#I will try to not tag stuff with sexy anymore
fenja's girlfriend reblogging one post from me about cheating in academia: #very sexy
the pornbots: oh???! let's all just follow museofnightmare
ksjfakj i got so many pornbots following me since yesterday, just because of your hashtag. please i am ace
Okay first of: I'm obsessed with being adressed as Fenja's girlfriend??! This should happen more frequently dlfjknwsefh
Second of: I'M SO SORRY I didn't mean to rile up the pornbots!
[ALSO NOT SHIPPING, THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS YOUR HONOUR]
i keep thinking about how, in private, away from absolutely anyone, phil and techno are probably a lot more open with each other?
like, i fully believe technoblade to be touch averse, but he puts full trust in this funny short anime man, and would not only not mind, but also Maybe encourage holding hands or hugging under very specific circumstances? he's not just a cold-blooded killer, he deserves all the comfort he can get from his best friend, and i do believe he seeks it when given a moment to breathe.
i strictly think they just love and trust each other enough for this kind of thing, however wack and out of character it may sound, but again, we usually only ever really see them with an extra around, or during big, bad events!
what about techno asking if phil wants a dandelion? giving only 3 emeralds as a joke, but naming them "friendship emeralds" before he actually did so? the overdone-to-death-but-i-dont-care "for you the world, phil"? "i dont want you to risk your life for my grudge" and "this is dangerous, i dont wanna lose you, phil"?
these guys would break down crying in an ungodly fit of bloody rage if ANYTHING happened to the other, and you cant convince me otherwise
(thats it thats the post)
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Rules: Answer 30 questions and tag blogs you know
I was tagged by @thatoneawkwardartnerd. Thanks, these are always fun to do
Star Sign(s): taurus sun, aquarius moon, sagittarius rising
Height: almost 5"4. Not that im still growing lol
Birthday: may 9th
Favorite Bands: mother mother, son lux, flora cash
Favorite Solo Artists: grandson, hozier, mitski, sub urban, the buttress, marina
Song Stuck in Head: flesh - simon curtis
Last Show: of my own volition: infinity train. What was on tv last time i was downstairs: black-ish
Last Movie: shrek 4
Blog Creation Date: sometime april 2020, but i had a blog before that. I think i started that one in mid 2018
Last Thing I Googled: hot guy pi
Other Blogs: i have @wind-dog2 for The Arcana content. I was embarrassed when i first got into that fandom so i made another blog to unabashedly spam TA stuff there. Im not really in that fandom anymore but im keeping it for now for the mutuals i have there.
I also have @wind-dog3 where i try to post stuff about my nonfandom ocs (but thats a lie; im gonna start posting about my infinity train ocs there soon :P). Im not That active there either because i don't want to like,,, annoy people in the oc tags lol. I really need to get over that
Asks: Ive gotten 3
One was a very positive message about how im strong and cool and good things are coming my way; ive just gotta keep an eye out for them
Another was in response to a post i reblogged and people were supposed to send me their (fake) card numbers and i had to tell them what i bought with their money
The last was someone asking me to explain the difference between tgt and soc in 3 words or less
URL Choice: i heard once that theres a dog breed where the dutch name for it translates directly into "wind dog". It was the first thing to come to mind when i made my first deviantart account and i couldn't be asked to think of a new one for anything else
Followers: 64 somehow??? Most of them aren't active though lol
Lucky Numbers: for some reason i used to love the number 47 So Much when i was younger (next in line was 64, then 72) so, that ig
Instruments: i learned how to play the recorder when i was 12 but i haven't been allowed to practice for 4 years; it annoys my mom. My grandfather gifted me a german zither from the 60s and an acoustic guitar + some sheet music, but ive never really had the chance to learn either instrument. I recently got a kalimba for my birthday and i can play You Are My Sunshine without looking at the tabs.
Clothes: im currently wearing a pair of grey jeans and a very thick dark grey hoodie thats fluffy on the inside
Dream Trip: idk, but the exam-year students are supposed to go to a weeklong trip to one of 5 major european cities, but we weren't able to do that this year (or last year for that matter). I feel a little betrayed by that
Favorite Food: i don't think i have a #1 favorite dish but i like poffertjes, quesadillas, and grilled cheese
Nationality: im dutch and (us)american
Favorite Song: idk but heres an ever-changing playlist of my favourites:
Last Book Read: the last book i finished was Between Perfect And Real by ray stoeve. Its very emotional lol
Im currently reading Mister Impossible by maggie stiefvater (first time; so far its one of my favorite series), Gideon The Ninth by tamsyn muir (2nd time; literally my #1 favorite series), and The Gilded Wolves by roshani chokshi (first time; ive seen a lot of mixed reviews but so far i really like it)
Top 3 Fictional Worlds to Live In: is it cheating to say my own? Uhhh the tlt world seems interesting wherever humans are. Id love to live on the infinity train, but you can't exactly choose to go on it
@motherscarf @inejs-sexy-knives @jacksope-lives @phlox06 and everyone else are now officially allowed to do this if you want
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ungodly hour ➝ part one
Chris Evans x Reader OFC! ( Zariyah Hawthorne )
Summary: in which Chris and Zariyah have to work alongside each other despite being exes.
Warning: Angst & Cursing
Word Count: 1K
Note: like, comment and reblog! 😁
WATTPAD LINK click here
October 9th, 2016 ➝ Los Angeles, California
"Alright, ladies. How does she look?" Hallie asks, pulling me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom.
"Yass, baby sis. You better work queen!" Zoey says, snapping her finger which made us all laugh.
The girls all gave me sweet compliments that made me feel good about myself.
I wasn't gonna lie, I looked amazing in this purple ruched, off the shoulders dress.
It was sexy, classy and it hugged every inch of my body. For the first time in quite a while.
I felt confident, especially after putting on my six-inch heels to match my classic nude lipstick.
"Alright now. You're meeting your blind date at Donatello" Hallie says, handing me my jacket and clutch purse.
“Have fun but not too much" She giggles. I rolled my eyes, taking my stuff and saying goodbye to the girls.
"Hello, Ma'am. Welcome to Donatello, do you have a reservation?' The hostess asks with a sweet smile.
"Yes, um it's probably under the name Colton. I'm his blind date" I said, looking down at the text.
She nods, motioning me to follow her.
"Yes, please follow me. He's already at the table waiting" She says walking swiftly for me to follow.
We stopped in front of a private table where a very handsome and well-put-together man was sitting, he was typing away on his phone.
"Mr. Colton, your date has arrived." He slowly looks up and grins charmingly as his green eyes connect with mine.
He kindly dismisses the hostess, while standing up to get a good look at me. He pulls my chair out for me.
"Thank you," I said, sitting down.
"You are very welcome," He says, sitting back in his chair and holding his hand out.
"I'm Zachary Colton"
"I know who you are and I'm Zariyah Hawthorne." I answered, gently placing my hand in his.
“Likewise!“ He says, planting a soft kiss on the back of my hand, I felt the inside of my cheeks heat.
His eyes glided to mine and a sly smirk crept on his face. I could tell he was a charmer.
I don't know why I agreed to do this blind date bullshit. I mean my blind date was hot, but she had nothing on Zariyah.
I sighed, looking around the restaurant, completely ignoring my date. When my eyes landed on her, she was here.
Zariyah was laughing while sitting across from a tall, built man. Her nude lipstick decorated her full lips and the dress she was wearing fit her body well.
Man, fuck her. She broke my heart and didn't give me a reasonable explanation on why.
"I’m gonna go talk to her," I said in my mind, scrambling to get up from my seat but my date grabbed my hand and stopped me.
"Where are you going?" She asks with a confused look. "Um, I'll be right back"
I truly thought Zach would turn out to be a self-centered asshole but he was a charming gentleman.
He was making me laugh so much that I had to excuse myself to use the bathroom.
I got up from the table and walked towards the ladies' bathroom, but before I could get there someone pulled me into a closet.
I tried to get out of the person's grip but I stopped when I heard their voice. I turned around and there he stood, wearing a navy blue suit.
We both didn't say anything, just intensely staring at each other until one spoke.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked with irritation.
"Zari, I need to talk to you" He says.
"There’s nothing to talk about" I said, trying to snatch my arm away from him, rapidly discovering that he was too strong to overpower.
"Zari!" He said my name softly, I tried my hardest to fight the tears but I couldn't.
"Get off of me, cheater. I'm not gonna cry over you," I said, gathering enough strength to push him away and wipe my tears.
Chris made a frown.
"Cheater? I never cheated on you, Zari. Is this why you broke up with me?"
"Oh stop, you know what you did. God, if you just wanted to fuck someone else, at least be a man, and broke up with me first"
"Zari, this is-" I cut him off.
"I'm not gonna fucking talking about it anymore. I'm done!" I said, about walking away but he stopped me when he said those three little words.
"I love you, Zari," He says. I turned back around and saw tears coming down his face.
"What did you say?"
"I said that I love you Zari and I'm telling you right now that I would never cheat on you. This is all a misunderstanding and I'll prove it to you." Chris says.
"I don't want you to prove anything, I just want you to leave me alone," I said.
Chris shook his head, not giving up so easily. "Please Zari," He says, quickly wiping his eyes.
"JUST LEAVE OKAY. I DON'T-Just go please," I whisper yells at him.
I couldn't even say I don't love him because I do, with teary eyes and slumped shoulders.
“Okay” He nods and walks out of the closet.
"Are you...okay?" Zachary asks as I take down my full glass of wine.
"Yeah, I'm perfectly fine," I said, licking my lips.
"Look, Zachary. I'm not looking for anything too serious, just looking to have fun. If you know what I mean"
Zachary was taken aback but quickly changed his expression into a charming smirk.
"Sure, I know what you mean. Do you want to get out here?" He asked and I nodded, calling the waitress for the check.
Zachary paid for dinner, I got out of my chair and allowed Zachary to guide me out of the door with his arm around my waist.
I could feel a pair of eyes staring at the back of my head as I was leaving with Zachary and I knew whose eyes it was but I don't care to look back.
IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED LEAVE A COMMENT OR HIT ME UP IN MY INBOX!!!!
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To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9
Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)
Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?
Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)
Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe
The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up.
The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."
Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."
"I am not an old wizard."
"I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."
"I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."
"Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"
"She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation.
In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer.
"I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh.
"Not your type?"
"I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."
He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."
"See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"
The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after.
As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her.
Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar.
"It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet.
"Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."
Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"
"Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."
"It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling.
"That your mother would forget about you?"
"I don't know. I just…. I don't know."
Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again.
"Are you ever coming home?"
"I…. I don't think that's home anymore."
"I miss you." He whispered.
Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"
"That would blow your cover."
"Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"
"I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."
It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."
He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."
"Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."
He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."
"Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."
"Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."
"You too, Abs."
"Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"
After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye.
"Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week."
With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense.
Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm.
"Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood.
"Um, working on inventory?"
"How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."
"Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"
Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."
"Yeah, I'd love to."
"Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."
"It'll be at least half an hour…."
Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."
"Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"
Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor.
"Are you joining us?" She called over.
"Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."
Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone.
Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."
"Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought.
"Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. "
Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again.
The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out.
"He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her.
In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right?
Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day.
Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment.
Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda.
"Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.
That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."
"And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"
The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish.
"Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench.
"Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips.
Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away.
For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush.
"Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda.
"Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again.
It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane.
Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"
"Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."
"Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show.
"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"
"Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow.
Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him.
"Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly.
It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more.
When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility.
"What's going on, Ivar?"
"Something with work."
"Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"
He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."
"That's why you're going to Italy?"
"Will you be safe?"
That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"
She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."
The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."
"Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him.
"Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."
"I promise. Not a word."
"Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."
"That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"
"Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold.
She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it.
He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle.
He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms.
With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips.
"You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers.
"Maybe take the next flight?"
"Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."
Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.
He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."
She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."
"Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment.
As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair.
"Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.
"I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."
"With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."
"Ivar…." She whined.
"You need more clothes, Kari."
"Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."
He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."
They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it.
"I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door.
"Okay. Be safe."
"Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."
She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.
Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked.
"Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her.
The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.
Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening.
Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors.
Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball.
Now her mind scrambled as what to do next.
A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her.
"Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
"Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer.
"Mind if I join you?"
She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts.
Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening.
"What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading.
She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."
"Isn't that a movie?"
She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."
He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"
"Nothing exciting. Yours?"
"The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."
She winced. "I know the feeling."
They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking.
The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.
"Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio.
Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive.
"What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work.
Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that.
"Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."
"Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."
"I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not.
"Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"
"Sorta. I'm not too hungry."
Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."
Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself.
Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze.
"Did I fuck you?"
What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"
Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"
Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut.
He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"
Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."
"Why? Because it's the truth?"
"You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face.
Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.
His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."
"Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly.
"Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk.
"A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."
"I was going to say intense."
Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family."
Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"
Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer.
"Ivar and I share her."
Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions.
"That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly.
"Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."
"Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today?
Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."
"I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."
"No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."
She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"
"You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."
"Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari.
Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him.
Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."
"What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.
"He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."
"What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."
"What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice.
"No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."
"So, what happened?"
"Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"
He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."
"Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."
"He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring.
"I'd recommend wearing one of those."
She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?"
"Buy me stuff."
"Does it bother you?"
"I don't know."
"If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."
She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?
"How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later.
He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."
"He's complex." She agreed.
"That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."
Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her.
Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."
He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."
"No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."
"You really don't care about our money, do you?"
"No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money?
He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"
"Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze.
He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."
"You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."
"Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."
She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."
"You keep telling yourself that."
They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors.
"What?" She looked up at him.
He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."
Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text.
Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.
A silly smile on her face, she replied.
Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.
After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.
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NOTE: QUEUED AND REUPLOADED REQUEST!
WATCH OUT!: [smut, teasing, dirty talk, cunnillingus, size kink, nicknames; senpai, deep throat, degrading(?), dumbification]
MATCHED: kirishima x fem!reader, denki x fem!reader
TAGGING;; @cherrytaye @ari-gumi @oh-nohoney @izukuuarchive @ttogaslut @eijishimas @peaxhcringe @bunnie-babey @satozai @sssjuico10 @attjmk @sickchildren @bunny-munchkin-luvs-music @heyheyitsne ;; to join the tag, check out my NAVIGATION
- he already has many kinks, and the senpai kink is one of his top 10.
- He doesn’t really mention it to you, because he doesn’t know if you’re really into that stuff
- This man loves to experiment with sex, he loves role-playing, blindfolding, handcuffs, and more
- He loves playing the role of a submissive guy, if you dom him— well he’ll cum instantly
- He learns all these kinks from porn, especially the senpai kink
- I’ll tell you this though, he writes down all his kinks in his notes, so that sex won’t ever be boring for both of you.
You were in the bedroom, and he was in the bathroom, taking a shower. You were just casually looking through his phone cuz you were bored. Till you just came across his notes out of curiosity. You saw a list saying ‘kinks to try with bae’, you cringed a bit but it was a bit funny.
Your boyfriend finished showering, he went inside the room, obviously wet, and had a towel around his waist, and another towel ruffling his hair. He heard you giggling so he looked up at you and saw you using his phone. He asked what were you looking at, you answered “I see... so you like to be called senpai?..”. His eyes widened in embarrassment, face went full red, but this man is flirty. Denki’s length started to grow, and you could his it thru the towel around his waist.
“O-oh.. so does this mean..” he says in a flirty tone, “sex time?”.. he smirked.
You giggled and replied “sure... I will do anything to make my senpai cum...”.
He threw away the towels, making him naked in front of you. You were laying down on the bed, but Denki wasn’t satisfied until you put on a school girl lingerie. You sighed and rolled your eyes “finee” you whined. While he was waiting for you on the bed, you were putting on the lingerie in front of him. Denki badly wants to touch his cock to you, while you were dressing up, his dick was full-on hard.
You finished putting it on, and he started to get ready, he was smiling from excitement. You smirked, crawling onto the bed to go to his hard cock. Denki looks down at you with a smirk, “you gonna give senpai a nice sloppy blowjob? Hmm?...”.
You nodded and licked the underside of his cock till the head, his brows furrowed in pleasure, him letting out a groan. “I’ll make you feel so good senpai~...” your hot breath on his cock while you spoke. You start sucking him off, one hand on his cock, while the other one on his balls, just kinda teasing it.
- after you sucked him off, let’s say he returned the favor.
- Saying things like;
- “I’d put on music, but your senpai doesn’t want to drown out the sounds of your sexy little moans...”
- “Fuck sweetheart.. Senpai can’t decide if your tits or your pussy are more delicious...”
- “Don’t stop me once you cum, because I’m planning on giving you multiple orgasms today, just trust your senpai..”
- When you’re getting railed,
- “S-senpai! Fuck me harder!” You moaned, missionary position.
- Your tits were bouncing every time he thrust deep inside you.
- “Say it louder sweetheart..” he starts giving you slow thrusts
- “Senpai! I-I’m begging you.. please! Fuck me harder..faster..” saliva falling off your mouth.
- He smirked and thrusts deep and fast, your eyes rolled and tongue out, loud moans escape your mouth.
- He starts to give you little kisses “senpai’s gonna make you feel..real good..okay sweetheart?” He groaned and leaves love bites all over your neck.
- he doesn’t really care that much about kinks, he just wants to have fun with sex.
- Though he would LOVE to try new things.
- This man likes nicknames,
- He likes to call you; babe, hubby, cutie, hot babe, and probs more
- What he likes to call you in bed; bitch, whore, slut, Fucktoy, fuckhole, cumslut, cum slave, filthy little cock-hungry cunt..and probs more,
- Now he never knew that he had a senpai kink, but when you called him senpai, his dick just went horny time.
“Yes, senpai!” You answered his question joyfully, smiling at him. His eyes widened and his face all flustered and red, he laughed nervously. He got turned on when you called him senpai, but he ignored it because he thought that it was just a one-time thing and that you won’t say it again.
The whole day, you saying ‘yes senpai’ is stuck in his head, he wants you to badly scream it in bed while he pounds you deeply.
You two were having a movie night, your head laying down on his lap while he was sitting down. You felt like the movie was getting boring so you wanted to tease him,
“Senpai...aren’t you getting bored..” you moaned, soon your fingers trail on his cock, leaving him to become really hard.
He looked down at you..smirking.
“Is there something wrong? Slut.” He chuckled. You start to rub his cock, “I want this so bad Senpai...~”.
“Oh?... fuck..you really are a slut..” he pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. “Now suck your Senpai’s cock..”, you smirked and licked the head, you put your two hands on his cock, it was so big that it needed two of your hands and your mouth to suck.
Your two hands were on his cock and your mouth sucking his cock, it couldn’t really fit your mouth. “That's right.. suck your senpai’s cock, such a good little slut..”,
He removed your hands off of his cock and pushed your head down, making you deepthroat on his thick cock.
Tears fall down your cheeks. Eventually, he sprays all his hot semen on your beautiful face.
- when it’s his turn to eat you up,
- Things he says;
- “Want to bet on how many times senpai can make you orgasm in one night?”
- “I can’t believe I get to call your beautiful body mine....”
- “Let senpai show you how much he loves you with his hips and lips....”
- “I turned on Netflix for you, but you might have trouble concentrating while my tongue is circling your clit....” he chuckled
- “I’m going to remember this fucking moment when I’m jacking off later....”
- When you’re getting fucked by his big cock;
- You were bent down on the couch, doggy style, his cock was pounding so deep that you can’t think anymore.
- “E-eji....ngh...a-ah!~” only moans fall out of your mouth.
- He pulled your hair to him, making a ‘C’ on your body. He starts to slow it down.
- “Damn...senpai’s slut can't even talk properly?.. such a dumb slut” he bites the nape of your neck, leading you to moan loud.
- He chuckled and pushed your head down to the couch with his hand, he starts doing slow and deep thrusts.
- “Who’s senpai’s good little slut?...”
- “A-ah I- a-am...” your moans overflowing your mouth.
- He slapped your ass hard, “say it properly.”
