dribbling down the side of your thigh. Almost there… Just a little..

“Idiot! Homeroom’s over there!” A booming voice teased.

“Oh shit, my bad.” The door slammed shut against the frame leaving the two of you in utter darkness once more. The noises of the outside world muted, bouncing from behind the closet door.

As the DJ hero’s full-body tension began to subside, a choked out cry sputtered from beneath his grip signalling the peak of that intoxicating high you’d been craving. Your weight quivered at the pleasure as your body was overwhelmed with a delirious heat leaving you light-headed and unable to pant from the continued restraint, just adding to the intensity of your blissed out climax.

Yamada noted the sudden tightness choking around his stilled cock. He finally let out the long, pent up breath that he’d been holding for what felt like forever, shakily exhaling, before composing himself —as if he wasn’t nearly displayed ass out, balls deep, in front of some classmates— then brought his attention back to you.

Hizashi continued to leave your mouth constrained, using it to awkwardly leverage your head up to meet his view. “..Well, aren’t you a naughty girl? Couldn’t even wait to finish.” He tsked. Your head lolled back meeting his chest as you sputtered soft, incoherent nonsense from below. A vibrant flush heated across your face as he observed your writhing form, the way you so impatiently needed to ride out that high. “Did you want to put on a show for them? Did that turn you on?” He pestered. His hips began to rock forward again; this time with brutal, long strides, so easily driving in and out of your dripping warmth. At this point you couldn’t tell if he was drawing out the same orgasm you’d been painstakingly seeking, or if this was a whole new peak sweltering from your stomach, but you let out another series of suppressed squeals and pants from his drool-coated palm. Your hands shakily clasped around his arm, somewhat for support, but mostly in attempts to pry his clamping fingers from your chin. He contemplated keeping you held back until he was sure you’d been well fucked and would keep quiet, but he decided he had other plans.

The man slowed his pace, letting you catch up to your surroundings before sliding his hand away and replacing it at your side. A heavy sigh fell from between your lips as you were finally allowed to breathe in the musty air once more, filling your lungs to a more comfortable capacity.

“Don’t get too comfortable.” Hizashi purred, tenderly pulled himself back until his cock was freed from your swollen pussy. You winced at the sudden emptiness despite how gentle he was to remove himself. His length was drenched with slick and looked as though just a few more touches would send him over the edge. “We need something to keep that pretty mouth shut and since I can’t trust you to be quiet, well, why don’t you do something useful and finish me off with it instead.” A toothy grin plastered his face.

With little hesitation you compliantly sunk down to your knees. You really didn’t mind getting him off this way and it was better to swallow down the evidence rather than sit through hours of class with Yamada’s jizz threatening to stain your undergarments. Hizashi laced his fingers in your hair as he leveraged your plush lips to align with his cock. You planted your shuddering palms on him, one against his thigh, the other positioned at the base of his rod. Yamada’s head fell back as he felt your tongue skillfully dance and curl around the head of his dick, your muscle feeling out every curve and edge to it, the taste of your orgasm still fresh on his pulsating meat. It didn’t take long for his impatience to get the better of him and his digits were left tangled in your scalp, using it to guide your mouth along his length.

“F-Fuck, babe.. I’m close…” At the very least he was nice enough to give you a warning, despite how short it was, before he was at his limit. With hips jutting forward and a hitch in his throat, you allowed him to guide your face forward until your nose was nestled against his soft, blond curls. He bit down on his lip to conceal a guttural moan as his dick twitched with vigor and thick seed suddenly shot down your throat in several heavy ropes. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as your jaw stretched to accommodate him and the milk painting the walls of your mouth; the closeness admittedly making it easier to gulp down the heavy load. When you were certain he was finished, and you could feel the way his cock twitched and began to grow limp against your tongue, you pulled back; white strings of cum and saliva keeping your lips connected to the bulge.

Yamada panted, loosening the fierce grip that was knotted on your head before tucking his flacid sex away. He offered you his palms and aided in supporting you until you were back on your feet. You were shaky, disheveled, and the lingering coolness of the room was beginning to catch up with your aching frame again, but a bashful grin of your own spread across your chin as you were finally met face to face with your partner once more. You simply looked at each other in silence before exchanging a few light-hearted giggles.

He pulled your arms so they were drenched over his shoulders and his, your torso, before taking you in for one last deep kiss. It was tender, warm and passionate, and aided in bringing you both back down to earth.

“That was amazing, ‘Zashi.” He began littering the side of your face with gentle, reassuring kisses that cast you in a full body warmth.

“Mmh...and we learned something new about you today.” He teased before leaving a playful nip on your chin. You could feel heat pooling into your cheeks once more as you ducked your head away and into his shoulder.

“Sh-shut up.”

—

After a few minutes of straightening each other out; pulling up your cold, used panties, pressing down any obvious wrinkles, curling back any stray flying hairs— you finally decided to step back out into the public of the college. It almost felt surreal as you were welcomed with the bright midday glow of the day.

Yamada had exited first, softly gripping your hand in his before you trailed right after, squinting ever-so-slightly to readjust yourself to your surroundings. You let the door gently fall behind you with that familiar click.

“Whoa, hey buddy!” Hizashi sung out to the raven-haired man who just happened to be strolling by, quickly falling back into his excitable self. His free hand flailed to wave at him.

The man blinked nonchalantly before passing glances back and forth between the two of you. His bold gaze made you tense up in Yamada’s grip. He then looked passed you both at the sign nailed to the head of the door.

“What were you doing in there..? And who’s..” He cut himself off deciding some things were better left unsaid. “You know what, I’m not even going to ask.”