- “I-I’m senpai’s g-good ng...hh littl-e s-slut!!” You moaned, eyes rolling back while saliva goes down your mouth.
- He chuckled “now that’s a good fucking slut.. I want you to scream my name. Understand?”
- “Y-yes senp— ai!”, he starts to pick up the pace, pounding you deep, hard and fast, his balls slapping your clit every time he pounds you.
229 notes · View notes
What The Cat Dragged In [Cecil x Fem! Reader]
Summary: You’re a sex worker at the Starlight Inn Motel. Cecil stops by. [This is a fic from the Revenge For Jolly universe, but you needn’t have seen the film to enjoy this fic.]
Word Count: 8.7k
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug references, prostitution, cursing, crying, tiddy sucking, exchange of bodily fluids aka breastfeeding, mild violent thoughts towards Cecil, light on the smut, surprisingly heavy on the fluff? For Cecil? Who knew. 18+
Author’s Note: Been workin on this baby for a couple weeks, I was oddly inspired by @blackberries45 when she told me about a smut that grossed her out. lmao. Also, she made me this lovely moodboard! As always, thank you to @propertyofabelmorales for being my smut cheerleader and fellow demon. Also don’t expect this to be something you can sin to, put the vibe away and prepare for some feels.
tags are below, FEEL FREE TO IGNORE IF THIS IS NOT YOUR THING.
Bang Bang Bang
From your position on the cheap comforter of the Starlight Inn, you look over to the door- the source of the insistent knocking, as if the fire emergency sign could tell you who was on the other side. You weren’t expecting anyone, but it’s been a slow day and you’ll take whoever it is, even the cleaning lady. You know she’s got money. Especially if it’s the same bitch from the last time you were here, who definitely stole $40 from your leopard coat when you went out to Tommy’s. You turn down the volume on the tv and sweep your palms together to dust off the Cheeto residue. They really should have a less messy way to eat those things that doesn’t stain your fingers all red. Not exactly sexy for business.
“Just a minute!” You shout toward the door before they start banging again. Sounds more like a series of kicks than a knock from a fist and you hope whomever it is isn’t angry. You roll up the half eaten Cheeto bag and shove it in the side table drawer with the Gideon Bible. You straighten the duvet, for what reason- who knows. It’s probably not royalty at the door, but still. You wanna be presentable. You’re a professional, after all.
You check your teeth in the mirror sucking your tongue to the front of your teeth, and readjust your bra to push up your cleavage. Not as sexy as the stuff you used to wear, just a plain black one, good for nursing. Thanks to your post baby body, you went up a couple of cup sizes, it certainly wasn’t hurting business. You smooth out your short denim skirt, and give yourself a little pout and a wink in the mirror before opening the door.
Cecil. With an armful of beer. Yeah. An armful. Of PBR cans. You roll your eyes and shake your head. Well this certainly is no cash cow.
And he looks like shit. Looks like he’s been fucking crying by the looks of it. God, he sure is pretty, but what a lunatic. Certainly not the worst client you’ve ever had, but oh my god his shoes have no laces on them. You shake your head taking in the whole picture of him. Green canvas jacket, a couples sizes too big, dirty fingernails, gorgeous thick curls…. You try not to think about the curls.
You sigh, dropping your posture, dropping your lifted tits and shrug at him, “What the fuck are you doing here, Cecil? I’m working. You know? That thing most people have to do, that’s what I’m doing.”
He sniffles and attempts to wipe his nose on his shoulder, arms still laden with cans of beer. God he had been crying, hadn’t he? Either that or doing coke and you know for damn sure this shoelace-less fool does not have coke money. “I was hoping you’d be here. Tommy said you’d still be here. At the Starlight. Same room.”
You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe, “yep. Some things never change.” You nod to the PBR, “still trying to pay me in warm beer, asshole?”
He sucks in a breath and averts his eyes, “I have money.”
The thing about being a pro is your bullshit detector gets a fucking great workout and you know Cecil is full of shit, it’s almost cute how bad he is at lying.
“Cecil look at me.” You raise your eyebrows at him as his gaze meets yours and he gives you such guilty sad eyes you’re afraid he’ll start crying.
“Okay! uhhhh, okay, okay, I don’t have any money but I-“
You wave him a swift bye bye and go to close the door. Where he promptly sticks his fucking lace-less shoe between the door and the frame shoving his pretty face in the opening “Angel, please, I don’t have any money but I… don’t even want to fuck right now, I don’t, I swear I just wanna talk.”
Part of you wants to crush his stupid foot and face in the door. I mean it’s been a whole fucking YEAR with no word from him. But there’s something so specifically pathetic about Cecil and breaking his foot would be like kicking a homeless puppy. His words are desperate and… almost sound sincere. He might be telling the truth and you figure you owe it to him for history’s sake to hear him out.
You ease up on shutting the door, opening it just a smidge, not an invitation. “Okay, Cecil, against my better judgement I’ll bite. You didn’t come here for a fuck? Why’d you come? Huh? I don’t deal anymore. Not even pills. Not that you’ve got pill money anyway.”
He bites his bottom lip and you suddenly become suspicious that he’s putting on this wounded puppy act to talk his way into your pants… Not that you can blame him for trying, it’s fucking worked on you before, hasn’t it?
“Can I just. Uuurrghhh, can I just set these beers down, please? Can I come inside please and set these beers down I carried them all the way from Tommy’s.”
You don’t move. Serving him the same stare, full of suspicion. “Not my problem, Cecil.”
He stomps his foot a little, lips quivering into a frown and, fuck, this isn’t an act. He’s not that good, not cunning enough to play you like this. He truly is this pathetic. Crying in the hallway of the second worst motel in town, arms laden with the second cheapest beer from Wal-Mart, coat two sizes too big, and no damn shoelaces. He gulps and shifts on his feet, he attempts to wipe his eye with his shoulder and you just don’t have the heart to leave this shivering dog in the cold. Especially one as cute as Cecil. Besides, you’re fairly sure if you lock him out, he’d just howl outside the door all night. Or get shit faced in the hallway. Either way, driving away any clients…. You really don’t have a choice.
“I’m going to regret this, but okay,” you sigh, flicking the door open wide, turning your back to him and strutting over to the bed. You plop down in your spot against the headboard and unfasten your hoop earrings. End of the night, it seems. Fucking Cecil, filling up your dance card again without so much as a down payment. “But you sit in the chair. No funny stuff, I’m not in the mood.” You set your earrings down on the night table and bend to unbuckle your heels. Might as well get comfortable, no one here to impress. “You can put your beer in the fridge if you want.” You gesture to the short icebox under the TV.
“Well look at that, they got a fridge in here now. Did you do that?” He crouches and opens the box, putting five cans inside. Rising and turning, he tosses a can to you, it lands on your lap perfectly, you regard it for a moment before setting it on the nightstand next to your earrings. It’s fucking warm anyway. You shake your head. “Yeah, I uh, actually got Randy to put it in here. Since I’m here so damn often and all. He thought it was such a swell idea, he got one for all the rooms.”
Cecil cracks his beer and takes a long sip, it burns your throat and twists your stomach a little to hear him take such a long pull on a such a warm fucking beer. You try, you really try not to look at his Adams apple bobbing, but you fail and at least you refrain from licking your lips. Instead you shake your head and bring your feet up on the bed, crossing your ankles.
He smacks his lips and lowers himself into the chair and kicks off his loose shoes easily. Cecil has never been one to make himself a stranger. “Well, some things do change, I guess. Never thought Randy’d be the type to give a shit. What do you know?” He seems better already, a smile cracking across his face, he brings the beer up to his lips for another pull and you wonder why he bothered to put any in the fridge at all if he’s clearly going to down the lot in the next 10 minutes.
“Yep” you mutter lazily, grabbing the remote and flicking to the tv guide channel. “Randy’s going soft on us. Next thing you know he’ll be getting me health insurance.” Cecil nearly chokes on his beer at your joke, emitting the dorkiest chuckle. You try to hide your grin. You kinda missed the puppy dog. You glance over at him, you grab the beer from the night stand and toss it to him. “I’m not going to drink it, here.” He catches the can but his face is marked with confusion.
“Too warm?” He cracks the can and brings it to his lips. Eyeing you warily, as if refusing alcohol is a sign you’re actually a pod person and you’ve been fucking body snatched.
You breathe in a heavy breath. You didn’t want to bring it up out of habit. It’s not something you like telling clients, they always look at you with pity. These creeps and losers and dive barflies. Pity. Psssh. Well… it’s not like Cecil is exactly a client, per say, he’d have to pay you for that title. You regard him for a moment and slap your palms to your thighs. “I’m not drinking right now because I’m… I’m breastfeeding, and if I drink, I gotta pump and dump and it’s a whole ordeal that I’m not going through for a couple of warm PBRs. A nice scotch, maybe. But” you nod in his direction “nah”. You look back at the TV guide channel hoping that your casual tone is enough to not bring about a torrent of questions.
“Breastfeeding? You’re pregnant?” Cecil says reverently. You close your eyes and you can feel them rolling to the back of your head.
“No I’m not fucking pregnant, dumbass. I’m breastfeeding, which means I was pregnant, and now I have a baby. That I feed. Get it?” Cecils eyes go wide and he sets the beer on the tabletop and scans his eyes around the room.
“Where- where is he? She?”
“Um not here! Jesus, Cecil, you think I’d bring a baby to work with me?” You cross your arms and flare your nostrils. You dimly register that you shouldn’t be so aggressive with him, he’s just a stupid bastard who means well. You can tell by the concern etched all over his forehead.
His eyes go wide, “What… what happened to him? Her?”
You tilt your head at him. The worry in his puppy dog eyes. He’s very obviously invested in the welfare of this baby he knows nothing about. You remember him being this way about tv shows too, watched in this very room; seeing something particularly sad in a docuseries or on the news…he’d always make comments about things most people brushed off or were too self absorbed to consider. And what’s fucking sadder than a whore’s baby? A strong memory pops up of him crying watching animal planet with you: baby sea tortoises were making their way to the ocean from their beach hatchings; getting swooped up by seagulls on the journey from the sand to the water, he was practically in hysterics when the narrator said only one in fifty babies would make it past the breakers. You breathe sharply out of your nose in a half laugh at the memory of you patting his back, him crying into your shoulder, cursing the seagulls, you remember thinking you weren’t charging him nearly enough for this shit.
You loosen up your crossed arms till your hands fall to your lap. "He… is at my parents place.”
Cecil nods at you, waiting for you to continue. Leaning towards you, elbows on his knees.
“Uhhh, they’ve been taking care of him for the most part. Making sure I’m clean. They keep giving me piss tests… I stay with them, when I’m not here. I’ve been off the hard stuff ever since I found out I was pregnant… I’m keeping off it too, ‘cause I’m breastfeeding.” You bite your top lip. Cecil doesn’t move a muscle besides nodding again, beautiful full lips curved out. He’s so damn earnest, it’s easy to be honest with him. He’s so fucking vulnerable it’s tough to be tough around him. “I… you know I’m actually really grateful for him, for Simon… for needing to feed him, because, through the pregnancy, through 'til well, now. I’ve needed to stay clean for someone else. And I have. And I feel good, really good, Cec.” You nod at him, a little shocked by your honesty. You give him a little smile.
He rubs his chin, same dumbstruck expression, he closes his mouth, gulps and nods towards your chest. “Thats why your tits are so big.” You laugh and a great big grin breaks out across his face and he guffaws so heartily. “thought you had work done!” You bite your bottom lip and toss a pillow at him, he blocks it with his forearm.
He smiles at you warmly, glassy eyes squinting from sincerity. “Congratulations, Angel, I’m really really happy that you’re feeling good. You deserve to feel good.” He smacks his lips and takes the beer off the table taking another long pull, he burps and pounds his fist to his chest. “You always make me feel good. You’re really good at that, Always so nice to me.”
You scoff and give a high pitched laugh, “Cecil, I’m not that nice to you.”
He runs a hands through his messy curls. Don’t think about the curls. “Nicer to me than anyone else around here… I missed you. Thought about you a lot while I was away.” His stare becomes distant and takes another sip of his beer.
You clear your throat, “where were you? I mean, I heard things, you went away… like to a hospital?” You squint at him, people talk, they always fucking talk and you learned you can’t trust people as far as you can throw them. But the stuff they said about what happened with Cecil a year ago, well it made fucking sense. The man needed help.
He shakes his head and drags his hand through his thick hair again. Stop. Stop thinking about it. He lets out a shaky breath and you think he might cry again with that pained look in his eyes, “I.. I um” he blinks rapidly and you try to offer him that same look of concern he gave to you when asking about Simon. “I had some trouble, you know, and I had to go away. I went away and… and it was good for me, you know. I needed it.” He presses his lips together and you’re sure he’s going to fucking cry now. “Its been so… so fuckin… I don’t know which way is up sometimes, you know. And I’m sorry I didn’t get to, you know, say goodbye or tell you where I was, I just- needed to…” He laughs suddenly, mirthlessly, and shrugs his shoulders before burying his face in his hands.
You wanna reach out and pat his shoulder. Tell him it’s going to be alright. The same way you want to pet a puppy thats about to be put down.
“I-I know I… I don’t have any money.” He holds his palms up, tear tracks down his silly pretty face. “But, but how much is it to just hug you, Angel?” He sniffs and his bottom lip quivers and you nearly sob yourself at the wretched sight.
You shake you head and pat the space on the bed next to you. “C’mere, Cee.” You think he might break apart with the relieved sob that eeks out of his chest. He slowly bends forward to stand and makes his way to the bed. He curls up next to you on the cheap duvet burying his face in your lap and you pet his luscious dark curls that you most definitely shouldn’t be thinking about. He shakes a hot sigh into the fabric of your denim skirt and you pretend to watch the menu of the TV Guide but are so helplessly and utterly thinking about his curls as they glide through your fingers.
“Shhh, Cee. It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay.” This has got to be an effect of fucking motherhood, right? The nurturing hormones. Maybe not. You remember a year ago, holding him just so, comforting him about the fucking sea tortoises. And it feels like no time has passed. No time at all. You’re suddenly very grateful for the fact that Cecil is here. That you can hold him. That you can make him feel better, and it just feels like an uncomfortable mix of all the shit your addiction counselor has been telling you. That life is about these moments right here; being present, being grateful for the opportunity to be here for someone else. And this someone else just happens to be Cecil, this man who is so obviously in need. You close your eyes and breathe deeply, continuing to pet his hair, shushing him. Because he needs this. Needs this more than you need $80 for a quick fuck from a John that wont come tonight. “It’s okay, Cecil. You’re alright, baby. Everything is going to be okay.”
Cecil grips you, but not in a demanding way. He holds you preciously.
“I… I missed you, Angel. I really did. I wrote you letters, wrote you when I was away, but I- I tossed em.” He shifts on the mattress and burrows further into your lap, none of it feels sexual. It just feels like he wants to hide, like he wants to crawl so far away from his problems, somewhere warm and safe where they can never find him. You know the feeling.
“It’s okay, Cecil. Really. It’s okay. Shhhhh.” You pet those forbidden curls. You even bend over and kiss his temple. Total mothering instinct, right?
He turns over, onto his back, his head in your lap, and looks up at you. So pathetic, you nearly want to put him out of his misery. He sniffs like a little boy and drags his dingy green sleeve across his nose for good measure. “You’re a mom now. That’s… wow, thats fucking wild.” He giggles and you think he must be a little stoned. Whatever. You smile at him and nod.
“How old is he? Simon.”You don’t know if he’s asking out of politeness or sincerity… but you do know, there’s nothing about Cecil that’s fake, you know that at least that by now.
Another heavy breath. Out of practice. “He’s four months old.”
Cecil nods like he knows anything about 4 month old infants and asks you in all seriousness, “Can he talk?”
You stare into his red glassy eyes for a moment before responding. “No. Not yet. He’s pretty useless right now. He just eats, shits, cries, and sleeps.”
Cecil laughs out of his nose, “sounds like me”.
“Yeah, but you’re pretty good at talking, too.”
“Do you know… um, do you know who the father is?”
Your expression turns grim. Even as stupid as Cecil is, he should know, from obvious fucking context clues, that you have no idea. You’re a whore. The potential paternity test candidates would put every bitch on Maury Povich to shame.
You shake your head. “No. I don’t. And as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t have one. Also, it’s none of your fucking business, Cecil.”
You know he doesn’t deserve the vitriol you’re spitting at him. Fuck, in the reverse position, you’d be asking the same fucking questions.
“I’m sorry, okay, I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… I just…” he rubs your shin with one hand and his eyes seem to be very focused on your knees. “If… it was. If he was…” he switches his gaze and looks into your eyes with such god damn purpose. “I’d want to help you. Any way you’d let me.”
You swallow any sentimentality right down your god damn throat. “Well, Cecil, it’s not. He’s not.” You bite back those traitorous tears and give him a firm nod. “He’s mine. Just mine. And I don’t want you to ask me about him any more.”
Cecil nods in the affirmative and stares at you for a long silent time, a hiccup of his breaks the silence and he sits up. "I’m going to get a beer. Save my seat.” He points at your lap making his way over to the little fridge.
“Get me one too.”
He jerks his head back and blinks at you. “You can’t, remember? You gotta… pump and dump? Isn’t that what you said? I don’t know what the fuck that means but… it sounds horrible.”
“Just toss me a beer, Cee. Let me worry about it.”
He holds up his hands in surrender before he tosses you a semi-cool beer, landing in the same spot on your lap as the one previously.
“Whatever. It’s your pregnancy.”
“I’m not pregnant, idiot.” You huff out, cracking the can and making room for him to rest his head on your lap once more. How the hell is he going to drink his beer laying down?
He climbs back onto the bed and nuzzles into your lap, making himself right at home. He is, admittedly, really god damn adorable like this. His can of beer abandoned at the foot of the comforter. You chug the shit beer, trying to get it down your gullet before it gets any warmer. You down the whole thing faster than you can remember ever having done before. Damn, maybe your body was calling out to it.
“Giddy up, cowgirl!” Cecil praises beneath you. You have the sudden urge to crush the can against his skull, but you don’t do it. He’s really not so bad with those big brown eyes staring at you… which you only now register are as dangerous to think about as the god damn curls.
He shifts and grabs the can from the foot of the bed, passing it to you. “Think you deserve this more than me.” He winks at you with his whole damn face and its a weirdly soft gesture for him to make. You curl the tab under your middle finger, savoring the hiss and crack of the carbonation.
You lick your lips. “So,” you take a long pull from the lukewarm can and burp “did you really walk all the way here from Tommy’s? Just to see me?”
In an odd display of insecurity, Cecil buries his head in your exposed thigh and plays with the pilled fabric of the cheap duvet. “I did. I walked here from fucking Tommy’s” his hot muffled speech makes you giggle and you take another long pull on the beer.
“With an armful of PBR?”
“And you weren’t trying to fuck me?”
He turns back around, forbidden curls resting in your seated lap, and he crinkles his nose. “No. No, Angel, I’m not tryna fuck you. I just… I just wanted this.” And he throws his arms around your middle and buries his nose in your navel. “I missed you so much. When I was away. And now I get to hold you and I don’t wanna let go.” He clutches you tighter and you wanna eject right out of your body. You don’t know why exactly. The tight intimacy he’s giving you isn’t a fuck or a smack on the ass or a hand to the throat, but it makes you almost nauseated and you wish the feeling were as simple as any of those clear violations so you’d have a reason to be upset.
You push his arms down your sides to loosen his grip. You don’t verbally acknowledge his sentiment. Instead, you drain the rest of the PBR and toss the can to the ground. That bitch can clean it up tomorrow with her $40 tip.
Cecil is kissing your clothed belly and rubbing your back and the only thing you can feel is fury. He’s trying to weasel his way into a fuck. You fucking knew it. This may have worked on you in the past, that smile, the kisses to your navel, those damn stupid curls, those puppy dog brown eyes. But it’s not working tonight because you aren’t the same stupid girl he knew last year. You smack the side of his dumb curly head pretty fucking hard. Hard enough to earn a “aaaaahhhh!”
Cecil rubs his head and sits up, taking his hands off you, but not leaving the bed.
“Angel?! What the hell?!”
“The fuck you think you’re doing, Cecil?!”
“We were having a moment!”
You laugh, “oh no no no! You, you were having a moment. Trying to weasel way in, like you always fucking do.”
He leans back, further distancing himself from you and wipes his nose with his grungy jacket sleeve. “That what you think of me?” He chews on his bottom lip and you don’t even have the courage to look him in those mangy mutt big brown eyes. “No. No, Angel, no.” He licks the back of his molars before continuing, “every time. Every time something happened between us was because we both wanted it. I never tricked you. I never weaseled in. I like you and you like me. And fucking…. Fucking is just what happens when two people like each other. I’m sorry you got it all fucked up with money now. But that’s not me.”
You’re shocked by his words, and instinctually you try to grab for one solid memory that disputes what he’s saying. But you’re coming up with nothing… he’s right, and Cecil might be a lot of things, he might be broke and dumb, but he is no fucking liar. And he might not even be as dumb as you think he is because he clearly reads everything happening on your face right now.
“I’m not trying to get in your panties. I’m not. I really… I really fucking missed you. You don’t even know. I named my cat after you.”
“Yeah. They gave us cats when we were in there. Something to look after. And I didn’t give a shit, you know, not at first and then… she kind of looked like you. She had your eyes… kind of, and her hair reminded me of your hair… and I-I named her after you.”
A stray dog with a pet cat. How fucked up. He reaches tentatively for your hand and you let him hold it with both of his. They’re surprisingly warm, like his eyes.
“Walked all the way here from Tommy’s, huh? Just to hold my hand.”
“Just to hold your hand.” He kisses your fingers and scoots closer to you. The proximity is… nice.
“What’s with the shoes?” You jerk your thumb over to his discarded laceless shoes by the table.
“Oh, they misplaced my shoelaces. At the place. When they discharged me this morning they gave me my shoes without the laces. Makes no sense.” He shrugs like he’s as baffled as you are. And you are baffled. Not because of the laces, but because he was discharged this morning and… he came here? His first night of freedom and he comes to see… you? Now, you don’t mind Cecil, but you don’t hold back on the “moron” and “idiot” and “dumbass” monikers. And it’s just outright baffling he’d pick this way to spend his evening. Instead of with Harry who he hasn’t seen in a fucking year, or at Tommy’s or, hell, even with a pro who might’ve boned him in exchange for the warm beer.
You bring your hand to his cheek and rub his stubble with your thumb. Still trying not to think about those tragically brown eyes as he closes them and leans into your touch. He hums against your palm and kisses it. He squeezes his eyes together really tight like he’s trying to remember the word for something or trying to hold onto a dream and he asks you, “can I rest my head on your shoulder, Angel? Would that be okay?”
His face looks pained and you wrap your fingers around the nape of his neck and bring his head down to your cleavage. You know he asked for a shoulder, but god damn if ever a lonely sap needed to rest his head on a pair of tits, it was this poor fool. The sigh he breathes out is so whiny you snort a little and shake your head. His arms snake around your middle and you don’t have any urge to loosen his grip. He’s not holding you too tightly, he’s rubbing you very gently with his, yes, slightly dirty, hands. It’s sweet and you can feel his warm breath on your cleavage when he asks “are you sure this is okay?”
Your eyebrows knit together, you know its been a whole year, but you don’t remember Cecil being so unsure like this, so whiny, and you have to imagine the life he’s been living for the past year hasn’t been great- like no shit, he’s been on the verge of tears since you opened that door, but no, even before that, right? He had to have been crying, arms laden with beer, walking over here, all down Florin street, in the fucking dark. Heels snicking out of his lame shoes.
When you bend your head to inhale his scent, he smells like PBR and cheap soap. You do it like on instinct. Smelling him the same way you do to Simon’s head.
You smooth his curls with your palms, soothing him from his forehead to the nape of his neck and he chokes out a little sob, just a tiny one, like a hiccup. He flexes around you for a split second and presses a quick kiss to your chest.
“Yeah, that’s okay Cee.”
You can feel his smile over your heart and the cheeky bastard kisses your chest again, this one a little slower. “That okay?”
You slap his shoulder lightly and roll your eyes up to the yellowed ceiling.
Oh what the hell. Who were you? Who were you to deny this man a little affection, when he so obviously needs it? When you so obviously need it.
“Yeah, Cee. That’s okay too.” You settle back fully against the headboard and Cecil shifts too. Propping up to give himself more of a direct contact approach with the tops of your tits. He kisses the exposed parts of your chest with reverence, with absolute tenderness, every kiss taking about 5 full seconds. You have never, you’re pretty damn sure, have ever been kissed like this before. He’s not groping you either, he’s propping himself up with one hand and the other is resting on your low back, rubbing little circles with his thumb. He lets his lips graze side to side, delicately, breathing you in.
“Mmmm. You smell so nice, Angel. Like flowers and laundry. I love that smell.” He buries his face in the valley of your cleavage and inhales deeply, his voice is muffled, “I don’t remember you smelling this good.” He kisses the same spot between your tits over and over again.
“Probably because I stopped smoking last year too.” You rub his back lazily. You don’t want to look at him, at his pretty eyes or the top of his fluffy hair, so instead you look at the little police chase happening in one quarter of the screen of the TV guide channel. He grips your shoulder and kisses your neck.
“You stopped smoking for Simon, huh?”
“You’re a good mom. Your son, he is lucky to have you.”
You tear your eyes away from the TV to look down at him, despite knowing what you’ll find; his head resting on your chest, liquid brown eyes and lovely curved lips. The scrape of his facial hair feels so nice on your soft skin, you close your eyes and hum. His fingers make their way to the neck of your tight, low cut top and he tugs the material down just a little to give himself a tiny bit more access to you.
You keep your eyes closed and nod, bringing your fingers up to his head and engcouraging his kisses by rubbing his scalp. It’s somehow much easier to enjoy this without looking at him.
“Lift your arms, baby.”
You lift your arms and Cecil easily pulls the top over your head. You drop your arms, eyes still closed, you think you hear him… fold? The shirt? What did they do to him in that hospital?
“You’re so beautiful, baby. So beautiful. Even more beautiful than I can remember. You know,” he brings his face back to the valley of your chest and he starts to fumble with the bra clasp behind your back. “I had to jerk off to my imagination for the past whole year. They don’t give you porn in there. I got really…” he unclasps the bra and it’s instantaneous relief, “good at it.”
The cool air hits your nipples and you can feel them perk up, you can also feel that you’re leaking a tiny bit, Its been a little while since you pumped and you’re fairly certain Cecil’s crying activated your “feeding time” response.
He pulls the bra off you and folds(?) it before sweeping a thumb across your wet nipple. “Oh wow. Oh my god.”
Judging by Cecil’s voice and the sweeping motions he’s making with his thumb, you’re pretty sure he falls in the camp of “fuck yeah” with your condition. Some clients don’t like it at all, the milk, and prefer you keep the bra on, some don’t mind and just wipe up whatever happens to dribble on them during the act and then a select few are actively into it and it shouldn’t surprise you that Cecil is one of them. Orally fixated, in need of a good hug, a born nuzzler.
“Can I… can I taste you? I won’t take much, I swear I don’t want to take food away from your baby, but…. Can I taste you?” He asks you so carefully like he’s talking around a rising soufflé, like the wrong word might make you deflate, slap him, and put your bra back on.
You laugh and reach out blindly for his head, bringing his mouth to your nipple. You gasp when he latches on and you moan from the sensitivity. It’s so different, it’s so so god damn different when you get sucked by him compared to a baby, it’s just a whole different experience. With Simon it’s love and quality time, it’s bonding, it’s nurturing, you make Simon feel safe and he looks at you like you hang the stars… This, this is fucking different. This is thigh trembling, lip quivering. This is lava flowing in your stomach.
You scratch the back of his scalp lightly. “Taste as much as you want, I needed to pump anyway, you’re actually doing me a favor.” Your chuckle turns into a whine when he swirls his warm tongue around your peak. So fucking sensitive. “Ah, fuck Cee, that feels really fucking good.” You’re resting the back of your head against the wall, eyes closed, and you’re in heaven. It’s not.. making you horny exactly, it feels more like a great relief, like the world’s best foot rub or back scratch or something. With every suck it just keeps feeling better and better. Well maybe you’re a tad horny. He’s just sucking with such fucking care and he’s moaning too, at the taste, the taste he wanted to try so badly.
He sucks harshly and your nipple falls from his lips with a pop. “Oh, baby. That’s so so good. It’s so… sweet, I didn’t think it’d be sweet. Is that all women or just you?” He rubs his thumbs along the underside of each of your breasts, he doesn’t go back to sucking so you open your eyes. He appears to be… looking back and forth between your tits and mutters, “Can I try the other one?”
What a fucking dork. “I think they’re the same flavor.” You almost tack on a ‘dumbass’ to the end of your statement, but you decide against it. After all, you’re ‘nicer to him than anyone else’. What a trip.
“We’ll see about that”, he wiggles his eyebrows and shucks off his jacket, leaving his arms bare in a plain grey undershirt. He tosses the jacket to the chair he was sitting at earlier and misses.
“Here, scoot forward a little,” he reaches behind you to prop up a few pillows. “Okay, lay back.” You’re at a nice 45 degree recline, head and back supported by the pillows. “Comfy?” You nod. Cecil grins and lays himself across your bare torso, mouth latching onto your other nipple with a satisfied moan. Fuck, sweet relief. It’s like he’s sucking all the tension out of your body. Its been a LONG fucking time since you’ve felt so… appreciated? You, almost instinctively, curve your arm around Cecil’s head, soothing his curls away from his forehead and you allow yourself to look at him. Really look at him. He’s sucking at you, so slowly and deliberately, like he’s trying to savor you, like the intentional kisses he rained on your chest earlier. He’s drinking from you like he was telling the truth, like he really did just come here to hold you. And he is holding you. One arm underneath you and the other resting on your ribcage, dragging his fingers in a curling and unfurling motion. He could be shoving that hand down your panties if he wanted to, you probably wouldn’t stop him if he did. But he’s not. His eyes are closed and his lovely long lashes rest on his cheeks. He’s humming with contentment, not moaning with pleasure, hot breath fanning your chest loud and sharp through his nose. His lips looks so fucking pretty, pursed around your peak and he uses his teeth just the tiniest bit with his tongue on your bud and the pleasure from his gentle scrapes makes your breath a little shaky.
You drag your nails across his scalp and twist his locks lazily between your fingers. You thank him in your mind for keeping those eyes closed because despite selling your body on a daily basis, you’ve never had so much real intimacy in your life, and you don’t think you could physically contain another ounce of it. And you know, you just know if he looks up at you from this position, you might just fall in love with him.
This is like being back on the good stuff, the buzzing in your head, the stunted sucking sounds are just primitively soothing like being high and the last time you felt like that was a whole little lifetime ago. And that was a manufactured euphoria. This one is the real deal, meaning of life type shit. And you want to cry it feels so good. You think he’s going to do something to fuck it up, he’s going to say something stupid to shatter the humming glowing feeling in your brain. But he doesn’t. Cecil rubs his stubble on your breast and diligently drinks from you while he holds you and you hold him.
He opens his eyes and releases your nipple from his wet mouth, “I think this side is sweeter.” He grins with all his teeth, you bite your bottom lip and drag his head by the curls to your other breast. He’d drank enough from one side and you need him to even it out.
“Better make sure of that,” you stroke his cheek bone reflexively and he’s sucking with his mouth, but laughing with his eyes. They’re all crinkled and you look into them. Into those coffee eyes soften, the folds that formed with mirth smooth out with every passing moment your eyes lock with his. They turn big and round and become a very familiar pair of eyes. And it’s not so different at all. That look that Cecil gives you is so familiar and you wonder if there aren’t permanent bonding chemicals in the milk or something because the warmth in your brain, that buzzing, has seemingly turned in Cecil’s favor very quickly. Not 30 freaking minutes ago you were thinking of smashing his pretty face in the door and now look at that face, those honest tear-tracked eyes… Love. Fucking love staring up at you. You’ve still got your skirt and panties on, but this is a whole new naked you’re feeling. Not like a lack of clothes, but like you don’t have any skin. Big brown eyes you can’t swim out of, and-
then your fucking phone rings just in time, breaking the little spell. Thank God.
You tap his cheek. “Would you get that, for me please? It could be my mom about Simon.” You weren’t worried about Simon explicitly, but you always worry about him at like a base level amount- especially when you’re apart. Something about having a kid just puts all these nightmare scenarios in your head sometimes about the scariest shit, and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy another second of Cecil without calming that fear. Plus it’s never a good idea to ignore a phone call from mom; you’ve been clean for nearly a full year, but she still doesn’t trust you completely and you don’t exactly blame her. She’s been known to call at this hour just to hear your voice: to make sure you’re not doped out.
Cecil unlatches from you with a little petulant groan and gets up to retrieve your phone from where its charging by the TV. It has stopped ringing by the time he reaches it. He unplugs it and freezes. His back is to you, you know he’s holding your phone and is head is down and he’s not moving a muscle. The fuck is he doing?
“Cecil. Give me my phone…. Please.” You tack it onto the end, for some reason you have a desire to be at least a little kinder to the guy.
Still nothing. He’s like a human dial-tone with the response he’s giving you. What could he even be looking at? Its not like he knows your password and he’s looking at all the fucking relentless dick pics past clients seem to think it’s sexy to send you…. All he would be able to see is the date, the time, the number that just called, and the lock screen- oh… oh.
“Cecil. Phone. Please.” Your voice comes out a little nervous. A little hesitant. But still trying to maintain control of the situation.
He turns around and you should have suspected he’d be at it with the water works again. Of course. He’s going to make this about him, isn’t he? Selfish fuck. You hold out your hand and let him know with your expression and tone that you’re not going to put up with his little wounded animal act. “Cecil. Give me my goddamn phone.”
After a few blinking moments and a particularly pitiful pout Cecil puts the phone in your outstretched hand. He paces over to the table and back to the TV, then round to the closet, coving every inch of carpet in his socked feet, hands clutching at his curls; looking like he needs another year back at the hospital.
The missed call isn’t from your mom, it was a spam call and you really fucking regret having Cecil pick it up for you. If some robot routed from Minneapolis hadn’t just called you, you’d probably be making out on the bed with Cecil right now, kissing those pretty, warm lips and grinding into his thigh. That was the next step, and though you denied it before, you knew it. Instead he’s crying and pulling his hair out.
“Cecil, sit down.” You sigh. “Get yourself a beer and sit the fuck down.”
Cecil doesn’t appear to have heard you. He does stop clutching his curls, he drops his hands to his sides, palms out in a defeated stance. His voice is cracked and feeble. He’s not angry. He’s… sorry.
“Of course you didn’t fucking tell me. Why? Why would you tell me? I wouldn’t tell me. Look at me, fuck. Fuck.” He plants himself in his chair by the table, his hands go back to his hair and clutch at the curls and he laughs for a moment. “I don’t have a car, I don’t have a job, fuck, I’m fucking crazy and oh yeah, look at that, I don’t even have any shoelaces.” He kicks the shoe temperamentally and it thunks against the nightstand. “I don’t have a shoelace to my name, no shit, no fucking shit you didn’t tell me about him…. Fuck.” He buries is face in his hands. “He looks… He looks…”
Cecil is unable to finish the sentence, but you know what he’d say if he could. That Simon looks like him. You weren’t sure at first, who he looked like, but in this past month, Simon’s curls have really come in. They’re especially prominent in the photo on your lock screen. As are the large deep eyes. And the timeline just… adds up. He was already a front-runner before the attributes manifested themselves. Besides, there aren’t too many other clients you’ve let use the Pull And Pray method of birth control.
You want to comfort him, but you really don’t know how he must be feeling. What combinations of words will make anything better? This was never part of the plan. You promised yourself you’d be doing this all on your own. Plus he had been gone. The whole damn time. You didn’t know if he’d ever show back up at your door. Didn’t even give him the credit to think this would even mean anything to him. You feel pretty small for that. Considering how much having Simon has meant to you. Cecil is not some rabid dog on the porch who should be watching the warm glow of love through the wrong side of the glass on a bitter cold night… he should get the chance to feel that too, right?
“Cee, come here.”
He shakes his head slightly.
“Please?” You don’t expect your voice to break the way it does and the sound makes him look at you. He must see something in your face because he makes his way over to the bed and goes back to his spot with his head in your lap. You think you should put your bra back on for this conversation, but you’re actually very fucking comfortable like this, especially with the weight of Cecils head on your lap and his hand reaching around to rub your low back.
You smooth his hair and he leans into the touch, giving a little shaky breath. Poor guy must be exhausted, helluva fucking eventful day for him.
“So,” you clear your throat, wanting to choose your words carefully. “I don’t know for sure that he’s yours… obviously, I never had you or anyone take a test or anything-“
“I’ll take any test you need me to take, I’ll do it right now.” His muscles tense like he’s prepared to hop up from your lap, however many beers deep, and go to a doctors office at 1am.
“You don’t… uh, Cecil, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. Okay, I’m not saying you’re a bum, I’m not saying that, I’m saying it was my decision to keep Simon. So I live with that. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate now. A lot to figure out. And I’m not asking you for child support or anything, okay.” You keep smoothing his hair and rubbing his cheeks and beard with your thumb.
“I want to take the test.”
You pause for a moment to appreciate that there’s no going back now, that depending on the result, the trajectory of Simon’s life and upbringing is going to change dramatically if you agree to this. “Okay, Cee. You can take the test.”
Cecil grips your hips with his bare golden arms and pushes his face into your navel “I hope he’s mine.”
Your chin trembles and you try to fight it, but before you know it, you’re the one fucking crying now. A sob rips out of you and it’s big and ugly.
Cecil hears your sob and sits up and for the first time tonight he’s the one cradling you. He props you so you’re tucked safely under his arm and you huddle close to his chest. You release your tears into the material of his ribbed grey shirt. You’re just so… fucking relieved. You’ve had to pretend to be this strong single parent for so long. You act out this story with everyone, you play the bad bitch, just you against the whole fucking world but maybe you just needed to cry and be told with lips and eyes and arms and words- that you are wanted.
“Shhh, shhhh.” He’s smoothing your hair with his big warm palm and rocking you just a little, and it is actually very reassuring- it’s a great testament to why the motion works on Simon when he’s crying and you laugh a little at yourself for feeling like such a baby.
“I don’t want to take the test.” His words don’t match how tenderly he’s cradling you and your brow creases in confusion.
“You don’t have to, Cee, I already told you. We will be fine.” You know he’s flopping back and forth here, but the man just got out of a freaking mental hospital and for all you know his mental state could be the result of an anti-psychotic mixed with an armful of PBR.
“No, no, no.” he grabs your face and cradles you cheeks in his hands, looking at you with those deep warm eyes. “I don’t want to take the test because… I know. I want him to be mine. Okay, is that okay with you? I don’t want to be wrong. I… I see how good it’s been for you, taking care of him and I need something to take care of, you know, like my cat, my Angel cat.”
“A baby is not like a cat, Cecil.”
“You can teach me. I’ll do whatever you need. And I can take care of you, too.”
The sentiment is sweet, and he says it so earnestly you want to believe him. You kind of do believe him, because Cecil is a lot of things, but he’s not a liar.
You nod sleepily at him. “We can talk about it in the morning, okay? I’m tired. You must be fucking exhausted.”