#bnha x reader #bnhabookclub #bnha smut #present mic #eraserhead #hizashi yamada #present mic x reader #mha x reader #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #hizashi yamada x reader #fanfic #myfic

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ilici · 3 years

Text

kitty, kitty, kitty.

Gogywasfound's 1K event here: click here !

Summary: You and Karl rarely argue, and the one time you do, he is streaming. So he punishes you, after he finishes his stream.

GN reader !

NSFW MINORS DNI !!

Warnings: Degrading, cat maid outfit, biting, gagging, choking.

Word Count: 2138

Karl was already in a bad mood from Quackity and Sapnap teasing him about his relationship with Y/N. They kept repeating, "Karl is a simp", "Karl's the bottom in the relationship for sure.", "I bet Karl literally whines when he doesn't have Y/N's attention." Finally after a while, he snapped at them telling them to quit. They did, noticing he wasn't joking, although twitch chat thought it would be funny to come up with the nickname, 'Whiney boy Karl'. Y/N on the other hand was watching his stream from their shared bedroom, and they found it hilarious as it was all true. Karl was the bottom in the relationship, he would always beg for attention and would turn bratty if Y/N ignored him, and Karl was indeed a simp.

Taking it upon themself to go and bother Karl personally, Y/N got up out of bed and made their way to Karl's streaming room. Karl's fans have seen Y/N on multiple occasions, whether it was them giving food to Karl, keeping Karl company while he streamed, or even joining him on the stream, it wasn't abnormal for Y/N to just randomly pop up. When Karl's door open, he cautiously looked over as Y/N entered the room with a mischievous glint in their eyes. When the two would argue, it would be once in a blue moon, as they knew each others limits and boundaries. But it was never a pretty sight when they argued, as Karl is one to never truly show his feelings, he would finally let them all out when he was arguing.

He would scream, cry, and even go as far as to ignoring them for days on end. Y/N was a different story, they never really showed much emotion when arguing, nor did they show it when they were not arguing. Y/N was not the best at showing emotions due to childhood trauma, which Karl soon helped on, to the point where Y/N would only show genuine happiness around Karl. Now was one of those moments, where Y/N showed their emotions, which was mischievous. Karl already didn't want to deal with their antics as he was still a bit upset from Quackity and Sapnap's bit. "Hi bubba." Y/N greeted, walking over to Karl, and sitting down on the floor. Karl nodded his head in acknowledgment, as he pretended to focus on Minecraft.

Not liking his reaction, Y/N rolled their eyes and spoke up, "What's this 'Whiney boy Karl' ordeal about?" They asked, already knowing the answer. They just wanted to get a reaction from him, and Karl shifted trying to contain his emotions. "I don't know, something chat made up." He said dryly, hoping Y/N would drop the subject. "Obviously, but how do they know you're whiney?" Y/N asked once more, and Karl closed his eyes inhaling sharply. "Shut up." He muttered under his breath, Y/N hearing, but the mic didn't pick it up. Taking this as an invitation, Y/N shrugged and looked around aimlessly, "But it's true, why are you getting so worked up?" They said, which caused Karl to slam his hand down on his desk.

"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" He said, deathly calm, which shocked Y/N as he was always one to yell during their arguments. "What's wrong with telling the truth? You shouldn't lie to your fans." Y/N argued back, and Karl threw his headset off, which startled the two people that were in a call with him. "What the hell is going on over there?" Sapnap asked, as the two clicked on his stream to see what was happening. Karl had muted on discord, but forgot to mute his actual mic, so the stream could hear and see everything. "Oh? Tell the truth? Okay, sure." He scoffed, moving his gaming chair away from him roughly.

Y/N rolled their eyes, and flipped him off, "You are an asshole, I was joking around and you snapped on me. What the fuck is your problem?" They said, now angry, and Karl laughed shaking his head. "You know what you were doing. You came in here to purposely anger me." Karl said, stepping dangerously close to Y/N, "Holy shit, this is getting good." Quackity said, and Sapnap laughed a bit as he has witnessed a fight between the two before. "So what if I did?" Y/N said, grabbing Karl's shirt collar pulling him closer with a harsh glare. "I bet you did it because you're wanting me to fuck the absolute shit out of you." He whispered, so that his mic wouldn't pick it up, and Y/N visibly gulped.

"What the fuck did he say to them?" Quackity asked, and Sapnap hummed, "You may be short, but that isn't the only thing short on you. So is your temper." Sapnap said, making up random sentences as the two whispered between each other. "What if I want you to?" Y/N asked, looking at Karl's lips as he licked them hungrily. "Go get fucking dressed you attention whore." He whispered in their ear, and Y/N walked out of the room red faced. Everyone assumed it was from anger, but Karl knew what it was from. "Sorry guys, I gotta go. Y/N is having a tantrum because I've been streaming for 3 hours now." He said, before smirking, "Whose the whiney one now chat?" He asked, before he abruptly ended the stream leaving the call without a word.

Quickly making his way to the bedroom, Karl swung the door open to see Y/N in the maid outfit, adjusting the cat ears on their head. He smirked, and bit his bottom lip scanning their body. "What an adorable kitty you are." He said, and Y/N scoffed flipping him off, "Bite me, bitch." Y/N muttered under their breath, and Karl raised an eyebrow walking to them. Grabbing Y/N by their throat, he glared at them, as he reached behind pulling on their hair to make them look up at him as their height difference was by a whole foot. "Speak up kitty." He said, and Y/N winced looking Karl in the eyes, "I said, bite me, bitch." They said, daringly and Karl just chuckled.