He strokes your lip with his thumb. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“Yes, dummy. The invitation was implied. You think I’m going to make my baby’s father sleep out in the hall like a dog?”
Cecil grins and pulls you into a tight embrace, scooting your body as close to his as possible. He buries his face in your hair and kisses the top of your head.
“You think he’ll like me?”
Even though you want to, you don’t tell Cecil he’s an idiot, that four month old babies can’t like or dislike anyone or have opinions or judgements about diddly-squat. But you don’t. Instead you lift your head to kiss him on the stubbly cheek. “I’ll put in a good word.”
Tagging: @roanniom @jedi-mando @santiagogarcia @supernovafeather @paper-n-ashes @veuliee @soyelfuegoquearde @montygirl @wyn-dixie @witchyavenger @writefightandflightclub @isvvc-pvscvl @bogieandchill @picklesgoose @mylifeisactuallyamess @brandyllyn @general-latino @winniedaboo96-blog @youvebeenlivingfictional @aerolanya @tlcwrites @revolution-starter @mariesackler @millllenniawrites @woakiees @dreamingindigital @writing-in-april @nowritingonthewall @waatermelon-sugaar @pumpkin-stars @kesskirata
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Desert Flower (m) Ch. 3 | BBH
Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun
Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)
EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)
Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex
Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~4.5k (Chapter 3)
Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.
Masterlist >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)
Author’s Note: Heyy! How’re you guys doing so far?^^ Sooo, this chapter is the longest of all since the story begins to unfold here! The next one is the finale already, and it’s going to be pretty epic, dare I say;) Let me know what kind of plot twists you’re anticipating! 💥
Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove
Chapter 3. The little birdie told me
For an entire week after you first had sex, you’d stayed away. You felt guilty and foolish for letting that happen. Was he a rebound? Was it even acceptable that you did it with your ex-boyfriend’s twin? Could you live with yourself, knowing what he tasted like, or how his voice became gruff as he really got into it? And, worst of all, you wanted to experience that again. You were virtually ashamed to recall the night you’d spent with him, his roughness that left bruises (not entirely unpleasant), his bossiness that made you come out of your own shell to take what you wanted, what you needed, from him. Thinking back to the way you slammed yourself onto his thighs, or how he then folded you in half and made you come, or the name-calling… It was unbearable because despite believing that you’d made a shameless mistake, you wanted to make it all over again. You wanted to feel his prickly touch on your skin, and his prurient eyes not missing a single curve of your body. You wanted to be pushed by him, and you couldn’t understand the nature of any of those desires. Was it because you’d developed feelings for him? Or because he offered you such a pleasant way of self-destruction?
In his hands, you fell apart and reassembled. Not entirely the same, but then how could you be? The person who broke you had left for good, taking pieces of your puzzle with him. It seemed like a better option than to stay depressed and waiting to be fixed, ending up never achieving completeness.
Baëkhyun wasn’t a perfect fit for you, nor was he someone to heal your pain with the tenderness of his own heart. But only with him, you felt these strong emotions again. Only with him your heart was not aching but fluttering again, excited by the dangerous smirk he was wearing, and the predatory eyes that promised to devour you in the most delectable ways possible.
You stayed away, contemplating your decision and the rationale for it. The questions in your head seemed never-ending. Were you subconsciously trying to get back at Baekhyun? Were you replacing him? Or maybe you were just this quick in finding someone else to hand your still-broken heart over to? Baëkhyun did not seem like the guy who’d want it. He was kind of a bad guy, if you could even be the judge of that. Yet he had never actually hurt you, and he did not like to see you upset, even when it was over someone else.
Or because it was over someone else.
And although you didn’t consider him to be boyfriend material, you decided to give it a try. Not at all expecting it to be a relationship – you weren’t ready for a new one anyway. Still, you wanted to continue this unusual arrangement. Or so you’d been telling yourself when you texted him to come over after a week of radio silence.
As easy as it was for you to grow attached to him as your strange relationship quickly progressed, it should have been a warning sign. Baëkhyun kept asking you about the boys, the time you spent with Baekhyun at their base, and the stuff they’d told you about. And it wasn’t like you just spilled all the secrets – he usually asked about completely random stuff that seemed quite harmless to reveal.
But he was also a strategist. And you had no idea how powerful his mind was.
You laid your head on Baëkhyun’s chest, still hot and sweaty after the hours spent roughing up the bed. He stayed with you this time, arm wrapped around your waist intimately.
‘I didn’t expect you to be a natural,’ he hummed out of nowhere.
‘Hm?’ You turned slightly in his hold.
‘You’re getting pretty good at going after what you want. Will suit you well, being a little bad, birdie.’
‘Birdie?’ He met your curious eyes and chuckled, pressing you closer into his side.
‘Ain’t it accurate? You’re like a baby bird that I’m teaching how to fly.’ He stared for a moment. ‘You shouldn’t be down because of anyone anymore. I’d take personal offense if you are,’ he accentuated.
The uninvited warmth seeped into you, and you nuzzled his neck in a fit of affection.
‘Maybe you have to teach me more,’ you teased. ‘Scratch that. Teach me more.’
‘Now you’re just greedy,’ he sneered. ‘But I don’t mind.’
He allowed you to place a few kisses onto the side of his neck, before catching your hand, tracing his V-line down.
‘As much as I enjoy wrecking you, I don’t think you can take any more today.’
‘Aw, worried about me?’ You mocked, biting onto his collarbone playfully.
He squeezed your ass cheek in response.
‘Don’t test me. If you like a little more pain, it can be arranged. But not like this. It’s not what you truly want.’
‘How do you know that it’s not,’ you whined, as he patted your ass.
‘I know you, birdie. And I have a feeling that you’ve learned more about yourself in the last month than in the years prior. Care to give me some credit?’ His icy blue eyes gleamed in the dim lighting.
‘I really wanna blow you right now,’ you deadpanned. Baëkhyun was so, so alluring with that sexy hoarse laugh of his.
‘Wake me up with it tomorrow. If you want it that much.’
But the morning of slow lustful awakening didn’t come – instead, you awoke in an empty bed, alone. Brushing your teeth and washing up quickly, you headed to the kitchen to find your lover... And froze on the spot as soon as you caught bits of the hushed conversation.
‘I’m aware it’s been weeks but building trust takes time, you know? She’s already told me so much-’ Baëkhyun stopped mid-sentence, supposedly interrupted, and sighed. ‘Don’t. I’ll bring her in myself. Yes, I got it, Suhø. I’ll drag her in if I have to.’
You felt anxiety rise at his words, cold sweat breaking. Was he- talking about you? Or was he ‘building trust’ with some other girl? No, that was bound to be you. And who was he conversing with?
Everything was unclear, but your intuition had you tiptoeing back and walking from the bathroom to the kitchen a little louder this time. He finished his call as soon as you entered the kitchen.
‘Hey,’ he beamed at you as if the previous conversation did not take place.
‘Morning,’ you forced a little smile. ‘Were you talking to someone?’
‘Just now? Yeah,’ you feigned curiosity and wrapped your arms around his waist to avoid raising suspicion with your weird behavior or the slight nervous tremor in your hands. ‘Actually, I wanted to take you out today. You can meet some of my friends.’
‘Today?’ He nodded and you blinked, trying to come up with an excuse and fast. ‘Where?’
‘You’ll see. It’s not exactly in the city, so don’t dress all fancy,’ his hand settled on the small of your back.
It was clear now that earlier he had been talking to someone about bringing you in. And having your trust, which, obviously, was his goal from the very beginning. You realized that you needed to slip out carefully.
‘Um, about that… My friend from uni just called. She woke me up, actually. Asked to meet up today, and I already said yes, so…’ You trailed off.
‘Can’t you reschedule? We really should go tonight, while everyone’s in the neighborhood.’
‘Oh,’ you chewed on your lip. ‘She’s going through a rough time, so I have to meet her today. Sorry,’ you added, acting guilty.
He frowned, deep in thought.
‘Can we go after?’ He suggested. ‘I can pick you up in the evening.’
Biting your tongue, you weighed your options carefully. You did not want to alert him as to your attempt to shake him off your tail.
‘Yeah. Sure,’ you forced a smile on your face. ‘I’ll text you when I head back home for a change of clothes, and then we can go.’
‘Perfect,’ he smiled again, before pecking your lips. ‘I’ll head out for a few hours then,’ you nodded, walking him to the door.
Before Baëkhyun opened it, he turned around, catching you by surprise, and kissed you properly. The way he rarely kissed you outside your sex marathons. Deeply, full of… some kind of emotion? You couldn’t really grasp it, but your mind blanked out for a few seconds and you responded. Whimpering into his demanding mouth as his arms hugged you tightly to his body, you felt so tiny and defenseless, almost needy for his protection. But that was a deceiving sentiment.
‘Stay safe, little birdie,’ he whispered into your lips. ‘I’ll be waiting for your message. Don’t make me wait too long.’
‘Okay,’ you promised, and he finally walked out.
Closing the door, you let out a shaky sigh.
You were fucked.
At first, you almost had a panic attack, breath growing shallow and erratic. Having no idea what to do or how to get yourself out of this, you grabbed your phone and dialed the only number you could think of in this situation.
‘Please, Baekhyun,’ you whispered. ‘I’m so scared-’
But he was unavailable again.
Almost sobbing at the automatic answer, you dropped the phone and looked around. There was no one to help you, so you had to save yourself now. Wiping the tears, you grabbed your backpack and started shoving the most important items in it. Your documents, phone, wallet. A change of clothes. A pepper spray you found on your roommate’s shelf, which, you supposed, would be useless against someone like Baëkhyun. But did you have any other option? You had no powers and you would definitely not stand a chance against him in combat. Baekhyun used to train you a little, but you couldn’t even touch him in sparring unless he let you.
It was apparent that your only option was to run. So you did.
You jumped into the first cab you could get and asked the driver to head to the railway station. Making a mistake of not looking at him, you got onto your phone to try and figure out where to go from there. You didn’t notice that the car wasn’t even going in the right direction – not until it was taking a sharp turn right, off the main road, and onto the vacant plot of land, shielded from the road by a line of trees.
‘Excuse me, where are we going?’ You asked, looking around in confusion, finally paying attention.
‘I think we should take the quicker means of transportation, don’t you, Y/N?’ You saw a pair of oddly colored eyes in the mirror, and then the driver turned to face you.
‘J- Jongin?’ You gasped. ‘What’s wrong with your-’
‘It’s Kāi, darling,’ he chuckled, reaching for your arm.
Operating on instinct, you dodged his hand and attempted to open the door. It was locked.
‘Tsk. I thought we’d do it the nice way. Hyung asked me, after all,’ he tutted. ‘But I don’t think you’re willing to work with me here,’ he gritted that last part, suddenly pouncing at you through the space between the driver’s and passenger’s seats.
You screamed and struggled, and then…
It was a blur.
Like movie scenes, your surroundings were changing around you rapidly, too fast for you to catch anything. It may have lasted a split second, but made you so dizzy that you shut your eyes to battle it. When you finally opened them again, your vision was still foggy – the entire surroundings spinning. Kāi let go of your arm, allowing you to stumble forward and barely get a hold of a vertical surface before releasing the contents of your stomach onto the ground.
‘I told you to be gentle with her. She’s not used to teleporting.’ Unmistakably, it was Baëkhyun’s voice.
‘I brought her here in one piece. See arms or legs missing? No? That’s about as gentle as I get.’ The taller one rolled his eyes.
Baëkhyun approached you, a frown on his face, and helped get your hair out of your face despite your weak protests.
‘Let’s get you inside,’ he said, holding you up by the shoulders when your insides were finally done doing flips.
‘Don’t touch me,’ you coughed, pressing your side into the wall to get away from the physical contact.
‘Y/N, please. Just do as you’re told if you don’t want to be hurt.’ You looked up at him, angry at yourself for being this dumb, but also upset because your trust was again broken.
And even though you kept telling yourself that you and Baëkhyun only had ‘a casual thing’ going on, it did hurt. It hurt like a motherfucker, because you were used by a person you... fell in love with. You didn’t understand much of their plan yet, but something told you that it was all meant to hurt another person you loved.
Your feelings had always clouded your judgment. And now you’d gotten yourself into a completely lose-lose situation.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Baëkhyun pursed his lips. ‘You shouldn’t have tried to run away.’
‘Right. Bad little birdie for thinking of self-preservation and for once seeing someone for what he is,’ you mocked frustratedly.
‘I’m truly wondering how you restrain yourself from slapping her.’ You heard Kāi muse from behind Baëkhyun. ‘Maybe you should head in, and I’ll teach her how to cooperate, hyung.’
‘Let’s go,’ the blonde one grabbed your wrist and nodded to his crude green-haired companion. ‘Lead the way.’
You had no choice but to allow him to drag you into the building. Only then you noticed that it was somewhere you’d been before – the base previously utilized by Baekhyun and the boys. Before they abandoned it, of course. It looked different and foreign now, the hallways long and dark as you were taken to the bigger room with a round table, where the others were waiting.
At that point you saw their faces, struck by the similarities all of them bore to the squad you used to know. Your head was spinning again.
‘H- how? Who are you?’ You managed, taking in the unfamiliar variations of familiar faces.
‘So, I take it he didn’t educate her on the clones?’ Chanyeol, or at least someone who looked like him, sneered.
‘What clones? I thought-’
You were interrupted by Baëkhyun, who cleared his throat and announced.
‘She’s here, let’s begin.’
‘Don’t act like we’re not the ones who had to wait while you played with your target,’ someone scoffed from the farther side of the table.
‘Shut up, Chën.’ The silvery-white head shot a glare in his direction, eyes going from grayish blue to a darker shade. ‘Suhø,’ he turned to the red-haired man.
‘Well, well,’ he got up from his chair. ‘If it isn’t the Y/N. To be honest, you should thank Baëkhyun for having so much patience – our first idea was to kidnap and torture you for intel.’
Your eyes flicked back to Baëkhyun’s profile, but he didn’t spare you a glance.
‘Oh, I see you’re still looking for comfort in a familiar face. That’s not part of the plan. Baëkhyun, step out.’
The strategist’s head turned at the leader’s words.
‘Get out of the room. I don’t need her to think she has someone to count on here.’
‘I told you we’re not going to kill her, only use her.’ You swallowed, realizing your heart was beating somewhere in your throat at this announcement.
‘Suhø,’ he pressed again.
‘You shouldn’t be so fond of your little toy, you know,’ Chën piped up, cracking his knuckles theatrically.
‘Just lay a finger on her,’ Baëkhyun growled in response, rays of red light escaping from his now tight fists.
‘Yah, we don’t have time for your bullshit,’ Suhø interrupted their bickering. ‘The sooner you get out, the sooner we’re done with her.’
Baëkhyun pursed his lips and gave him a curt nod. Not meeting your despairing eyes, he left you in the room. Alone. With these monsters.
‘Fucking finally,’ Kāi clapped excitedly. ‘Let’s get this show on the road!’
‘Sit her down in that chair,’ someone said and you were pushed down forcefully.
The men started rearranging the room, moving laptops and phones and other stuff closer to you.
‘Hold her down, Sehūn,’ the leader ordered, then gave a nod to Chën.
You barely managed to sit still as he approached, even your knees shaking with panic.
‘What do you want from me?!’ You blurted.
‘Nothing much. We simply need your voice,’ Suhø shrugged and looked at another one of his accomplices. ‘Whenever you’re ready, Xiümin.’
Swallowing hard, you took in his words. You were the bait. To lure out the EXOs, perhaps? Or simply… Baekhyun?
Your heart faltered.
No, no, no. This was a trap, you should’ve known all along. Nevertheless, you allowed them to fool you, giving these men the leverage they needed. You weren’t going to make a sound! Anything to keep the boys away from trouble. Your mind was made up.
‘I have the line. But you have to catch his attention quickly, he’ll hang up fast if you don’t.’
‘No problem,’ the leader affirmed.
Xiümin nodded and used the keyboard to type something into a weird interface. Then turned the speaker on.
A ring sounded, then another one. You prayed that no answer would come, but after the third ring, the call was taken. For a long second, there was silence.
‘If you hang up, Y/N is going to die,’ Suhø began.
You blinked, feeling the angry tears form again, as you pursed your lips to keep your pitiful sobs in.
‘Talk,’ the speaker responded in what you realized was Minseok’s voice.
‘We have her now. At your old base. Come by sunrise if you want her alive,’ Suhø was concise in his demands. Minseok was silent for a few moments.
‘Why should we believe you? Let her talk if she’s there.’
Everyone turned to you, and you kept chewing on your lip.
‘You heard him.’ The leader referred to you, but you shook your head.
A brutal hand landed a slap across your face and then grabbed you by the hair.
‘Use your voice,’ it was Chën.
You only looked down at the greyish floor, not even blinking when you tasted blood.
‘Y/N, if you are really there, please say something,’ you jolted at the voice.
It was him. It was Baekhyun.
Breathing accelerating and heart racing, you couldn’t help the tears anymore. Wanting to scream and beg for him to come back for you, you kept shaking your head and refusing to make a sound.
‘I guess she’s not willing to make it easy on herself. Chën,’ Suhø tilted his head slightly, and you felt hands on you.
Sehūn had you in a headlock now, and Chën grabbed onto your arm with a cruel chuckle, jerking it so violently that you could not contain a wild yell. They let go of you, and you wailed, grabbing onto your numb lifeless limb in horror. You had never broken any bones, so you had no idea if he dislocated it, or fractured it, or worse. The pain was so immense that you couldn’t even register your name being called from the speaker.
‘By sunrise,’ Suhø reminded before they finished the call.
At that very moment, the door flew open.
‘What the fuck?!’ You heard Baëkhyun roar.
Red sparks fell around you as Chën was blasted away from you by a red ball of light.
His eyes were completely black, with red sparks – like those you witnessed attacking your abuser just now – floating angrily in there.
‘Stop this circus!’ Suhø raised his voice as Chën got up, something resembling little bolts of lightning appearing and disappearing around his forearms. ‘Stand down, the both of you. She was being stubborn, and we had to extract a reaction quickly. Your little human will be fine,’ he huffed, as if this was a normal course of action.
‘I’m taking her now,’ Baëkhyun answered firmly, stepping towards you.
‘Not so fast. She is to stay here until they arrive. As leverage.’ Suhø cleared his throat when their strategist wanted to protest. ‘You can keep watch over her yourself, in your room, or we can throw her in the dungeon downstairs and the boys will.’
‘She’ll stay with me,’ he gritted, helping you up gently not to disturb your hurting arm and walking you out of the room.
As soon as the door behind you slammed shut, he gathered you into his arms to carry you to the next destination. You didn’t try to resist, legs too wobbly to walk anyways, so you just cradled your arm and sniffled, at first not even noticing the room he took you in was quite familiar, as Baekhyun used to stay in it.
You sobbed, replaying his voice in your mind. The way he said your name, and how he pushed for you to let him know if you were there, if you were in danger… The stinging in your chest reignited because now he was going to walk right into this ambush because of you. Beginning to cry even harder, you forgot about your damaged arm, and the hurt, and the person who sat you down on the bed and kneeled in front of you.
‘It shouldn’t have been like this, Y/N. They wouldn’t have hurt you-’ He began, touching your hand.
‘Stop it!’ You slapped him in the face angrily. ‘You played with my feelings all this time, and now you’re just using me to hurt people I care about. Do you expect me to believe that you meant no harm? I hate you, Baëkhyun!’
‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered before raising his voice too. ‘But you shouldn’t have been stubborn! Why didn’t you just speak up?’
‘You really don’t understand?’ You asked in awe of his question. ‘You would if you ever loved anyone.’
‘So,’ he looked down at your lap, nudging his cheek with his tongue. ‘Is it Baekhyun? It’s because you still… love him?’
‘Why does it matter? I’m sure you guys, whoever you are, didn’t invite them here to have tea. What are you planning to do with them anyway? Is it about the Red?’