"As you wish." He said, removing his hand from their neck, keeping the other tangled in their hair so their head was angled. Leaning down, he harshly bit their neck as Y/N let out a strangled mewl. "Fuck, that hurt." They said, trying to get out of his death grip. Karl being a lot stronger, they were stuck in his grip, as he kept biting around on their neck leaving prominent hickeys. "So pretty." He said, looking at his work on their neck. "On the bed, now." He demanded, and Y/N quickly listened not wanting to be punished more than they already were. Smirking at this Karl, slowly walked over as he adjusted them so they were on their hands and knees. "Ass up higher." He said, and Y/N arched their back.

Karl, was indeed the bottom in the relationship, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to be dominant. "Good kitty." He whispered, pulling down their underwear, and walked to the front of the bed, and forced their mouth open shoving their underwear inside their mouth gagging them. "Not a sound kitty." He said darkly, and Y/N nodded in understanding. Moving back, he moved the skirt up, showing their bare ass. He rubbed it lovingly, and slammed his hand down on it harshly to make sure, the underwear muffled the sounds. Smiling as he heard a muffled yelp, he slowly pulled his shirt off, and unzipped and unbuttoned his pants. Pulling them off, along with his boxers, he stepped out of them watching as Y/N squirmed around impatiently.

Getting on top of the bed, he gripped their hips roughly, knowing he'd leave bruises on them. Making sure they were prepared, he slowly entered in them, and he let out a satisfied moan when he bottomed out. Not moving, he waited for a signal, and once Y/N moved back against him for friction, he took that as the signal. Pulling out completely then slamming back in, he heard Y/N let out a surprised muffled moan. Repeating this action, he made sure to keep his pace even until he himself grew tired of it. Picking up his pace, he watched as Y/N was slowly reaching their high. Reaching forward he helped them reach it, "Cum for me, be the little whore you are and cum for me." He growled out, now ramming into them.

Letting out loud muffled moans, Y/N felt themself cum at his words, and they would've fell onto the bed if it wasn't for Karl's death grip on their hips keeping them up. Keeping his fast pace, he finally came inside of them, and pulled out watching as Y/N helplessly fell onto the bed tiredly. Smirking as he saw the white liquid slowly fall out, he smacked their ass again, this time softer. "You think we are done? Fuck no, get your ass up." He said, and grabbed their hips again, making sure to dig his nails into their skin. "Cat's have 9 lives, so you have 8 more rounds to go." He told them, and Y/N whined out, digging their face into the bed as he slammed back into them without a warning.

By the time it reached 4 A.M. Y/N was worn out, and sore, while Karl was just tired. Falling down beside Y/N he was breathing heavily, "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" He said, looking over at Y/N who was just staring at him in a haze. Chuckling he reached over, taking the cat ears off, "Now you know that I will bite back if it comes to it, literally." He said, and Y/N just let out a tired laugh, as they took off the maid outfit, limping to the bathroom to cleanse themself. Karl watched amused at their limping, "Seems like the cat couldn't land on all fours." He joked, and Y/N flipped him off from the bathroom.

"Will you shut up?" Y/N whined, and Karl got up walking into the bathroom, "Seems like someone didn't learn their lesson." He said, picking Y/N up, and walking into the bedroom throwing them down onto the bed harshly. "No- wait- I'm sorry." Y/N said quickly, and Karl looked at them, before he nodded. "Just rest up." He said, handing Y/N his shirt to put on. Putting it on happily, they laid down, Karl wrapping his arm around their waist. "Do you think they heard our argument?" Y/N asked, mainly thinking about if they heard the sexual parts or not. Karl chuckled, "I made sure they didn't hear those parts, don't worry. They probably heard everything else." He admitted, and Y/N nodded their head.

Y/N yawned tiredly, and soon fell asleep. Karl shortly fell asleep after, the two were soon awoken by a loud bang from their living room. Groaning, Y/N rubbed their eyes as they looked around confused, "Karl, someones in the house." They said, and Karl quickly got up walking out of their room to go into the living room. "Holy shit!" Karl yelled, and Y/N bolted out of the room, and found Karl on the floor, and a relieved Chris standing above him. "Oh my god Y/N I thought Karl murdered you!" He said, running over to you, and hugged you. Looking down at Karl confused, Karl shrugged in an answer, "I saw your guys argument, and when Karl or you didn't answer your phones for 12 hours straight, I thought one of you died." He said, and Karl laughed a bit.

Y/N scoffed and mumbled, "One of us did." Which Karl heard, and Chris looked at Y/N confused, "What?" He said, and Karl got up, "They probably got scared from you." He said, and Y/N nodded, "I thought me and Karl were going to be murdered, as it is 6 in the fucking morning Chris!" They yelled the last part, and Chris laughed sheepishly, "I was just worried about my baby cousin, alright?" He said, now embarrassed. "How the hell did you even get in?" Karl asked, and Chris pointed to the now shattered window, "Sorry about that.. I'll ask Jimmy to buy you a new one." He said, and Karl slapped Chris upside the head. "God you're so dumb, and you have a fucking son." Y/N said, rolling their eyes pinching the bridge of their nose.

#gogys writing event #gogywasfound #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs smut #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction

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plush-rabbit · 4 years

Text

Can I Ask You Something?

Friendships are an odd thing. It starts off as an unexpected meeting between two strangers, where you later begin to learn more about this person who was just a stranger a few moments ago, to trusting that person wholeheartedly; to do whatever you can to make them happy. It’s a wonderful thing where you’re in love with said person, willing to hold their hand in public, kiss their cheek, go to them first when you have news of any kind. Where a mere memory of them is enough to make you smile, where after not seeing each other for a moment is enough to make you want to hug them, where you can feel safe in their arms. You meet a person by chance and they end up becoming one of the most important people in your life. Friendships are built on trust. Built on sharing snacks. Built on inside jokes. Built on love.

Your friendship with Tomura, however, isn’t any of that. It’s different than friendships you’ve had before. It was a meeting that you forced and that he complied with. Where you have doubts about the friendship- or whatever you can call this relationship when the word feels to sour on your tongue- and you don’t know what he’s thinking or what he looks like. Where you lay awake after late night talks and can feel a storm brew in your mind as you lay under the covers and think about him. It’s a relationship built on messages and the occasional phone calls. You don’t know if you can trust this person. You want to and sometimes when you hear his laughter, you think that you know him- you can trick yourself that you know who he is. You’re okay with sharing snacks with anybody- you like to share, you like to eat a cake and leave your friends the piece with the most frosting. There are jokes that you’ve two shared- ones where you snort and call him a dork and ones where he laughs- it’s shrill and a bit creepy if you were to be honest- and he calls you a dumbass and you can hear the faint sound of people yelling in the background that you never comment on.

When you were lonely, you reached out and he reluctantly let you grab onto him. You held tight and now you’re afraid to let go. You’re afraid that he’ll let go and a part of you that won’t remain silent no matter how many times you smother it, never wants him to let go of you. You’ve become oddly attached to the faceless man.

Tomura is crass, curses as if it were his first language, secretive as if he were protecting himself, curious as a cat, prying into you with delicacy and cunningness, never realize what he’s doing until you’re halfway through a story. He’s rough around the edges, making sure to bare his canines when you begin to pry. But no matter how many times he barks, no matter the little insults that leave his mouth, insults that longer hold the same sting as they used to be before, you inch closer to him. You always feel a second away from offering another video chat- this time where you can see who he is. You want to see who he is behind the screen.

However, at the same time, you’re scared who you’ll see. You’re scared that perhaps he’s a ghost from your past, someone who you wanted to leave behind that you’ve forgotten their voice and they’ve found a new name to use as a mask. You worry with dread creeping at your ankles on the good nights that the person who you can joke with is someone with cruel intentions. Other nights, you drown in panic and wish to grasp at him like a lifeline, only for the worry to drag you deeper, his face always muddled and hand always out of reach.

You wonder what he thinks of you. What his true thoughts are behind the jabbing insults and hissed out curses but you’re always too afraid to ask, too afraid what the truth will reveal.

Within the next week, there’s idle chatter in between the early mornings and late nights. Chatter where it fills the room with such ease. Chatter that dies and fills the room with silence, noises from the house are the only indicators that you both are still on the call. Chatter where it gets cut off due to your own responsibilities or his. A promise from you that you’ll try to message him later if time allows it and a click of his tongue as he tells you he’ll talk later.

The relationship gets easier day by day. Sometimes the word friend rolls of your tongue without you even realizing it- it feels natural to call him that. Other days, you’re hesitant to even say the word- to even think of what it truly means. It catches and sticks in your throat, suffocates you and leaves you feeling odd all over. Days where his name is light and sweet on your tongue, days where it’s bitter and uneasy. It’s easier to say a nickname those times; it doesn’t hold as much power as his actual name.

Talking to him gets easier- even if his name makes you unable to breathe. There are more phone calls, even if they’re short. You get to hear him talk about his day, talk about what he’s currently doing and most of the time he’s playing a game and he’ll entertain you with the plot, with the lore and the graphics. You do your own research on the side, your gasps telltale signs that you looked up what happens in the end and him snapping at you immediately not to spoil anything. You never do, always giving a vague hint to look behind a box if he wants an achievement or extra ammo. But you never give him tips. You offered once and he denied, saying that he wanted a true victory and not a false one where he had to rely on an external source. The ways he says it, with a heavy voice that takes a darker tone, makes it feel as if you’re missing out on something. You lay off, telling him that you’ll be there if he ever needs help, hoping that your own tone will hold the same hidden meaning that his held.

“Okay, so what I’m hearing is that not only do you play video games like twenty four-seven—”

“Not twenty four-seven,” he growls but the sound of guns in the background does nothing to help prove his point.

“—and you watch anime and you basically like never leave your home? You’re like a total NEET,” you giggle into the phone, phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. You tighten your hand around the bar when the subway wobbles and around your bag of takeout when someone shuffles in the corner of your eyes.

“Not a ‘NEET’,” Tomura says, hissing into the receiver and you can hear the scene restart. “Look, if I’m a NEET then so are you.” He curses loudly into the phone and you wince, eyebrows furrowing and mouth pulling into a wince that he can’t see.

“You know,” you voice takes on a sing-song tune, “if you need help, I’m more than happy to give you a hint.” Your eyes flicker upwards, reading the poster taped on the wall and flickering down to a baby bouncing on their father’s lap. “If you descri—”

“It’s fine,” he drones. “Besides, you aren’t even home yet… Are you?” On your side of the phone you hear him slurp on something and a clatter of glass.

“No, not yet,” you confirm, “I’m like a stop away.” You lick your lips and glance out the window, sighing when the outside world still blurs by. “And I like totally fu-messed up too,” you pull a face at your almost swear, glancing at the baby who remains unbothered and father who checks his watch. “I forgot I had my headphones with me so like instead of talking to you through the mic, I have the phone pressed up against my ear and shoulder.” You stumble when the train comes to a slow, jostling people awake and others slipping their phones into their pockets. “My phone is gonna be all greasy and gross Tomu,” you whine, bouncing your leg and clutching the plastic bag tighter in your hand.

“I don’t know why you didn’t just have it delivered,” he grumbles.