His eyes shot up to yours.
‘You know about the Red Force? He’s seriously dumb – telling you about them and leaving the clone part out!’
‘Yeah, and you’re so smart. Fooled a clueless girl with your great strategizing, well-fucking-done!’ Your words had plenty of bite, and Baëkhyun reacted.
‘Damn right! The only thing I didn’t do well to keep you safe is leaving your stubborn ass in the room with my crew, and it’s still so much better than the initial plan the Red had for you! I’ve kept you alive this long, haven’t I?’ He snapped at you, and you scoffed.
‘The only thing you didn’t- My arm was nearly ripped off, and it hurts like a motherfucker!’
‘Oh, does it now?’ He mocked, and you noticed how his fingers pressed onto certain spots of your arm, easing the pain significantly. ‘Chën could’ve done so much worse to you, Y/N. But this time he just used his knowledge of pressure points responsible for acute pain. And some of his power to shock you through them.’
He removed his fingers and you felt the pain subside, becoming almost irrelevant and foggy.
‘What- So it’s fine? My arm is fine?’ You asked, rubbing it in shock.
‘You’re fine,’ he breathed out, looking away.
For a while, you just sat like that, in complete silence.
‘Baëkhyun,’ you called, voice hoarse from all the crying. ‘Are you- going to kill them?’
He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, thinking your question over.
‘I don’t know. The plan is to capture and hand them over to the Red. There’s no telling what they’ll do to them this time.’
‘Shit,’ you swore, hiding your face in your palms. ‘This is all my fault.’
‘It isn’t. We were on their tail for a while, you just became our bargaining chip.’
Huffing, you hit the mattress with an open palm in a fit of annoyance.
‘Had I not trusted you so stupidly, this wouldn’t have happened!’
‘Oh, birdie,’ he tilted his head to the side, as if talking to a capricious child. ‘The way we met… sparked my interest. And when it was discovered that you used to be… his girlfriend,’ he paused. ‘Suhø wasn’t kidding – the Red suggested that we torture you. But I came up with a different plan, because I-,’ he looked away as if he struggled to continue. ‘I didn’t want them to hurt you.’
The way he stuttered drew your attention. But you weren’t willing to let him in again. Not about to make the same mistake twice. Instead, you kept questioning him.
‘Did you find ways to contact them through me, too?’
Baëkhyun nodded, and you gave him an expectant look. He sighed and elaborated.
‘The strawberry necklace. You told me it was from someone important to you, so I assumed it was Baekhyun, especially since he likes the damn thing. Checked it out when you were asleep because I know what I would’ve done.’
You were still confused as to what he meant.
‘He was tracking you live, so we managed to hack into it and trace the line back to a burner phone. We could not access the location without establishing a direct connection, but we got the number.’
‘I just gave you this one,’ you chuckled bitterly, and his blue eyes dropped to your knees again. ‘And now we’re freaking doomed.’
He shook his head to this. ‘I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I promise I’ll keep you safe.’
‘You think that’s what I want?! When the person I love gets murdered or worse, all thanks to-’
‘Stop saying that!’ He raised his voice again, hitting the mattress with a fist, red sparks flying everywhere without hurting you. ‘Why do you love him all that much? Didn’t he leave you?’
‘He’s walking into a trap to save me. And he’s a strategist like you, he clearly knows the odds. Are you really asking me why?’
Baëkhyun stared at you, chest heaving, and nostrils flared. It seemed like he wanted to argue, tell you that you were wrong. But instead, he looked away. His voice sounded hollow when he spoke again, eyes a dim shade of blue.
‘Get some rest. Tomorrow’s gonna be a tough day.’
Lying in bed wide awake most of the night, you prayed for a miracle that would somehow save your EXO boys.
>> Chapter 4 [fin]
A/N: Meet X-EXO ✨ So... What do you think of Baёk at this point? Is he a bad guy or worse? Is Y/N going to make it? Just one chapter left, we’re almost there!! Let’s hope that EXO show up on time yes I'm evil
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Tony Stark x Female!Childhood Friend!Reader: Brightest [Ch. 15]
Summary: [F Name] [L Name]: Tony’s Stark’s “invisible friend.” She’s invisible in all the wrong ways–at least until Tony spots her years after telling her to get out of his life. With Yinsen’s words in mind, Tony decides to pursue their lost relationship, only to find that [Name] might not be as willing as before. What Tony doesn’t know, however, is that the confusion of her life might end up the best of his.
Ratings/Warnings: M (love triangles, foul language, sexual situations, non-consensual sex with a significant other (note: I will mark this specific chapter accordingly), a positive portrayal of cheating, verbal abuse from parents and significant others, toxic relationships of several kinds, and discussions regarding rumors of an inappropriate relationship between an older man and his son’s teenage friend)
Pairings: Tony Stark/Reader; Justin Hammer/Reader; Tony Stark/Reader/Justin Hammer; Pepper Potts/Happy Hogan
Tag List: @littlegasps, @tricksterwinchester, @frostay, @downeyreads, @mycosmicparadise
Chapter Notes: This chapter is brought to you by John Laurens/SailorHamilton on Quotev, winner of my September 2020 Free Fic Raffle.
I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got for this story at this point in time, folks!
Chapters 15: Extra Credit
Curling up in bed remained vastly preferable to doing anything outside of it. Yes, your life was a wreck: Your father continued to steadfastly ignore you whenever you made the mistake of entering a room he occupied; your mother refused to stop trying to wheedle information from you about your relationship status with your long-distance boyfriend any time you accidentally stumbled upon her; and, oh, yeah, you had willfully arranged to sleep with a man you'd been in love with for most of your life when all he wanted was to forget his ex. "Wreck" was an understatement. What your life really was was a disaster, but lounging around in bed with your laptop propped on your knees, you could ignore the mess of bad decisions strewn about you entirely.
Well, almost entirely. Leaving your phone somewhere out of earshot would have been stupid even for you; thus, one of your many problems always had a way to reach you.
"I just really think the program is showing progress now I'm here to supervise it personally. It's crazy what my staff thinks they can get away with while I'm gone. I mean, it's ridiculous! When Don told me that the interim president of Hammer Tech wanted to shelve the Suit Project entirely, I told him no way. My guys know better than that! But lo and behold, I practically had to build the R&D notes back from the ground up after I got here! I hope your father can appreciate all the work I'm doing. You'll put in a good word for me next time you see him, right? Remind him I'm still out there? [Name]?"
Justin, true to form, spent so long filibustering once he got you on the line that you'd nearly forgotten he was talking. Your phone lay on one of the pillows squashed between you and the headboard because you'd put him on speaker to allow you full use of both your hands. Years of practice allowed your brain to register the momentary lapse in noise, thankfully. Most of these rarely lasted long enough for you to get a word in edgewise.
"All that sounds great, Just," you said absently, opening a menu on your photo editing software and waiting for him to go on.
For once, he did not. "What sounds great?"
"Ummm...the whole thing, I guess."
"What have I told you about daydreaming while I'm trying to have a conversation with you?"
Your finger froze mid-click. If Justin noticed your vague answers, he really thought he had something important to say. You scooped your phone up with a sigh before switching it off speaker and pressing it to your ear.
"Not to do it. Sorry."
"Am I going to have to go over all of that again?" he asked.
"No," you said swiftly. "No, no. I got the gist of it."
"Did you? How about the part where I need you to remind your father I'm still out here working my ass off?"
Of course you hadn't really got the gist of it. Once Justin got past his typical affirmations of love and checking on your own not-so-hectic schedule, you'd tuned out. Whatever needed doing at Hammer Tech could not score lower on your list of things to care about. There was nothing there to cause you overt anxiety—until Justin had to go and bring up your dad.
"I could. Wouldn't it be better for him to hear all this from you? You still have his phone number, don't you?" you suggested.
Lucky for you, Justin didn't push. He still sounded peeved when he answered, "Because I'm busy trying to get my company back on track after your best friend got me locked in prison. Is there some reason you can't talk to your dad for me? You're the one that lives with the guy."
No good explanation came immediately to mind, so he barreled right on:
"If you're doing something more important over there than helping me out you can just go ahead and say so."
"It's—It's not anything like that."
"Then what's the problem?" He let out an incredulous laugh. "I don't know if this has occurred to you, [Name], but I'm doing a lot of work out here for you. For us. For our future together. And now you're telling me you can't lift a finger for any of that yourself?"
"That's not what I said! I know all that. I do. I just don't think now's a good time for me to be talking to Daddy if you want him to like what he hears. He's...not exactly on speaking terms with me right now."
A long silence followed your reluctant confession. You stared unseeingly at the black and white photograph of an elderly woman on your screen, bracing yourself for Justin's reaction.
"What did you do this time?" he asked. Was it your imagination, or did your boyfriend sound amused?
"[Name]. You're lying."
"No, I'm not!"
"I bet you said something stupid, and it got him all riled up again."
"That does sound like what usually happens," you admitted.
Anything to avoid explaining to him the real reason behind this latest blowout. That your father hadn't already mentioned it and asked Justin to corral you came as a surprise. If your actions were such a massive breach of trust that your father was angry enough to ice out your boyfriend, well, that news would sound better coming from someone that wasn't you.
"So what was it?" Justin asked teasingly.
"Does it matter? The point is, I really don't think you want me involved if you want the conversation to go over well."
"Yeah. Yeah. You know, I think this will work out better, actually! Christine's nearly done with that big article. Maybe you could go out and buy a copy of Vanity Fair once it's published, put it somewhere your father can't miss it."
"Perfect. Just let me know when it's on the stands."
Not that you'd need the warning. You were sure your mother planned to frame every page emblazoned with Justin's name on it.
At least he seemed cheered by your acquiesce. "Then that's our game plan. Just wait until you read the piece, [Name]. Christine sent me a draft, just to make sure there wasn't anything too inflammatory in it. Don't want to bowl anyone over so soon after the trial. It's a real phoenix rising from the ashes story. In fact, I'm not sure there's ever been a better example of that than what I've been through in the past year!"
"I can't wait."
"Now that that's settled, tell me what you've been up to. I feel like we hardly ever talk anymore."
"I've been busy. You know that. I've got all this work to do."
"You mean on that big project for your dad?"
"It's been awfully quiet over there for you to be building anything."
"That's because I'm not. I thought about what you said before you left," you said quickly, just in case the subject brought to Justin's mind a forgotten conversation with your dad in the weeks following his discovery, "you know, about the defense thing. You were right. I don't know what I was thinking. We should be differentiating ourselves from Stark Industries, not falling in line with To—them. I scrapped the whole thing and went back to blueprints."
"Glad you finally came around," Justin said. A slight purr to his voice signaled what was coming next: "You doing that work in bed?"
"You know me so well."
Or at least it was better for him to think he did. You weren't lying this time, not outright. Bed was where you were...but not your bed. The less Justin knew about that, the better.
"You, uh, wearing anything cute while you're working?" he wanted to know next.
"Sweats and a t-shirt," you said, again avoiding the subject of who said sweats and t-shirt belonged to.
"That's not very exciting."
"Do you expect me to work in lingerie whenever I'm doing something in bed? You're not around to appreciate it, and it's not exactly comfortable stuff."
"You've never said anything about that before."
"Well, sorry to disappoint you. Next time you're in town, I'll wear something more interesting."
If Justin had had any idea of where you were, he would have been relieved to find out you weren't in any sort of sexy costume—before he became too angry about your location to recall that relief. Either your skill in lying had improved in leaps and bounds over the last few months or Justin not being able to see your face made you more believable, because he didn't call you out. Instead, he plowed right on with his original reason for asking about your clothing in the first place:
"You know what I would do if I was there to appreciate anything you're wearing?"
You had a pretty good idea without him launching into a thorough description of entering your bedroom and proceeding to get the both of you naked. He described the whole thing anyway. Normally you went along with his phone stories; if they didn't get you hot and bothered, at least Justin enjoyed them, and you could be reasonably sure he wasn't busy with another woman while he was narrating to you. That night, however, you felt only a sense of shame knowing you were neither in the room your longtime boyfriend imagined, nor the clothes. You weren't even the girl he imagined anymore, panting and moaning his name as he went on in your ear.
Before Justin had a chance to realize your lack of interest in his sordid tale, the overhead lights above you flickered on and off just once: the agreed upon silent signal between you and your AI host. Relief surged through your veins as you bolted upright.
"Uh." Clearly he had not expected you to interrupt. It took him a few seconds to get his brain back on track. "Yeah? Something going on?"
"Sorry. I just—I think I can hear someone headed this way. Mom didn't say anything this morning about her having anywhere to be tonight, so—"
"Say no more! Wouldn't want to risk your mother overhearing what we're up to, eh?"
"Right. So I'll just...call you back some other night?"
"I don't know about that. I'm awfully busy, which if you were paying attention tonight, you would already know. How about I pencil you in for—"
"Great. Let's do that. Love you! Bye!"
You hit the button to hang up on him just in time. Some reply or another got cut off the very second that Tony appeared to lean against the door frame. His lips pursed in at one corner, an expression you were quite familiar with.
"Please tell me I did not just catch the tail end of you having phone sex with Hammer while you're in my bed and wearing my clothes," he said.
"Okay," you answered without missing a beat. "You did not just hear me having phone sex with my boyfriend while doing either of those things. How’d the meeting go?"
He let out a theatrical groan as he traipsed into the room and collapsed next to you on the bed. "Oh, you mean that video chat with the stockholders Pepper tricked me into?"
"Didn't she warn you last week they wanted to do that?"
"Whose side are you supposed to be on? She knows I gave her control of the company because she deals with that lot better than I do. It was a complete waste of time, too. They're still not giving her the go-ahead for my project. Pep hasn't got them fully on board with the clean energy development yet. This would convince them—if they'd just let me do it. Someone's got them convinced they could do something better with the Manhattan Property. They want to sell it to Richards, I'll bet."
As much as he claimed to be completely different from Justin, Tony, too, could go on and on about a subject with little to no input on your part. You went back to your photograph with half your mind on the conversation. What did your opinion on Stark Industries' plans matter anyway? Your family had already made it perfectly clear they had no intention of letting you deal with the business in any professional manner.
"None of them will admit that, of course," Tony continued. "What they said was that they don't like that there's no one on the East Coast to oversee the project. Apparently, given my past behavior, a lack of oversight is a huge red flag."
Silence fell long enough that you recognize that he wanted an answer.
"And?" Tony repeatedly impatiently. "And...and they want to send me."
That got your attention in a way a long diatribe about Dr. Richards never could. You looked up at Tony, aghast. He seemed to be gauging your reaction and only gazed placidly back. Another test, you figured, so you forced yourself to go back to some semblance of work. Thankfully, he didn't push you. This gave you enough time to sound calm when you said:
"What does Pepper think about that plan?"
Sighing, he got up from the bed and began to loosen his tie. "Oh, she's all for it."
"Well, then. That settles it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means you're going to New York."
"Says Pepper. Come on, Tony," you added, trying to smile as he opened his mouth to argue. "You do just about anything she asks you to."
"Objection!" He pulled off his jacket and headed backwards for the space in his wall that you knew held a hidden closet. "I have spent the better part of my life doing the exact opposite of what Pepper Potts wants."
"Because you feel obligated to whine about it first so she doesn't catch on. You always give in eventually—like you did for tonight's video chat."
"I do not whine."
You lifted your eyebrows. "You mean like you didn't whine about having to wear a suit to this stockholder meeting you claimed you weren't even going to attend, only to both wear the suit and attend?"
"What's my suit got to do with anything? I like a good suit. It's a Tom Ford."
"But you never wear one to meetings with your stockholders. You hate them, Tony. Wasn't there an incident where your dad dragged you to one and you showed up late wearing a banana hammock?"
"Subject of my dad's off limits," Tony said, turning as the closet opened for him. "As is the combination of me and a banana hammock. We all make questionable fashion decisions in our youth."
He had to struggle a little bit to get his jacket hanged up; some things around his house he was still getting used to without having Pepper there to attend to his every whim. Watching him gave you the opportunity to appreciate the truth of his statement. Tony Stark looked good in band shirts. He looked in good in grungy tank tops. But he looked best of all in a suit, and even with one piece removed he struck an attractive figure.
Too bad he returned his attention to you quickly enough to catch your eye. Tony smirked.
"Like what you see?" he asked, practically strutting back over to the bed.
You did your best not to break eye contact. "I've been trying to see it all day. You always going to be at work this late when Pepper calls you in for a meeting?"
"You keep bringing up my desire to please Pepper and I'm going to start thinking you're jealous of our purely professional relationship," Tony said, sitting down and using his body to force you a few inches to the left to allow him space to lay down.
"Oh, sure, because there's absolutely nothing for me to be jealous of when it comes to Pepper."
"Well, her boyfriend's kinda...well..."
"Not you?" you suggested. "Now who sounds jealous?"
"What, me? I am not jealous of Happy. He's my friend. What makes him happy makes me happy. What makes Pepper happy makes me happy because she's my friend, too. Just because I can't stand to watch them being mushy doesn't make me jealous."
"Uh-huh. Which is why you always ask her if he's around when she wants you to come in to discuss the tower."
"You could just tell her no every once and awhile. Especially when we have a standing date."
"That would be difficult since our lives are a standing date. Besides, I need her to convince the board to approve this project. That's why I wore the suit. Not to impress my ex-girlfriend who has made it abundantly clear my lifestyle is not compatible with hers."
You risked a looked at him. His deep brown eyes remained fixed on the photograph of Gladys you'd been fiddling around with off and on all evening—or trying to in between all the attention the two men in your life seemed to require.
"What do you need her to convince them for?" you asked.
"Simple. I'm not CEO. She is."
"Can't you fund the project yourself? It's not like you don't have the money."
"It's got to be official. There's only so much Iron Man-related material I can put together before I face another Congressional hearing. I just want to do something with my hands again, something good."
Speaking of his hands, Tony used his as he sat up to pull you into his lap. They grasped your hips from there, then twiddled with the waistband of your pants. You decided to drop the subject. If you pressed any harder—or reminded him just how often he expected you to wait on him while he was wrapped up in one thing or another with whatever girl he was seeing when you were kids—he was likely to deny you what you'd schlepped over to his home that afternoon for in the first place.
His current absentminded plucking indicated he was finally ready to get around to that part. Tony was never absentminded; he simply couldn't be. He liked for you to ask first, though, and you were desperate enough to do so. Just as you opened your mouth, however, you spotted what had been bothering you about your photograph all through Justin's phone call. You grabbed your mouse to fix the problem without so much as a second thought about the man who had his stomach pressed against your back.
Tony was not to be so easily deterred. When you did not immediately respond to his unspoken suggestion, he leaned his head down to suck at a spot on your neck. This elicited a shiver on your part, but no break in your sudden intense concentration. If you could just get this one thing done, this photograph would finally be completed.
"Well, I'll give you this," he said as he removed his mouth, though not far enough to keep you from feeling his breath against your skin. "You've made a hell of a lot of progress in a very short amount of time."
You registered he was talking again but not much else. "Huh?"
A firm squeeze on your side yanked you back to reality. When you glanced over your shoulder, you found Tony gazing at you expectantly. Maybe Justin was right about you daydreaming too much.
Embarrassed, you asked, "Did you...say something?"
"Nothing important. Just that I'm impressed you're already resisting me."
"Is that bad?"
"No. It means I'm going to have to resort to more...drastic measures in our future encounters."
"So I get to up a level, professor?" you asked.
Tony laughed. "We're not ready for that level yet, Princess."
"Aw, come on." You scooted backward so that no space remained between your bodies. "How's my grade looking these days? Do I get an 'A'?"
"You don't get your final score until our little arrangement comes to an end. On the other hand, there's no reason you shouldn't go for a little extra credit."
"Like what?" you asked in a falsely innocent voice.