“Because I was already—sorry, sorry,” you mumble with your head bowed as you weave out of the subway, wincing each time the plastic bag nudges at your leg, “I wasn’t thinking and I was already in the neighborhood.” You stand next to a wall, hands searching in your bag for your pair of headphones.

“Dumbass,” he snickers into the phone.

“Yes, yes. I’m very dumb,” you mumble, tongue sticking out as you untangle the wires, careful not to pull too harshly. “Now give me a sec, lemme connect my headphones.” You let out a sigh and begin your trek to your apartment. You smooth and the wires and speak into the mic. “Okay, I’m back. I miss anything? Finally beat that level?” You tease, a skip in your step as you wait for his reply to come. It’s silent for a moment too long. “Toma? You there, bud?” Still no answer. You step to the side of the sidewalk and see that call is still going on. “If you were gonna step out, should’ve at least waited to tell me,” you mumble to yourself, a frown tugging on your lips.

You disconnect the call and send a quick message to Tomura to call you later when he had the chance. You keep your headphones in your ear for the rest of your walk home, humming a soft tune and hoping that no one would stop you.

Shigaraki comes back to his phone with a reflection that stares back at him, a hand covering most of his face and a red eye that glares back at him. The screen is black and he pulls the hand off with a sigh, letting it hover over his chest before placing it delicately on the desk.

He frowns when the call has ended, the contact screen staring at him and a message icon is on his notifications. He reads your message with a neutral expression and checks the time. Thirty minutes until they go on a mission.

Your phone rings twice before you pick up with a cheery, muffled hello.

“Why’d you hang up?” He asks, getting straight to the point, fingertips drumming on the desk, eyes looking into the computer screen where he last paused. He hears the clinking of glass and wonders if you’ve already arrived home.

“Because I was on the call for like a minute or two until I figured I hit bad cell reception or you like had to do something,” you pause for a moment. “Was I wrong?” Your voice is muffled and he suspects that you are home and you’re eating. “What happened?”

A mission brief. One that went on long enough for you to hang up and be in the middle of your meal when he called. A pale hand reaches over to grab Father, placing it back on his face, instant relief and sickness coming to him all at once. “I had things to do,” he answers.

“Right. Things,” you say sarcastically and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Could’ve sent me a message or something. You don’t have to like just disappear on me,” you chuckle.

He hums and nods to himself. “Are you going out tonight?” He asks, closing his eyes, a hand twisting the shirt into his palm.

“Nah, why? Did you want to have a long call this time?” He stares at the cracked ceiling with disinterest. “I wouldn’t mind but—”

“I have something to do soon.” He flexes his hand in front of him and runs his thumb through his fingertips.

“Oh.” He hears you hum. “Why did you ask if I was going out then?”

His eyes shoot open and he stands straight. Why did he ask? He knows why. He can feel his breathing grow heavier, breaths ragged and throat tight. There’s a mission later tonight. Without thought, his hand wraps around his neck and nails drag across his skin, he lets out a low whine in response, pinpricks of scarlet bead out.

“Tomu?” You sound genuinely concerned. “Are you all right?” Fuck. “Did you hit yourself?” Fuck. “Tomura if you don’t say anything, I’m gonna think you’re dead. So like, can you please respond?” With a mind of its own, his hand pulls away, nails and fingertips shining with his blood. “Tomura if you left again without telling me I’m gonna be like,” you pause for a second, “annoyed.”

“What do you want?” He hisses out, hand dripped in blood curls into a claw.

“Oh thank god.” He hears you sigh. “I was worried you like fell or someone had broken into your place. Are you okay?”

“Why do you care?” His lip curls in disgust and the hand on his face makes him feel sick, stomach churning and bile rising in his throat.

“Because you’re my friend.” You make it sound like it’s the most obvious thing. “All I hear from you is like silence for a while followed by a whine. I thought you were hurt,” you mumble, your tone is small, like a child who is being scolded.

He’s silent for a long time and his mouth burns, warm liquid seeps out and trickles down his neck. He feels sick.

“Hey,” your voice is soft, “if you’re not feeling good, we can talk tomorrow if you want? Sound good Tomu-”

He hangs up without a goodbye. The little finger that doesn’t touch the phone shakes. His heart is beating rapidly against his chest and it hurts. He wants to throw the phone at the wall and stomp on it until it’s broken in millions of pieces. He wants to decay the phone in his hands. He wants to- He takes in a sharp breath and closes his eyes, his anger still rising and threatening to boil over and cloud his mind. The phone is tossed on his bed and the door shuts behind him with a loud crack.

You don’t hear from him for few days. All your messages are unseen and unanswered. You dialed him the day after, left a few messages asking if he was all right and any other variation that you could think of. You’re too scared to actually dial him now; a sick feeling in your stomach when you think back to the last conversation that you had with him.

He cut you off so quickly. You were sure that this friendship was on the better half than it was when you both initially had met. Heck! He had even begun to talk about his days unprompted and would answer you when you would call to talk about nothing. But then he was silent and made a noise like he had gotten surprised at best or hurt at worst. You didn’t want him to be hurt. But with the way he wasn’t answering your messages and not even looking at them was making you feel sick every day. And it wasn’t like you could send someone of authority over since you didn’t even know his address or full name.

“God, this sucks,” you grumbled, running a hand over your face and gritting your teeth. Your fingers tap nervously on the side of your thigh, something to keep you in rhythm. “Maybe I’m overthinking this,” you tried to reason to yourself but the pit inside kept growing. “He’s always been secretive maybe he had a surprised vacation planned or like a family emergency.” You can feel the heat in the tips of your ears burn. You bring your hands up, your fingers tracing over the shell, noise muffled for a brief second. “He’s fine,” you tell yourself, voice firm and hands in fists, “I’m being silly.” You nod as if giving clarification to a statement said into the air will make it that much more true. “Plus, it’s not like I can do anything except for wait for him to message me back.” You don’t want to think about the “or” part of that sentence. Anything could be added after “or” and none of the options were good.

It’s silent in your room; your face is illuminated by the dim glow from your laptop. It burns hot on your blanket and provides you with additional warmth that soothes your nerves. Your eyes burn with sleep and head begins to hurt, fatigued by sleep and light that shines directly on your face. Your body grows heavy, eyelids begin to droop and your phone is fully charged, the green light shines bright and is unblinking as you stare at it. Your eyes glance down to the corner of the screen, the time blinks at you, flipping quickly into a minute in the future. Your eyes are back to the phone. You can feel the bags beneath your eyes droop, feeling that if you stay awake for any longer your own body will pull you into the bed until you’re a mess of limps entangled in a plush blanket.

Your phone remains silent and unmoved and you can feel you heart actually hurt. It feels as if it’s being squeezed; it’s a soft squeeze that leaves you taking in a bigger gulps of air, but the nails that dig in, that peel away at it the top layer and leave it exposed, is what truly makes it ache.

There’s been no contact from him in the past few days. The first day went by without worry, he’s done it before where you wouldn’t hear from him for hours and you assumed that perhaps he had been busy all day and fallen asleep afterwards. Messages were left unopened and you were disappointed but it was nothing to fret over. The second day, messages were still unanswered and the call you sent had gone straight to voicemail. The worry had dugs its claws into you at that point. One the third day, the first few messages were left unseen. The phones calls afterwards would ring for too long, making you sick with worry and a bottom lip that was bitten and stained your mouth in bright red. On the fourth day, you hadn’t bothered to send a message, reasoning that he would message you when he was ready. If he was ever was. The day bleeds into the night, your mind distracted by trips to stores for house necessities.

It’s late, the moon high in the sky surrounded by clouds and stars as you lay in bed, consumed by an online video. The screen dims, a notification popping in the corner to alert you that the battery in running low. With a click of your tongue, you put your laptop to sleep, the screen loading into your lock screen before going dark, the power light grows dim and you’re staring at your reflection in darkness. Your eyes adjust quickly and you close it softly, sucking in air through closed teeth when the bottom heats the pad of your fingers. It’s shoved off to the side, and you’re alone in the darkness. Hands search for the cord, fingers tracing a line down until it reaches the plug and it’s pulled out, tucked into the handle of your dresser with a soft clink of metal against wood. In the darkness, your thoughts begin to creep up, hands that grip at every part of your body and send both a mixture of chills and heat, it freezes you, makes you clammy and all at the same time makes you uncomfortably hot and twitchy. Dull nails are dragged across the blanket in an attempt to calm your nerves, the little moment of relief is well received. You repeat the motion, letting yourself indulge in the noise.

Your mind grows foggy and soon the repetitive motions become sluggish until your fingers twitch, once, then twice before coming to a still. You’re asleep for a wonderful thirty minutes where the promises of dreams start to lure you in. And then your phone buzzes to life. It’s a shrill ring that you set to make sure if anything had happened while you were unawake, the noise will wake you up and you’d respond to whoever it was on the other side.

It comes to an abrupt stop, the other person on the line having given up but then it rings again. Your body wakes first, hands searching blindly until the phone is pushed and falls onto the floor. You wince and search for the lamp, the light making you close your eyes and mouth pulled into a grimace. With a look downwards, you sigh when your phone has landed face up. Your body threatens to fall off the bed as you reach to pick up the still ringing phone. There are no cracks on the screen, still pristine and clear as you analyze the screen and through bleary eyes, you read the caller ID.

Tomura.

Your eyes shoot open and hands reach for the phone, a quick swipe of the green button. “Hello?” Your voice is slurred and heavy with sleep. You clear your throat. “Hello?” Oh god, please let him be okay, please.

“You sound tired.” He sounds forced- as if he had to push the words out of his throat.

You arch your brows and bite back a groan. “…Do you know what time it is?” Without meaning to, a yawn escapes you and you lay back down on your bed, your eyes struggling to stay open as you wait for his reply.

“Right.” He sounds distant and your worry bubbles over.

You lick your lips and glance to the night stand where an empty water bottle lays on its side. “Tomura? Can I ask you something?” You shift in your bed and pull the covers up to your chin.

“Whatever.”

You let out a low sigh. “What happened? You were gone for like a while.” Sleep slowly vanishes from your mind but it remains foggy, unable to filter what’s you’re trying to say. “You don’t have to like tell me, but I was worried that something had happened to you or like I don’t know, that you like just wanted to stop talking to me and,” you push the blankets off you and lean against the wooden bedframe, “I… Are you okay?”

He’s silent on his end. His breathing is the only thing that you can hear, it’s steady and it eases you a bit to know that he’s still on the line. Silence has filled your conversations with him plenty of times. They’ve been awkward, unnerving, but they’ve also been comfortable, reminding you that you’re not alone and that he’s still there. This silent however is just silent. There’s no reassurance that he’s okay; just that he’s still here. Sleep is fading in and out, a gentle tide that nudges you awake for a few seconds longer before receding back and lulling you back to your sleep.

“I’m okay,” he croaks out and in the background you hear a loud creak.

“Promise?” You ask, eyebrows knitting together and hands once again scratching at the blankets that warm you.

“Why do you care?” His voice is small as he speaks to you.

“Because you’re my friend,” you tell him, “I care about my friends Tomu. And you’re my friend so by like definition, I care about you.” You ran a hand through your hair, smoothing out your hair. “I- Am I your friend?” You take in a deep breath and run your thumb across the side of your finger. “You like don’t have to answer that now, I just—”

“Yes.” His voice is tight but clear. “I- You are.” You hear let out a shaky breath.