Typically this was an acceptable way to open the proceedings. Tony loved to teach, even if not to the degree of your joking suggestion. He subverted your expectations that night by removing his hands from your body and placing his chin right on your shoulder to look down at your screen.
With a jolt, you realized that this was actually the first time you'd let anyone else lay eyes on your work. You'd been so concerned with wrapping it up earlier that you hadn't thought to shut your computer down when he arrived. The warm feelings brought on by your flirting froze into fear. What if he hated it? Who were you kidding? Of course he'd hate it. There was a reason that you hadn't wanted to share your photographs with the world. Now there would be no art show, and no art show meant to more deal with Tony, and no more deal with Tony meant—
"Is that for the gallery? he asked.
His tone remained neutral. Needless to say, this did nothing to allay your anxiety. You would have to guess what he really thought from there. No. Doing that would only drive you even crazier than you already were. Better that you ask. Better that you get this out of the way sooner rather than later.
"Yes. It's not my only picture," you hastened to add, "but Gladys is the only subject I've tracked down and got permission from to display her image. She's been good to me. I want it to be perfect. Is it bad?"
"Not at all. She looks tough."
"She is. She's tougher than I could ever be."
"Don't undersell yourself. I'd say you've increased your toughness by, oh, twelve percent since we started seeing each other."
"Wow. Twelve percent, huh?"
"Hey, just a few short weeks ago you'd turn into a puddle of goo if I did this."
To demonstrate, Tony nibbled on the shell of your ear. This was a test as well. If you, as he so eloquently put it, turned into a puddle of goo now, you would never hear the end of it. You trained your eyes so hard on Gladys' face that they watered, but he didn't stop there. His lips trailed down your neck all the way to the point where he had pull the neckline of your top back to get at more skin. He wrapped his arms around your middle, then ground his hips against you. Only when you broke down enough to quiver did he reach around you to snap your computer shut and move it to a safer corner of his enormous bed.
"You better not be teasing me again," you said, flipping over as he stretched himself to his full height against the mattress.
He moved his hands back to either side of your hips. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Really? Because I can't tell what you want tonight."
"It's not about what I want. A man comes home, finds a woman in his bed, finds that woman wearing his clothes...that gives him some idea of what she wants."
You pressed a laughing kiss to his lips, only to pull away and remind him, "They're only your old sweats."
"Are you telling me that you've never lounged around in Justin's crummy clothes to drive him wild? You haven't, have you? God, I shudder to imagine what foreplay looks like between you two."
"That has nothing to do with it. He just doesn't have anything good to wear. Justin's pajamas—"
"Are nothing I need the image of burned into my mind. No more work."
His grip on you prevented you from making a move back toward your laptop. He didn't give you a chance to argue the point, either. Before you could protest, he shifted one hand to the back of your head, pressing your mouth to his. This kept the both of you occupied for several minutes, but not so long you didn't take another stab at protest during a brief interlude:
"I really should get home before anyone notices I've been gone all day."
Tony rolled his eyes. "If this wasn't your plan, why bother doing your work here when you knew I had plans with Pepper? It's a lot easier to pretend you're still an engineer for Daddy when Daddy can see you."
"Maybe I just wanted to enjoy your company? Did you ever consider that?" you asked loftily.
This time, Tony's laugh shook the whole mattress. With your noses nearly touching, you had the perfect view of the way his deep brown eyes twinkled when he found something truly amusing. Whatever chill had risen when he commented on your photograph disappeared in the light of a delightful heat deep inside your stomach.
"Sure you did, Princess," he said. "We both know you can't stand me, but if pretending otherwise eases your conscience..."
It did—or at it should have. Luckily, Tony chose the same moment you felt a pang of hurt in your chest to reverse your positions on the bed. He didn't notice the effect his words had on you. You stared up at his familiar sardonic smile and did your best to return it. After all, you were supposed to hate him; everyone said so.
It wasn't exactly a secret that the only benefit he got from keeping you around was a lot of less-than-stellar sex. Shouldn't that have made it easier to prevent yourself from falling for him a second time? But even after all of the casual sex, even after all the years of silence before, even after all the insults shared in your childhood, you couldn't bring yourself to hate the man now expertly working the sweatpants off your legs.
He caught your eye before he went any farther. "You can't tell me you're not an expert at working through these kind of interruptions from your boyfriend."
You shook your head.
"I won't keep you too long. You can get back to work just as soon as we're both done here. Deal?"
The moment you nodded, he removed your panties and the main event of the evening began. One thing you would never admit to Tony: His interruptions were becoming more and more vital to your work. You wondered what might happen to your hobby when they inevitably dried up.
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Mommy's Pleasure Service
Warning Tags: [DARK CONTENT:Mentions of murder, Manipulation] MotherReader, Infidelity, Smut, Yandere Shigaraki, Mommy Kink, Shiggy losing his virginity, Lactation.
Tracing your ravishing curves from head to toe, admiring how you look so sexy on those flimsy white blouse and short skirt the first time he laid his vermillion eyes seeing your milk leaking through your bra, nipples seemingly poking out that made him unfocused on his game.
You were so sweet like a mother, tenderly parting his unkempt bangs to make him see a full view of your thighs slightly spreading when you dipped yourself on the edge of his bed, enough to make him feel aroused and having another problem down below.
“Sweetie make sure to drink your water okay, I'll cook your breakfast today so you don't need to go outside more often...”
Breath hitching at the sight of you every time you move your lips to say some words he chose to disregard on his mind because Tomura was rather busy imagining his twitching cock face-fucking you that he began ignoring the background noises of his game ending.
He doesn't give a damn about your little introduction, because all it makes sense to him was the fact that Sensei hired you to take care of all his needs from now on, a mother perfect for a budding young guy like him.
Igniting your sexual vigor for a mother who just gave birth was more than easy compared to every porn games he'd usually play or jack off to.
Coming out of his room first to find you doing your job cooking something, sauntering close to you to simply wrap his arms around with his palm carefully gropping your chests to feel your hardening tits grazing between his fingers, grinding his erect on your rear and busting himself underneath his pants.
Making himself embarassed in front of you, cursing “You fucking bitch made me lose myself so quick, you better take responsibility”, unexpectedly hearing your gentle voice of cleaning off his own mess by bending your knees on the floor, pulling his zippers down before teasingly massaging his balls with your tongue before dragging it up to swallow the tip, drawing out his choked groans.
“Nngh–first blowjob ah fuck your mouth feels so good for a secondhand slut” biting his lower lip and yanking the back of your head to suck him deeper sealing your lips around his shaft making him gasp for breath, almost gagging how harsh he slams his balls deep, looking down to see his cum painting you white.
Jaw becoming numb from his thickness grazing the roof of your mouth, Tomura can't get enough how your mouth takes him whole at ease feeling himself spurting another release when you locked his gaze on him eyelids fluttering when he creamed you full.
Gently slurping some excess on his now flaccid cock before returning back to what you were doing earlier like nothing obscene just happened muttering “Tomura don't be shy to ask me for help”, he was quick to close his zipper panting as he staggered a bit of how fast you get it done after dispensing his load on your whorish mouth, clutching his thumping chest to collect himself back after that mindblowing thing you did, wearing that satisfied grin.
“Whatever you bitch, you better cook my food fast before you burn it or I might as well give you something to be afraid of”, the roughness of his voice echoed in your mind, seeing his quirk dust the pot holder beside you made you shudder in fear.
You know how much he needed a motherly care for a manchild like him thinking his empty threats were just too childish for him to do, but that sinister smile was enough for you to nod, agreeing to his instructions immediately scared that he might kill anyone close to you if you disobey for once.
Tapping his feet incessantly on the floor and that erratic scratching on his neck implies he cannot wait anymore to lose himself prepared to pounce on you any minute, impatiently initiating it by jack-hammering you against the kitchen table when you forgot to use the dog molder on his sunny side up, his hand reaching out on your neck to pin you down against the surface wincing in pain when he roughly pulled your hands behind, his pinky raised up as he entered himself with no preparation causing your cunt to burn in pain, whimpering incoherent words to take it slow, which he responded by languidly thrusting his way inside to stretch your more admiring how your luscious body takes him so well whenever your back arch a little to accomadate his size.
Apparently reminding himself of a milf porn he wanted to recreate with someone. Thrilled to have his fantasy being fulfilled by fucking an actual woman on top of a table.
“Fucking can't wait anymore, you're just asking for it look how you dress so slutty for me, you want to me to fuck you so much”
His drools dripped on your back as he rode himself with so much pleasure of finally losing his virginity, his rasping groans filled your ears chasing his own highs feeling a used cunny from childbirth manage to squeeze him tight warmly, calling you differently at the height of his excitement “Mommy, such a good fucking whore ACK–tight so tight take it mommy please... shit so close–” letting him cum first, such a good loving mother who puts his baby's needs first well ironically.
Serving Tomura round the clock was your job qualification why you've been accepted to work under him in the first place, leaving your child on your husband to take care while babying someone.
Cleaning his room, cooking his favorite food for you to be fucked again against the fridge or sometimes against the window for anyone to see his cute mommy he'd brag around wearing an apron, being such a good mommy slut for AFO's successor.
“Tomu please Baby, I'm going to see my child tomorrow one last time I swear Momma won't leave you”
“You crazy bitch, aren't you divorced already Mommy, I'm so fucking mad at you”
He's so pissed to hear constant pleas of letting you spend the whole day back to her old house, really infuriated that you had to leave him tomorrow just to see your ex-husband with your kid one last time before they move far from you after losing custody of your son.
Knowing already how much a cockslut you were for him staying here for too long that you're here desperately working and fulfilling his needs as his nanny to the extent of forgetting your maternal duties for the past few months.
“Good boy Tomu aah–not so rough, that's right don't forget to drink your milk every night my baby” you grimaced gripping a handful of his white hair as he busied himself devouring your mounds, his large hands squeezing your breasts in jealousy remembering how your baby used to suckle it too. Seeing his Mommy's stupid face contorted in pain was enticing him more to fuck her senseless still retaining any sanity left on her head.
“Shut up, says the one who forgot her own kid, I'm your baby now don't you forget it for once”, he snarled rolling your bruised tits with his tongue before engulping a mouthful of your breast hungrily, giving his attention on the other eliciting urgent moans.
“You're mine only do you hear me mommy... ALL MINE”, he rasped tugging your nipples between his teeth to squeeze to get a taste of it greedily trying to have every drop for himself.
Breeding you was not a bad idea after all thinking how he would fuck you with your stomach swollen with another child again, and tasting your sweet milk consistently before it fades away soon.
Your tired throat let out a shaky mewl of his sudden intrusion below, lining himself on your naked sex to pump his frustation away, groaning how your cunt clench him hearing the lewdness of your slick around his length, with his bestial rhythm filling the room matching the creaking noise of his bedframe against the wall, earning a slap on a cheek when you forgot to say those words he wanted to hear.
“Why so quiet Mommy, I thought you want to make me feel better, come on say something before I let you go tomorrow, don't make me wait” tears was streaming down to your stinging cheeks withstrangled cries “Ple-please Tomura let Mommy cum for once, don't punish Mommy anymore ahaa so big for a sweet baby like you”, his chapped lips captured your mouth sloppily with a heated kiss before snapping his hips few more strokes to send you to your peak, passing out and him marking your neck with big hickeys and whispering sweet nothings “A little souvenir markings to show your ex-husband”
Silently letting out a sick chuckles as he watch you leave the hideout early morning, not knowing he had planned this out carefully days ago by visiting your house to dispose everything that gets on his way of making you truly his, remembering what he had done to your ex-husband who begged him to spare your child.
Faking a message about him sending your child to an unknown foster care was his final step of erasing the existence of your whole family to you. Taking an ounce of mercy by giving your child away to a villain to raise instead.
Leaving you with no one to rely on just like his, having no choice but to crawl back to him at the end of the day. amused of you lying to him that you had fun with your kid to avoid burdening him more of your chaotic personal life.
“Tomu, sorry I-I forgot your birthday but it's not too late to make up for it, oh my I think you'll like this corgi stuff toy”, you forced a smile with your faltering voice, taking out that dog stuff toy from your bag that he knew belongs from none other than your own baby.
Taking it from your grasp holding it tight on his gloved hands muttering “You know what, I have been thinking how much you love being my mommy so I'll be generous tonight to make you a mother again so that you won't get bored so easily here with me, imagine our own child playing this toy soon”, he smirked knowing what's about to happen.
He watch as you become so empty, staring at the murky ceiling of his room giving you a mating press for his birthday.
Considering his Mommy to bear him a child as an extra bonus pay for the great service he ever had.
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madly in love
pairing: (warren lipka x gn!reader)
fandom: american animals
word count: 519
a/n: I haven’t seen American Animals but ive been reading a lot of stuff by the one and only @whiiiiplaaaaash . hope I did him justice <3
date: april 12, 2021
Everything changed last night. You had a dream about your best friend. It wasn’t anything sexy but something romantic. And now you can't look at him the same anymore. Your subconscious was telling you that you were in love with Warren Lipka.
You were sitting in front of the tv playing with your fingers, nervously. He was right next to you. You couldn’t pay attention to what was on the television, you were distracted by everything about him.
The way he smelled, the way there was a stutter in his breathing. It was the things that you didn’t really pay attention to that made your stomach full of butterflies.
Lost in his trance you didn’t hear what he had asked you.
“Y/N. Are. You. Hungry?” he said slowly and goofy.
You nervously chuckled, “Oh, um, yeah. Starving.”
“Cool. I’ll order in for us.”
He dials the number of your usual place and orders.
When he was done he focused back on the show and then slung his arm around your shoulder. You then snuggled into his slide. He was really warm and you just wanted to stay like that forever, but the doorbell rang and he hopped up to get the food.
He paid and tipped and set up the food on the coffee table. He sat on the floor and you sat next to him slowly picking into your food.
He was almost done with his food and faced was stuffed when he turned to you, “Y/N what’s wrong? I got your order right, right?”
“Yeah you did but I just have something on my mind.”
He swallowed his food, “well tell me all about it. The doctor is in.” he said patting his lap for you to lay your head on his thigh.
You shuffled and laid down. He moved some hair away from your face and with his light touch made you blush.
“So Y/N tell me what’s troubling you?”
“Well um,” you panic trying to find a way to cover it up, “A friend of mine just realized they have feelings for their best friend and doesn’t know how to tell them.”
“Oh, what kind of feelings?”
“Like madly in love feelings.”
“Oh well with that I would tell them straight up that I love them.”
“Really just straight up?”
He nods and you sit up from his lap. You take a deep breath, “Okay I love you.”
“Perfect you just gotta tell your friend to say that.”
“I'm the friend.”
“Oh, who are you in love with then?”
“For god sake Warren! It’s you!”
“Oh shit really?”
“Yeah. if you don't feel the same way I totally understand.”
“What are you talking about? I'm totally in love with you.” he chuckles.
You give him a hug and are practically in his lap. When you release from the hug your faces are close to each other. He kissed you.
His kiss was soft but his hands were rough pulling you in close.
You couldn’t believe you were kissing your best friend and the love of your life.
♡please like comment and/or reblog♡
wanna be tagged? (X)
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For the Salty asks: 1, 3, 5 and 6?
Thanks so much for playing along! Ima be real with you 2 out of the 4 questions you asked really opened up a can of worms for me, and I’m so sorry. I put the less stressful ones first, and the other two are under the cut! Anyway, these were super fun to answer, but plz don’t hate me for it!! 😂😂
for anyone wondering, here’s the ask list: Salty Asks List
3. Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?
lmao yeah. It’s petty, but honestly, people’s personal morals really bleed through into their fandom opinions, and I’m not willing to put up with any unnecessary hate, especially in environments that are supposed to be fun. I’ve even blocked a few people. In the ppg fandom specifically, I’ve blocked a person who, I guess, thought it was necessary to try to gate-keep with racist/sexist/etc. terminology and ideologies, and I truly don’t have time for that 🤷♀️ (a lot of people probs know who I’m vaguing, but if you don’t, you’re lucky)
I can’t say I’ve ever unfollowed anyone for any innocent/not-in-conflict-with-my-morals fandom opinions. Usually, if I don’t agree with something, I just keep scrolling because lol whatever. Everyone’s entitled to their own opinion.
but ngl I have unfollowed people who just get annoying 😬😬 lol
6. Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*
I went into this fandom without having too many preferences, so I didn’t have a pairing that I’ve previously hated!
I guess I could say that while I never really hated them, the color-mixing and color-clashing ships weren’t ever on my radar until I came across the fandom content. Now, I really like them! Particularly, Brick and Bubbles!
1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*
Before anyone gets pissed off at me, before you get into my answer for this question, I’d like to really stress that you’ve got to go into it with absolutely zero fanon context. Like, erase all your headcanons from your mind. I’m dead serious. Because I literally DO NOT get why ANY rrbxppg ship would realistically work ever.
Okay, canonically, these six little funky science experiments were dead set on ending each other. The boys were absolutely horrible to the girls. And the girls literally KILL the boys. I know in fairytale romances, nothing stops love, but bruh, it’s hard to come back from murder 😂 And yeah, I know Clipsville showed the girls and the boys together as older teenagers, and they weren’t trying to kill each other, but that was an obvious gag. In the documentary, it was revealed that that particular “clip” was made because a bunch of people wanted the boys and girls to interact again, and CN gave into the demand. (also, lol I know it super embarrassing, but I did watch the documentary. I just really like Craig McCracken) I just don’t think that realistically a canon pairing between the two sets of triplets would ever be considered a healthy relationship.
Also, ethically, I just—okay listen, I go back and forth with this allllll the time, but the ppgxrrb ships make me confront the “Would I sleep with my clone?” question way too often. Depending on my self-esteem, the answer changes each time. Like sometimes I’m like fuck yeah I would! Other times I’m like, ew, no, I’d have to consider my clone as a twin! I know counterparts aren’t technically clones, BUT the boys really do come across as identical to the girls in the show. The only difference really is their moral alignment (I’m nixing any gender argument). So, I’m like, omg, can I honestly pair these six together in any way??? Are they too close to each other genetically in some sense for this to be morally right??? Like if you ship Brick and Buttercup together, would that just essentially be shipping Brick and Butch/Blossom and Buttercup together in some messed up way??? Is Brick just Blossom, and Blossom just Brick?? Is it better just to ship color-matching instead of mixing???
On top of all of that, wouldn’t the boys and girls be pseudo cousins since Mojo was the Professor’s lab monkey? Technically, in canon, Mojo ends up being both sets of triplets “creator,” so could the rrb and the ppg be considered siblings of some sort? Some of you are probably like, wow, calm down. Stop thinking about it. They’re science experiments. It’s not so deep. Which I get, but I can’t stop, so let me hit you with something ten times worse: should the girls (or the boys) actually be considered biological siblings? Does sugar, spice, and everything nice make you genetically related? Nothing put in the stirring pot was organic—just a bunch of chemicals. If you ship the boys and girls together this could be a good thing! BUT, but, could some sick fuck use this information to somehow justify shipping siblings (ppgxppg or rrbxrrb) together??? This is a literal nightmare to think about!!
All in all, I can’t think about these pairings too much without getting caught up in the logistics of their existence even if they’re fictional lmaoooo! If it wasn’t for the fandom, I wouldn’t ship them together at all. I just think it’s amazing that the ships took off like they did lol, because their literal (fictional) existence is just one giant mind fuck for me. Anyway, I ship them at the end of the day, but tbh I do it with a bit of a guilty conscience. Is it morally correct to ship clone-like counterparts? Or should counterparts be treated like twins? Does it even fucking matter at the end of the day, it’s just fiction? I don’t know the right answer. But I do know the pairings don’t make sense.