Your lips curve in a gentle smile. “I’m glad.” Tears still prick at the corner of your eyes and make your vision blur, you’re unsure if it’s from the sleep that still clings onto you or the emotional side of you that always makes itself more apparent in the dead of night.

“You sure you’re okay? You sound… different.” Different is the nice way to put it. He sounds defeated and lost. When he’s silent, you press. “Bad night?” You offer as a way to expand on what he’s feeling, a way to help him.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He says wearily, a loud yawn that confirms his tone.

“You wanna talk about it?” Your mind and body begs for sleep. “If you want of course. I don’t mind staying up.”

“It’s late.” It sounds like he finally realized what time it was, voice suddenly tired and thick with sleep.

“Yeah, Tomura, it’s really late.” You lie on your side, legs curled in and eyes are barely able to stay open. “But like, I’m already awake. The offer still stands, you know.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow?” He asks, his voice returning to that akin to a child, hopeful and nervous all at once.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You chuckle lightly. “Just like don’t flake out this time, okay?” You joke.

“I uh, yeah. I won’t flake. I promise.” The last words are soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear or even want to acknowledge what he had said himself.

“Okay. I’ll hear from you tomorrow.” With a burst of late night courage, you open your mouth. “Remember, you promised. And you can’t break a promise- especially to a friend.”

You hear him laugh, it’s muffled but it’s genuine. It doesn’t sound creepy to you this time, it sounds pleasant. “Yeah, I won’t.” There’s a brief second of silence. He wishes you goodnight and whispers your name. There’s a skip in your chest when says it and a grin grows on your face, slowly etching itself onto you.

“Yeah, okay. Goodnight Tomura.” A second of peace passes where you can breathe easy and you hang up first; the phone blinks the time that you’ve talked to him before going dark. You slide the phone onto your nightstand and the blanket bunches under hands as you curl in deeper into the bed, eyes closing without resistance and mind clear and chest light.

Tagged:

@rogueofbullshit

@loveableasshole

@yul-is-sparkling

@noonewouldlisten25

@noodlenerd101

@localdisaster

@snackgod

@iikillerkitteh

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massivelycreepypineapple · 4 years

Text

That Damn Video

Request: uh, hi !! um can i ask for a request ? maybe dean & sam are going through some old dvds of reader before she was hunter ( in her teens ) & in a video maybe reader was singing "bubble gum bitch" by marina & then fluffy dean 😌

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader, Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader (platonic)

A/N: Hope you enjoy this!! Damn this song is stuck in my head now! -.-

Feedback is welcome!

Word Count: 1721

❅ ❅ ❅

“What are you doing?” Asked Sam startling Dean.

“Ouch!” Came a muffled replied as Dean hit his head inside the wardrobe. He nearly had his entire body inside going through some things, grunting and groaning when Sam showed up out of the blue. He pulled his head out and glared at Sam. “Give a guy some warning, would you?”

“Well, you’d hear me coming if you weren’t busy trying to get inside the wardrobe.” Quipped Sam amused.

“I’m trying to make some space. It’s great that Y/N moved into my room, but damn she has a lot of things.”

Sam chuckled at that walking closer to take a look, “Need help?”

“Yes! These clothes are going to kill me!”

“Death by bra. Sounds about right for you.” Smirked Sam helping him with a box.

“Shuttup.”

Y/N and Dean have been dating for 6 months now and only a month ago, Y/N moved into Dean’s room. They wanted to take it slow and even if they lived together in the same place and loved each other, going back to their own rooms at the end of the day gave them that bit of space to get their heads straight. Dating while being a hunter never ended well and they agreed that slow was a nice way to start their relationship.

5 months later after Dean nearly died in a hunt, they decided that they didn’t have all the time in the world and they would rather spend every single second they got. With that, Y/N moved into his room. But with her came a buttload of things that took up so much of space and poor Dean soon found his clothes getting lost with hers. So when Y/N left to help Ellen and the girls with a hunt, Dean figured he’d reorganise their room and make it homely to the both of them.

“Hey what’s this?” Asked Sam holding a box of old dvds that he found hidden in the depths of the wardrobe.

Dean shrugged at it confused, “Never seen them before. Must be Y/N’s.”

“Oh my god, Dean. The box says home videos!” Sam grinned widely, noticing the other side of the box.

“Shit, we have got to watch these!” He grinned mischievously. He quickly snatched it out of his hands and walked out of the room, heading to the Dean cave.

“What about reorganising?” Sam followed him.

“Screw that! I got a feeling we just struck gold.”

They walked into the Dean cave. Dean was all giddy, barely able to control his glee as he put one of the dvds in. They got themselves comfortable as the video started.

It started with a 5yr old Y/N showing off her brand new dress. Her mom was recording her as she did her adorable version of a cat walk. She was giggling as her parents cheered her on. It was extremely cute

The boys kept going through the dvd and watched as Y/N grew older. They kept giggling and discussing how to embarrass her once she came back home. Midway Sam got up to make some popcorn and the boys agreed that watching adorable little Y/N and her shenanigans was better than any movie they could think of.

An hour into it, they put in the last dvd into the player and what they came across was by far the best thing they had ever seen.

A shy 12yr old Y/N with heavy make up and wearing a bright pink shiny jumpsuit came on screen.

“If you do this, we’ll go skiing this weekend.” Her mom’s voice was heard.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She mumbled, face turning red.

“But you do it so well, baby. Now come on!”