Aside from the ppgxrrb, I don’t think there are many other BIG fandom wide pairings. Still, I just want to say that I don’t get why people ship Ace and Buttercup together. The pairing sounds off a few major alarms in my head for obvious reasons. There’s also a bunch of crack ships that involve crossovers with other cartoons. Generally, I don’t mind them, but it seems popular to ship Aku (from Samurai Jack) and Blossom together. And I’m real sorry to those devoted shippers, but again I do NOT get it. I see a lot of romantic fan art depicting romantic situations with Blossom still drawn as a child, and like I get Aku is an immortal demon, so “age is just a number,” but again, BIG ALARMS go off in my head.
5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*
🙃 🙃 Kind of don’t want to answer this, but I will anyway because only a few people actually read my blog lolol, so lol, yep! And it’s the reds. Don’t shoot me lol. When I was in middle school, I got into this fandom, forgot about it, and then came back when I was hit by a round of nostalgia. I’m finishing up college now, and I can confidentially say that the fanon content for the reds hasn’t changed one bit. Or the demand for it.
I tended to find that a lot of red content follows many archetypes that I’m just not into. Their stories can get a real cringey, real fast. Blossom is always written like this “perfect, except she’s not (but she really is)” character. Like she’s the girl you WISH you could be, but she’s also going through a shit ton of stuff that no person IRL would be able to handle without having a mental breakdown. And sometimes, in some stories, Blossom does have a mental breakdown, but in a sexy way, so she’s still perfect. Generally, there’s still something problematic about Blossom that makes it easy for a reader to relate to her on some level, unlike the way people write Bubbles. And then there’s Brick, who’s broody, hyper-possessive or jealous, and hot figuratively and literally (gotta love the fire/ice trope). He’s the only boy—no! Wait!—the only person who could ever possibly outwit Blossom, and he is just so undeniably attracted to Blossom. They’re the smart power couple that should honestly just hook-up in Chapter One to save everybody time, but they don’t. Nah, they’ve got to survive at least two love triangles before they even consider admitting they’re attracted to each other.
And don’t get me wrong, none of that’s bad, but there are a million fanfics that go through the same song and dance with these two. And it’s kind of easy to tell when someone’s hardcore projecting onto Blossom because the type of person they’re personally attracted to is the way they write Brick. And I’m not knocking anyone self-projecting onto characters, sometimes people got to do that to give themselves a fun mental break, but bro, I don’t want to read about it. For one, smart broody assholes aren’t my type. Maybe when I was in middle school, but not anymore. And two, it’s just not interesting to me, which is a real shame since the reds are a majority of the fanon content.
Maybe if I found more red stories where the plot isn’t character-driven but plot-driven, so I see the romance between these two characters in a context where it’s not the main focus of the story, it would solve my issue with the pairing. I haven’t found many fics like that, though.
I can’t really think of any reds fic where I’m like ey, this aint bad unless it has a “major character death” tag attached to it lmao (which are always plot driven stories). However, in all honesty, since I’ve stayed away from red content for a while now, I don’t know the current state of things. Maybe there’s been a load more development for these two, or people have broken away from the same plotlines, but I’m too busy to check. I do browse people’s fic rec lists from time to time, but it sort of feels like everyone just puts the same fics on their lists and moves on.
And before someone’s like, “well, you can say all this about the greens or the blues,” just know I’m fully aware. The greens make me cringe too because there’s a shit ton of possessive and abusive storylines filling their story tags. And what makes me super uncomfortable is how people make Buttercup hit Butch or call him derogatory names, oftentimes unprompted. I don’t know why people make Buttercup such an unlikeable and overly aggressive person. I also don’t get why they make Butch some perverted idiot, but to each their own, I guess? Still, I see these green-character patterns most often in red-focused stories, which is another reason why I avoid them. I’ve found a lot of green-focused content that strays from the abusive tropes I try to avoid. Considerably less than I’d like, but the greens are typically the b-plot pairing, so that’s to be expected. Personally, I’d really like to see more content with the greens finding some kind of inner peace, and recently, I’ve seen a few fics that have tried to tackle this concept.
And lol, if you’ve read some of my posts before, you already know that I think the blues are an underdeveloped fanon pairing. The fandom can’t ruin that pairing for me because it never does anything substantial with it.
Anyway, at the end of the day, I’m just personally not into the way the reds are popularly written, but I get why people are and that’s good with me.
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Golden child Guide
heyyy y'all this is a guide to my favorite kpop band Golden child!!!
okay so they're also called golcha or gncd for short and the Fandom name is "Goldenness"
Instagram : official_gncd11
okie so starting with the members!!
sorry this might be a bit long I have so much to say hehe
1. Lee daeyeol
Lee daeyeol - leader of the group !!
he's the "charismatic leader" and in my opinion, so, so cute?! if you're watching a video and trying to identify him, he's the tallest member. and also the one who gets made fun of the most. he has an older brother in the band Infinite, called Lee sungyeol. he's pretty cute also. Daeyeol always takes care of his members, and has some pretty good arm muscles. he's also the Oldest in the group. he has great proportions and is very handsome.
jersey number : 11
2. Y (choi sungyoon)
This is Y!! the second oldest member. he's the main vocalist!! he goes by the nickname (tokki) which is bunny, because he thinks he looks like one due to his buck teeth (very cute) he's mostly sexy, and has a very very nice stage presence, and I assure you you'll replay his parts because of his smile and charms. Power Vocal Y. literally his voice is just *shivers* Also very very athletic. tbh all of golcha is (they hold the record for the most medals as a grp in ISAC. they have about 30 and Y has like 8 of them) he's also a dare devil, and likes extreme sports. he's intense, but also weird and cute. identifier: bunny, mostly dark floppy hair, bleached during woollimpick days. Love Y!!
jersey number : 3
3. Lee Jangjun
(sir how dare you make that face while holding a tiara in your hand and a bow in ur hair)
okay so this is jangjun, often called the energy vitamin gummy, and rightfully so. he's LOUD. and incredibly athletic. (10 medals at ISAC) also if you see normally pictures of him it doesn't seem like it but man got some serious abs (look up Lee jangjun men's health, at ur own risk) he's also incredibly, when I say incredibly I mean INCREDIBLY funny. this man will not make you stop laughing, stomach aches, tears rolling out of your eyes. you simply must watch "Jangstar by Dingo" on YouTube. they're only like 10 minutes each, subbed, and hilarious. he also does a lot of things which idols cant/shouldn't do in this time and age. he often crosses the line while also remaining respectful which is refreshing to see. identifier : LOUD
jersey number: 82
4. Tag(Son youngtaek)
this is Tag!!!!(bias hehe) or Son Youngtaek. he has one of the broadest shoulders in Kpop (nearly 20 inches, or 50cm) he's a rapper and has got a very unique voice. he has a really weird personality lmao, often known as 4d? He can speak Japanese fluently and was a part of a band that promoted in Japan before being in golden child. He knows so!! many!! songs!! literally he can just recognize them from the first few seconds and he's incredible at dancing also. He also has a really really cute smile. kind of aura that just makes you want to hug him. identifier: broad shoulders, small face, fairest skin in the band I think, and he can be either quiet or really loud depending on his mood)
jersey number: 7
[don't rrly like to talk about this but tag was also being hated on because of this video call with a fan? i think the fan was asking some personal intrusive questions and tag became a bit defense, and ppl took the fans side, and started hating on the poor babie =( also apparently the fan was found to be a sasaeng after, so there you go haters]
5. Bae Seungmin
bae seungmin!! mini mini min seungmin!! shortest member of golcha, no one rrly knows his real height. he can be a bit quiet and stuff during interviews, but he's usually so so cute!! also a little underrated. he has the most beautiful voice, and a very gentle way of doing stuff. he's also really strong. especially his thighs according to the members. he's also known for being late a lot, but he's very kind and gets along with everyone. he used to be a trainee at JYP before joining woollim and was also one of the last people to join the group. Known as the "pocket man" by the fans, seungmin has a shy but cute personality. also he can fit into a suitcase completely lol. Identifier : smol
jersey number : 98
6. Bong Jaehyun
Bong Jaehyun!! very very bongvely (bong x lovely) he's a visual member who's incredibly cute and has a very very nice voice also. it's kind of husky, but still sweet. he's the first kpop idol to debut with the last name 'Bong' he learnt acting in high-school, and has since starred in Dingos webdrama "Convenience store fling" He also goes by "Bongjae" as there are many many jaehyuns in the kpop world. they actually did a special stage. all the jaehyuns special stage cover of Exo's Call me baby. Hes fluent in English because he lived in Wisconsin for 2 years. his English name is Kevin which is so cute hehe. member of the googooboms (golcha 99liners) Identifier : it's a bit hard actually. smol vibes? skinnier than most members? fluffy hair? hmm be sure to let me know if you notice a very distinctive one.
jersey number : 19
7. Kim Jibeom
Kim Jibeom!!! Hes another visual of the group, with a deep toned voice which nicely contrasts all the other vocalists in the group. He looks the quiet, serious type, but is actually quite the opposite. has a unique sense of humor, lots of slapstick comedy. and is one of the three known moodmakers of the group, along with Joochan and Jangjun(you knew about the Jangjun part already) Hes from Busan, South Korea. Hes weirdly really good at scooping up tennis balls with a badminton racquet??also, he speaks with the satoori dialect and always claims that he doesn't anymore (he does hehe) he has admitted to not speaking English very well. Identifier : It is really, really, really hard to distinguish Jibeom from the others as a new goldenness, cause it's like his look changes with every single Era. I might make a new post about all the different Jibeom eras after. meanwhile, just do your best to love this cutie babie.
Jersey number : 33
8. Kim Donghyun
this is donghyun!! hes nicknamed the "fan attractor fairy" and is often known for being very clean, and really likes cleaning. Hes really really cute and is like 100% done with all the rest of golchas shit 💀💀 hes one of the people who've been at woollim the longest, since like 2012. he was scouted when he was in 6th grade and has been at woollim ever since. he's the main dancer of the group. he and joochan are known for bickering a lot (like an old married couple) he's roommates with bomin. new fans often think he's the maknae but that is not the case lmaoo Identifier : eye smile, cuteee
jersey number : 80
9. Hong Joochan
(babie looks so huggable here)
hong joochan!! main and sentimental vocalist of the group. his voice is honestly so so unique and soo beautiful. I literally cannot describe it, go listen to his solo song "A song for me" rn. it will make you cry. Joochan is a musical actor, and is also really funny. his voice is so emotional. He's known for being a good eater/eating a lot. Joochan and jangjun are both Enfp's and have similar types of humors. Hes also a painter and is really good at art!! he had an injury for a while and had to go on hiatus but is completely fine now!! identifier : sharp jaw, loud laugh
jersey number : 55
10. Choi Bomin
bominie!! bbomaengie!! choi bomin! our smile angel. he's literally the cutest thing ever when he's smiling, but can look so chic when he's modeling and stuff. he's currently a model for etude house. (like a cosmetics brand) you may know him from famous dramas like A-teen season 2 and 18 again. he has an incredibly deep voice for a maknae lmaoo. also he acts so chic people say he's the maqné not the maknae lmaoo. bomin originally auditioned as a rapper but he's the visual and face of the group. identifier : :D smile!! and also slightly taller than everyone else.
jersey number: 89
videos to watch to get to know them better :
1. woollim pick (better to watch on vlive, subbed)
2. weekly idol with weki meki (you'll see an icon jangjun video)
3. all of their weekly idols
4. other guides on youtube
5. fact in star videos are very well made
6. dingo videos - dingo treats them like their children
7. Aratv - if you want chaos
8. the dingo mafia video - try and watch this after you're familiar with all the members it's much more fun that way.
9. dingo Jangstar - for our boy jangjun
10. Ch. gol-cha on vlive (I've found they're easier to find if you just type in gol-cha instead of ch golcha)
11. bomins dramas
12. golden child's drama - Crash! Insignificant Roommates. (honestly just on dramacool)
And that, my friends, concludes your official golden child guide!! I'm not gonna write about jaeseok because tumblr only lets me add 10 pictures, I may make a post about him later, he was loved by all. K I've spent nearly an hour on this and it's almost 11pm so have a nice dayy! hope you stan golden child soon
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Is It a Boy or a Girl? | Family of Four
Title: Is it a Boy or a Girl?
Summary: Time for the gender reveal.
Warning/s: Mentions of a bet, being nauseous, mentions of throwing up
My hand flew to my mouth as I walked into the kitchen to suppress the gag that was threatening to come out.
“Fred,” I groaned, “The tea is making me puke.”
He immediately ran and covered the tea pot to stop anymore of the scent to flow into the air.
“I’m sorry.” He said, smiling sheepishly, “I forgot that the smell of it makes you throw up.”
I offered him a small smile, taking a seat, “It’s okay Freddie. We’re all new to this.”
He soon sat down as he handed me a cup of coffee.
“Are you ready to find out the gender of the twins?” I asked him, taking a small sip.
His face immediately lighted up, “Of course I am! In fact, Ginny, George and I have a small bet.”
I raised a brow at him, “Oh really?”
He smiled, “Yeah, George and I bet it’s a boy. Ginny bets that it’s a girl.”
I laughed, “Count me in then. I’m betting it’s a girl.”
“So, it’s a tie then.”
We then got ready to head to our appointment at St. Mungo’s.
After getting dressed, I stared at my image in the mirror.
My stomach had surely grown over the last four months of my pregnancy.
“You alright princess?” Fred asked, hugging me from behind while resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Yeah, it’s just. I look fat.” I said.
Fred chuckled, “You’re not fat princess. You’re pregnant with our twins. Besides, even if you were fat, I’d still love you all the same.”
I giggled, “But, I still look like a whale.”
He laughed as he spun me around and kissed me, “A very sexy whale.”
I playfully smacked him on the shoulder, “Oh, enough of your shenanigans. Let’s go before we be late for our appointment.”
We then apparated to the hospital.
“So, what do you bet the gender is?” The healer asked us with a small smile.
“It’s most definitely a boy.” Fred said, settling into the seat
I shook my head with a small smile, “I really have this feeling that it’s a girl.”
The healer laughed at our small debate, “Let’s find out then, shall we?”
She went through the same process, applying some gel on my stomach, and running the transducer over it.
Fred and I kept our eyes glued to the screen as I felt Fred reached over and grabbed my hand.
“Well,” The healer said as she handed us the sonograms, “Looks like the both of you were right. It’s both a boy and a girl.”
We headed home, not believing our luck that we were blessed with both a baby boy and a baby girl.
When we opened the door to our flat, bickering could easily be heard inside.
“Believe me George, it’s a girl.” The clear voice of Ginny was immediately recognizable.
“Nope! It’s definitely a boy Gin. Believe me, I’m always right.” Her older brother retorted.
Fred quietly laughed at his siblings, “Then why don’t you two stop your bickering and find out.”
Harry groaned as he slumped back into his seat, “Thank Merlin you’re back! These two have been at it all day.”
Angelina laughed, “Well, don’t keep us waiting any longer. That is unless you want those two to launch into another debate.”
Fred and I looked at each other before I asked, “Which of you thinks it’s a boy.”
Harry, George and Fred raised their hand.
“Aside from me, which of you thinks it’s a girl.”
Ginny and Angelina raised their hand.
I smiled, “It’s both.”
Ginny jumped up triumphantly, “I knew it! I knew it!”
She then did a little victory dance, “I told you it was a girl.”
George chuckled at his sister, “Don’t get too cheeky Gin. It’s both, so I was also right.”
“But you wouldn’t believe me when I told you it was a girl.” The two started to argue again.
Harry groaned, placing his head in his hands while Angelina stifled a laugh, “They’re at it again.”
Fred and I joined in the laughter.
My husband placed his hands in his pockets as he gave Harry a teasing look.
“Want some tea Harry? Figured it would save you from your little predicament.” He asked.
Harry stood up at his words, “Oh, yes please. Anything to get away from here.”
Fred chuckled, sneaking a small glance at me, “Let’s have it in the kitchen, don’t want my princess to get sick.”
And with that, the two of them retreated to the kitchen.
After a few hours, all of us had called it a day, Harry, Ginny, George and Angelina apparating back to their respective flats.
I’ve more or less had been sleeping peacefully until I woke up at around 2 am in the morning to see Fred kneeling by my side, talking to my bump.
“What are you doing Freddie?” I asked him quietly.
“Talking to the kids.” He stated casually as easy as you would say ‘Eating breakfast’.
I ran my fingers through his hair, “At 2 am in the morning?”
He chuckled quietly, placing a small kiss on my forehead, “Sorry love, I just couldn’t sleep.”
He then continued what he was doing earlier.
“Hey there you two.” He whispered loud enough for me to hear, “Your mum is awake.”
“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He continued, “She is the one thing in life that I can never live without. She completes me, she makes me feel whole. And now, she’s carrying the two of you. Your mum is just the sweetest thing in the whole wide world and I have absolutely no idea what I did to deserve her.”
I smiled, trying to wipe the tears from my eyes before Fred saw. But I was a tad bit too late.
“Hey,” He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss on my lips, “why are you crying sweetheart? Something wrong?”
I sniffed, wiping the last of the tears away, “Stupid hormones.” I muttered causing him to laugh.
He delicately traced his thumb over my cheekbone, “I meant every single word sweetheart.”
He laid down next to me, placing his hand over my bump, rubbing it gently.
“Don’t give your mum a hard time okay?” He said.
He ran his fingers through my hair, “Get some rest love.”
I rested my head on his chest, getting lulled to sleep by the calming feeling of his fingers in my hair and his steady heartbeat.
@lumosandnoxwriting @wand3ringr0s3 @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke (If your username is crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)
@the-romanian-is-bae @manuosorioh @lucymfer @lunylovelovegood
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Shut Up and Fry (A Weight Gain Story)
TW: EXTREME WEIGHT GAIN, IMMOBILITY, IMPLIED DOMESTIC ABUSE, MISGENDERING, LIBERAL-LEANING POLITICAL SATIRE
Please, if any of the above sounds even remotely upsetting to you, don’t read this one. I completely respect that decision.
“Hi, I’m Barney Levitt, and this is CMZ! Today’s topics include…”
With a garish transition, the screen switches to show a static shot of a truly enormous woman, her thin blue muumuu doing little to hide the thickness of her flabby thighs or the bulge of her blubbery belly, which hangs so far below the hem as to be visible from the woman’s rear. The worm’s eye angle of the image accentuates the woman’s sheer wideness, and in particular the size of her backside; gluey, globular ass-cheeks seem to dominate the frame, with dimples so deep as to be visible even through the dress.
“Which washed-up popstar is this fatass?” asks Barney’s voiceover. “You’ll never guess…”
The screen switches again, showing shoddy CCTV footage of a bar-brawl.
“Kanye and Taytay are feuding again! But does anyone still care?”
Another transition, this time to the Twitter logo.
“And is Twitter trying to cancel a national treasure for telling the truth? The latest on Jenny McCarthy, here, on CMZ.”
Barney Levitt is back on screen.
“First up though,” he begins, “we absolutely gotta talk about Brianna. Once a decade-defining popstar, known for such hits as Parasol, That’s My Name and Crude Boy, the Barbados-born beauty has vanished from the public eye in recent years. However, one of our canny photographers snapped last Saturday a shot he says is of Brianna! But let me tell you folks, when we saw it, we couldn’t believe our eyes – or her size!”
The screen transitions to show a front-on view of the same gigantic woman. Despite her puffy, pimpled cheeks, non-existent neck and numerous chubby chins, she’s clearly recognisable as the former pop icon. Her hair, though now tangled and greasy, shows signs of its former lusciousness, cascading down decadently unto chunky spherical shoulders and gently brushing against broad, blobby arms.
“We now turn to our titillating tattletale, Karen.” The camera zooms out so show a botoxed blonde sat beside Barney. “Karen, what the heck’s happened?”
“Well Barney,” the woman says, “Brianna hasn’t had a top ten hit for nearly a decade. Her last two albums flopped, and she hasn’t put out any new material for three years. I’d guess her own artistic failings have hit her hard.”