Y/N rolled her eyes and her mom started the music in the background and handed her the mic. Soon Y/N began singing the most amazing song ever heard. She was doing it so well with the attitude, dance and everything. And then the chorus came, Y/N’s kid voice making it even better.

“I’m Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips

Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss

I'm Miss Sugar Pink, liquor, liquor lips

I'm gonna be your bubblegum btch

I'm gonna be your bubblegum btch”

“Okay, I’m done!” Yelled Y/N. “I’m getting out of this stupid dress!”

“Aww come on! Just finish the song!”

“Moooom!”

“Hey, it’s your dad’s birthday gift, you know how much he loves this song. Especially when you sing it, baby.”

“I’m making him a card like a normal person.” Y/N grumbled and stomped away, making her mother laugh. The camera followed her for a bit before turning to her mom’s face who said, “Well, honey, I tried but your daughter is as stubborn as you.” Before cutting.

There was silence in the bunker when the video ended. Dean and Sam looked at each other in shock before bursting with laughter. Dean laughed so hard he fell off the couch.

“That’s the future mother of your child, Dean.” Laughed Sam clutching onto his stomach.

“I can’t believe she kept these videos from me!” Grinned Dean. “Oh man, she’s never going to live this down!”

__________

That evening Y/N came back from the hunt.

“Boys! I’m home!” She yelled coming down the stairs.

She dropped her bags at the bottom of the staircase and made her way to the kitchen. She could hear Sam and Dean talking in there. She walked in, smelling something delicious.

“Hey baby!” Greeted Dean

Y/N went up to him and wrapped her arms around him. He kissed her forehead and hugged her tight. “I’m glad you’re back and safe. Missed you.” He said.

“Missed you too. Something smells good.”

“I’m making lasagna. Your favourite.” He grinned proudly.

“You’re the best, baby” She grinned back.

“Get a room, guys.” Mumbled Sam.

“Love you too, Sam.” She smiled and hugged him too.

“How was the hunt?” He asked.

“It was a cake walk and I kicked some butt.” She smirked proudly.

“That’s my girl!” Cheered Dean

She took a seat beside Sam, exhausted from the hunt. As soon as she sat down Sam pulled out a pink box and offered it to you.

“Want some bubblegum, Y/N?” He asked keeping a straight face so she wouldn’t suspect anything.

“No thanks, Sam.”

“You sure?”

“Very.” She looked at him confused.

“Come on! Take one.” He insisted.

“Sam! What’s with you?” She glared at him.

“Don’t be a bubblegum btch, Y/N.” He looked at her pointedly, making Dean snort as he cooked.

“What?” She looked at them both suspiciously.

Sam simply shrugged at her and smiled innocently.

“Dean your brother is being weird again.” She said looking helplessly at Dean’s back.

“He came out all weird.” Dean chuckled. “But really, you sure you don’t wanna have some gum, Ms. Sugar Pink?

Sam lost it at that.

“W-where did you get that?” She asked looking wide eyed at him.

“Oh I don’t know” he said nonchalantly turning out and picking up the dvd from the counter. “Maybe something to do with this home video?”

She jumped out of the chair looking shocked. “Dean.” She started slowly. “Where did you find that?”

“Sammy found it in our wardrobe.” He grinned.

“WHY?! Just why Sam?! Why were you in our wardrobe?!” She glared at him.

“Hey!” Sam jumped to his defence. “Dean wanted help in reorganising the room!”

“What?!” She snapped at Dean.

“Yeah it was a mess, N/N. So I brought in Sam to help out, which by the way is still not done fyi. Anyway, we were going through the wardrobe and guess what was tucked away in the bottom under all those clothes?” He had a shit eating grin.

“Please don’t tell me you watched them all.”

“Oh Y/N, baby, of course we did!”

She groaned at that covering her face.

“You sure got the attitude for that song, N/N” Quipped Sam.

“You!” She pointed at Sam. “You shut up! And you!” She pointed at Dean. “You’re in so much trouble, Winchester!”

“Aww are you going ‘chew him up and spit him out’?” Mocked Sam laughing.

“Argh. It was a gag gift for my dad!” She looked at them helplessly.

“Yeah something like that was mentioned.” Smiled Dean genuinely.

“My mom had a very quirky sense of humour and I almost always ended being used for embarrassing stuff.” She mumbled.

“You were so adorable though.” Said Dean pulling her into his arms. He could tell that she was very embarrassed and felt a little bad about teasing her.

“Shuttup.” She mumbled into his chest.

“It’s true. You were a cute kid, Y/N” Smiled Sam, patting her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you two morons found it.” She fake glared at them again.

Sam grinned, “we’re very glad we did.” He then excused himself to go take a shower.

“I meant it though, you were very very adorable. And you nailed that song, baby” Dean grinned wrapping his arms around her waist.

She shrugged at him still embarrassed. “I actually wanted to be a singer when I was 12.”

“Really?!” He asked surprised.

“Yeah. But a year later my parents died and I got thrust into the hunter life when Bobby found me.” Y/N said looking down.

Dean lifted her chin up and kissed her hard, “I think you’d have made a great singer." He said making you giggle.

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Ms Sugar Pink.” He smirked, earning a smack on the chest.

____________

That night as they laid in bed with Y/N resting her head on his chest, Dean began humming to the song. He suddenly felt a smack on the forehead.

“Oww! What was that for?!”

“We will never speak of or sing this song again.” She said glaring at him.

“It’s a catchy song, N/N!”

“Never! And make sure that brother of yours keeps his mouth shut before I do it for him.”

“Fine, fine.” Dean sighed. “Man you really popped my bubblegum heart” He whispered 5 seconds later earning another smack.

❅ ❅ ❅

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