“And hit her waistline hard too?”
“You’ve read my mind. It happens to so many celebs; even Princess Di was looking pretty porky prior to… well…”
“So tragic,” Barney sniffed, “so tragic.”
“The real tragedy is that so many popstars have shared her fate—”
“Poor Left-Eye Lopes…”
“No Barn, I mean gaining ridiculous amounts of weight. TLC were always butterballs. But lots of singers pack on the pounds after their careers start to nosedive: Lady Gaga, Katy Perry—"
“And who can forget Kelly Clarkson?”
“The ultimate cautionary tale.” Sternly, Barney points towards the camera. “Stick to your diets, folks.”
“Regardless,” Karen continues, “a weight gain like Brianna’s is really unprecedented.”
“And in three years!”
“I’d guess she’s gotta be around the 600lb mark, so that’s 200lbs gained every year!”
“More roly-poly. She’s definitely sleeping in a king-size these days.”
“Good one! That’s the kind of quick-fire wit we keep you hired for. So Karen,” he grins, “reckon we’ll be seeing Brianna on My 600lb Life anytime soon?”
“More likely she’ll next show up in the obituaries.” There’s a pause; Karen straightens herself in her seat. “You know, because she’ll be dead.”
Barney smiles broadly, unnerving white teeth glistening in the glare of off-screen fresnels.
“With the amount of cholesterol she’s got clogging up her arteries, that won’t be too long!”
“We’re returning to the Brianna situation right now, but I must warn you, some viewers may find the following discussion disturbing.”
Barney strains to project as much sombreness unto his face as it can; he’s out of practice.
“Yes,” he continues, “since CMZ first broke the awful news about Brianna’s bulging belly last week, more details have emerged that point to her increased corpulence being a consequence of domestic abuse. Now, we turn to our resident physiognomic psychoanalyst, Karen: Karen, how do we know Brianna’s being beaten up?”
“Well,” Karen begins, “we don’t know she’s being beaten up, but she’s certainly being controlled: she was spotted in public holding hands with an unidentified man. You can see the shot onscreen now.”
The same breathtakingly-blobby woman is visible on screen, in motion this time, wobbling and wheezing as she waddles away from a just-offscreen sea of cameras and mics. Helping her heave her hefty body away is a bald-headed figure, pulling the paunchy pop star forward with a tight grip on her pudgy hand. The stranger is clearly slender, but beyond that it’s hard to ascertain anything about them: large-white rimmed sunglasses hide most of their face, and an oversized puffy coat completely conceals the details of their figure.
“Looking a little leftie in that coat there, isn’t he?” Barney chuckles, before catching himself.
“Exactly,” Karen continues, “clearly a girl as sexy and smart as Brianna would never willingly date a man like that.”
“Sexy, past tense. And of course no diligent boyfriend would ever let his lady get that lardy.”
“That may well be the problem, Barney. If I had to guess, Brianna’ fallen victim to a serial feeder: you might have seen some of those monsters on My 600lb Life.”
“Ewww!” Barney flinches, clutching his hands close to his chest. “Vile creatures!”
“For the uninitiated—”
“Or the blissfully ignorant—”
“Feeders are freaks who, for some strange reasons unknown to science or God, actually enjoy making their girlfriends fatter!”
“It’d a truly dangerous fetish,” Barney adds, “and often deadly.”
“Which is why we’re certain the poor pop-princess is being kept captive. As you can see in the photo onscreen, she’s been using an old flip-phone—"
“Well, there aren’t actually any visible signs of physical abuse—”
“No, I mean do you reckon the phone’s a burner?”
“Oh!” Karen corrects herself. “One-hundred per cent. Which means her bastard boyfriend doesn’t want any good Samaritans reaching her.”
“And the sweats—”
“Show she hasn’t got the money for proper clothes. Either that, or her boyfriend’s seized control of her credit card. Feeders usually use such despicable tactics; they have to, or else nobody would ever entertain their perversions.”
“It’s concerning stuff, and it’s certainly aroused the public’s sympathy. Popular R&B star Chad LeMarron, who as we all know is an ex-boyfriend of Brianna’s, has started an online campaign to #BringBackBrianna. Live in Tacoma, here’s Chad now: Chad, you’re leading the effort to get the bottom of this affair, aren’t you?”
A pink-haired, gold-teethed man appears on the monitor behind Barney.
“Get to the bottom?” he cries. “Barn, I got forty million followers all itching to see me lay the smackdown on this feeder freak!”
“Yes,” says Barney, “they’re rallying behind you with tags, aren’t they?”
“We got a whole campaign goin’ on. It’s the power of the people ya’ll, we’re bringing Brianna back!”
“It’s impressive, for sure, but aren’t some people questioning your campaign?
“What’s there to question! Of course he’s treating her like crap, just look how fat she’s gotten! That ain’t my ex, that’s a whale, right there.”
“Well Chad, our viewers may remember what you—”
“That’s bullshit, Barn!”
“I’ll tell you what I told the cops, the court, everybody! You know the truth, I’ve said it enough time: I was a man possessed. It wasn’t me, it was my dad!”
“Your long-dead-father, yes.”
“I’m telling you man, his spirit took control of my body, real voodoo shit—”
“Nobody’s doubting that, Chad. The real question on everyone’s lips is: has Brianna stumbled into yet another abusive relationship?”
“Fuck yeah she has!” Chad yells, triumphantly. Then he recoils. “Waitaminute…”
“Thanks for being here Chad!”
“Fuck you, Barn!”
Chad vanishes from the monitor.
“Quite a spicy character, isn’t he?” says Karen.
“Not as spicy as Brianna’s current squeeze, sadly.” Harvey sighs. “Which is why we’d like to end this episode with the following message, from all of us at CMZ: Brianna, if you can hear this, god help you.”
Brianna lounges lazily on an old couch in a trailer, her titanic tummy tickling against lard-laden knees. She can barely get up by herself anymore; soon, she’ll be completely couchbound, but she doesn’t mind. Her flabby folds are her trashcan, hiding who knows how many empty wrappers, all waiting to be licked clean upon discovery. Her blubbery belly is her table; even now it’s supporting a spread of sugary snacks. And what need could she ever have for the world outside when she had food?
No, Brianna welcomes immobility. Her legs have done enough for her work in the past, carrying her through so many interminable tours and overtaxing dance routines; they’ve earned as much to retire as she has. Her stomach has been starved for too long, left empty and shrivelled from a lifetime of ED-adjacent fad diets; it’s earned the opportunity to let go as much as she has. Her throat need never strain itself again, need never sing again, only swallow. Simple hedonism, hedonistic simplicity; teenage dreams had never done it justice.
At that point, if on cue, her stomach growls.
“Luna?” she yells. “Luna, when will the donuts be ready?”
Naked, Brianna’s bald-headed girlfriend sashays into the room. Her body is rugged and firm, with strong, sinewy arms and broad, muscular hips; the only jiggles to be found on her body are those of her breasts, plump yet pert.
“I told you,” she drawled, “these things take a while.”
“But I’m hungry now…” Brianna whined.
“I’ve trained you well.” Bending over Brianna’s belly, Luna takes a twinkie from its supple surface and gently inserts it past her girlfriend’s lips. Brianna’s eyes brighten as she chews, shining with glee as the syrupy-sweet flavour fills her mouth.
“You didn’t train me,” Brianna smiles sweetly, “you only set me free.”
“I taught you this kink!” Luna teases.
“But it was always within me,” Brianna replies, “I just didn’t know it. Thanks to you, I’ve found the fantasy I’d always been chasing. Thanks to you, I’ve made myself all that matters.”
Playfully, Luna nibbles her lover’s lardy cheek, and strokes her squishy stomach.
“And you’ll all that matters to me,” she whispers, between blissful bites, “you know I’ll do anything for you.”
“Then where are my donuts?”
“Just gimme time.” Luna snaps upright. “Gotta make them as delicious as I can for my superstar.”
“I’m not a superstar any more, haven’t you seen the news? I’m a freak.”
“But you’re my freak.”
“And you’re mine.”
Luna skips back into the kitchen.
“You know,” she cries from within, “I think, to them, happiness is the most outrageous thing of all.”
“Luna…” Brianna’s belly gurgles again. “Shut up and fry.”
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part one | part two
Daichi x Fem! Reader
Ft. Ikkei, Takeda, and Keishin x reader
T/w: yandere, dubcon/noncon elements, noncon pictures, dubcon drugging, somno (touching, grinding, tip insertion), consensual cucking, massive age gap, virgins (everywhere.), voyeurism / public acts, tongue and spit stuff, male masturbation, 18-year-old reader and characters, slight breeding kink, male eating cum from reader
Summary: Wanting to be closer, Daichi convinces you to try out for the position of Karasuno’s manager. He begs his coaches to consider you as an option, even getting them to allow you to attend an official training camp. But, before they can let you onto the team, the coaches have to make sure you’re a ‘good fit’. You don’t even get the chance to show your qualifications before things take an interesting turn on the bus ride there...
A/n: This is my contribution to the HQHQ NSFW Hard At Work Collab. Thank you so much to everyone for allowing me to participate, and for welcoming me into the server! I know I’m late, but at least it’s not over a month this time! Thank you so much to @rocorambles and @haikyooot for being my very sexy beta reader’s <3
This story takes place right before nationals Istg, Daichi is 18, the reader is 18, the rest of the men are old and grizzly.
As always, please be wary of the tags! Be safe with your mental state!
Read at your discretion
“Do you think they’ll like me?”
You sound so uncertain, voice wavering and unsteady, eyes shifty and evasive. With the way you gnaw at your lip, Daichi’s not even sure you’ll have anything left by the time you two arrive at the gym.
The dark-haired man just shakes his head. A small smile stretching across his lips as kind brown eyes take in your barely bundled form. Someone who didn’t know you better might think that your body’s trembling from the cold. After all, that would make the most sense.
Logically, there’s no reason for you to be quivering with fear, to be shaking with anxiety. There’s nothing to be scared of. Not with your protector looming dutifully over your shoulder. Not when he’s always watching, never more than a whimper away.
For as long as either of you can remember, Daichi’s been a constant in your life. The two of you coming as a set, rarely ever seen without the other. That’s just how it is, and how it always should be.
There’s a thick blanket of white covering Miyagi. As the two of you walk through the prefecture, the rhythmic crunching of snow is a soothing consolation for braving the cold.
Based on the way things are playing out, with bundles of snow still toppling from the sky, it only looks to be getting worse.
Daichi finds it all too enchanting, walking with you in the early a.m.’s, gentle flakes of ice melting against his cheeks. The sun still has a long time before it’ll rise, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
It is almost romantic the way the two of you wander the night, under the artificial light of the city. Under the pretext of friendship. Daichi loves the way your cheeks heat up in your frazzled state, the way your chattering teeth and scrunched up features give away just how cold you actually are.
He thinks it’s beautiful.
Daichi thinks you share a lot of similarities with these frozen flakes of ice. The way it shines under the light, the way it sparkles as it floats to the ground, and the way it matches your eyes — glimmering with a desperate need for attention and validation.
One look at what you’re wearing has a silent tsk rolling off his tongue. You can’t possibly be comfortable, let alone warm in your school uniform, in a skirt that’s just a little too short for Daichi’s liking…
“Daichi, are you even listening?” Irritation leaks from your voice as you grab onto his left arm. “I’m serious you know. I really want to make a good impression!”
His eyes crinkle just slightly at the edges as a deep chuckle slips past his lips. The little whine in your voice, the flail of your arms — even the way your lip juts out, almost begging to be kissed — it has his heart beating a little stronger, a little faster.
“C’mon,” he teases, “don’t be like that. You know that little act doesn’t work on me.”
Both of you know that’s not true. Not when your perfume wafts gently under his nose, and certainly not when you press your body up against your classmate, your warmth seeping into his own.
You don’t affect him. He says it for you, in hopes of teaching you not to be such a fucking brat. But mostly, he says it for himself. Seeing you like this, hanging off his every word, it stirs up something he’s not quite willing to admit. Something deeper, something darker…
It’s not right.
It’s not enough that the two of you spend practically every waking minute together. He wants more, no, he needs it. It’s why, now, even when you sleep, you’re practically inseparable — swapping houses every other night, so you never have to be apart. You’ve been friends for so long that no one pays it any mind, no one bothers to look any deeper. It’s almost scary how not a single person questions the tight grip, the constant contact, or even the possessive gaze that follows your figure. They just accept it for what it is.
It’s just Daichi. That’s just how he acts.
It’s not enough that you wear his initials around your neck, how could it be? The little chain sparkling daintily around your neck, it can’t possibly portray his love. It’s just simply not good enough. Not when you can take it off, not when you can hide it beneath your clothes.
He wants something more… prominent. Something permanent. Something real.
Daichi doesn’t want to hurt you, but he will if he has to. If it will teach people to respect you, to respect his property — then what’s a little pain? What’s a little cut, a little bruise, a little burn, a little tattoo?
It’s not right.
It’s not right and he knows it. But knowledge only means power when you’re willing to change.
If you were to describe Daichi, you’d say he’s constant. He’s tenacious — surging with persistence and fortitude. That’s the reason why you’ll never escape.
You make him feel things so intensely. Things he’s never experienced with anyone else. You’ve always been friends, forcefully thrown together since childhood. But now, as the two of you have grown older, it’s so much more.
Daichi loves you with all his heart, and he knows you love him too…
So why did he see you talking to another classmate. Another male classmate at that? How come he caught you laughing at someone else’s joke, someone who wasn’t himself?
It’s only natural for the two of you to end up together, that’s what everyone says… so why not just speed up the process? No one would mind if he took you away, if he filled you with his cock, if he fucked his cum into your cute little womb.
Whether or not you like it? Well, the thought’s never even crossed his mind. Not when he knows how much you love him. Not when he knows how you would do anything for him.
You say it all the time, almost every night as you drift off to sleep. So why should he question your loyalty. Why should he question your consent? He doesn’t need to when he knows he already has it.
Besides, you can’t leave if you’re carrying his baby. You wouldn’t.
It’s just not you.
And no one knows you better than Daichi. It’s an undeniable truth. No one else can take care of you, not like he can. Not the way you deserve. After all, he’s the only one who’s spent their life dedicated to you — in the ways it really matters. Daichi plans to make that common knowledge, known to everyone who so much as catches a glimpse of your perfect figure — starting with himself.
Daichi knows that realistically, he’ll do whatever it takes, crossing every line, every boundary, every law — if only you’d just give him a sign, a purpose.
But he doesn’t have time to wait around. He doesn’t have time to let you come to him. Not anymore. Not when you’re leaving next year to study in Tokyo. Not when he’s staying here to pursue his career in law enforcement. He won’t be away from you, he can’t.
That’s why he’s forced you into this, convincing you to come with him, through the chill of winter, at this ungodly hour. It’s why he bribed you into attending his training camp, to try out for the position of manager.
When Daichi first broached the topic, you’d laughed directly in his face, almost collapsing with hysterics. You’ve never even played volleyball. You hardly ever do more than just casually watch. To say you’re underqualified is a massive overstatement. But Daichi’s convinced that somehow, you’ll make the perfect manager.
You have to.
A captain needs a manager, and Daichi needs you.
This year, his final year, the Karasuno boys Volleyball team’s finally made the cut. They’ve finally risen from the ashes, once again taking to the skies. It feels so fucking gratifying to rule the court, to ditch the name of “Fallen Crows”.
And whilst he’s completely overjoyed and absolutely ecstatic with the sudden change, it means dedication — a dedication he’s never had to give before. It means hours of rigorous training, endless cram school, and absolute devotion. But most importantly, it means spending less and less time with you. And that’s something he simply cannot tolerate.
Daichi absolutely refuses to let you slip away. He refuses to let you drift off into your own path — to have you discover what’s best for you. There is no I, and there are no individual needs — not when it comes to the two of you. Not when it comes to your relationship. It’s why he’s so insistent on having you becoming his manager, even though nationals are just a few weeks away and his volleyball career is coming to an end.
He tried sticking it out, simply waiting for the season to finish, but you've been acting so different lately. You’ve been acting so coy.
Are you trying to make him jealous? Or are you just being a slut?
Either way, he shakes his head, he can’t spend any more time away from you. He has to have you around, at all times. To watch over you, to keep you safe, to keep you in line, to keep you from growing apart… It’s why he got down on his hands and knees, grovelling at his coaches’ feet, promising them months worth of chores and errands — if only they’d give you a chance.
To Daichi, no sacrifice is too big when it comes to love. Given the right circumstances, he’s more than confident that he would do anything for you — regardless of moral integrity and societal guidelines.
It only makes sense.
It’s only right.
But it’s not right, and it’s not natural. Daichi’s feelings are twisted, uncontrollable, and perverse.
These moments of reflection are the reason why he’s doing this. It’s the reason why he’s shifting away from you, gently tugging his arm from your grasp. It’s why he’s so desperate to hide the not-so-subtle bulge beginning to tent in his pants.
You pout, hands tugging playfully at his sleeve, voice dripping with honey. “What’s wrong?”
Daichi just rolls his eyes, a large breath of frozen air huffing past his lips as he turns his gaze towards you. You raise your eyebrow in question as he shakes his head.
“It’s too early,” he tells you, pausing to formulate a response. You can only guess it goes unsuccessfully based on the words that slip from his mouth. “I can’t think right now. Just act like yourself and it’ll all be fine. They’ll like you.”
“Wow,” you scoff, releasing his sleeve and crossing your arms over your chest. “Thanks for the advice, dad.”
Daichi almost trips at your comment, nearly stumbling face-first into the snowbank.
“D-dad?” His voice is full of shock, eyes wide with surprise. It’s not unwelcome. No, it’s quite the opposite. He just has to check. He just has to be sure.
“Yeah…?” You answer, brows furrowed, and face scrunched with annoyance. “If you’re gonna give me such dad advice, then that’s what I’m going to call you.”
If not for the winter chill, you might laugh at the way his cheeks flush from your insult. For once in his life, Daichi’s grateful for his blandness, for his dry sense of advice. He thinks it’s good that you’re getting used to this, that you’re already calling him dad. It’ll make the transition easier. It won't be long before that name holds weight to it, before he finally earns the title.
With hands stuffed deep into your pockets, you struggle to keep up with your companion. Originally, you’d tried to get him to slow down, to maintain some semblance of discussion. But after a few missed attempts at conversation, you decide to call it quits. It’s obvious to you, by the quick pace and the stern look in his eyes, that Daichi’s way too caught up in his own thoughts to entertain yours.
You suppose it only makes sense. It’s a big day for him — a big week. He’s got more important things to think about than you…
By the time you two arrive at the school, you’re completely out of breath. Daichi likes to make fun of you, nudging playfully at your lack of fitness — but you never claimed to be an athlete. Unlike Daichi, you don’t thrive off beating your body to a pulp.
It’s a little eerie.
Coming here so early, wandering the dark, uninhabited campus. You’ve never seen it like this, and honestly, you hope you’ll never have to again. If Daichi notices your unsteady gait, or the nervous shake of your legs, he doesn’t say a word. And for what it counts, his actions and his confidence help to slightly ease your mind.
A distant crash has you jolting back, a small yelp rushing past your lips as you hide yourself behind the volleyball captain. Instinctively, you clutch the fabric of his jacket in your mitted fists, pressing your body tightly against his. You don’t think much of it, it’s just a reflex. Of course you’d latch on to Daichi, there’s no other option.
But to the stoic captain, it’s so much more than that. Pride wells in the base of his chest knowingly that subconsciously, you look to him for protection.
When you peer around his shoulder, warning Daichi in a frantic frenzy to be careful of the supernatural forces rumoured to hide throughout school grounds, the dark-haired man just chuckles. “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he reasons. “It’s likely just a custodian, maybe even that stray cat we saw the other day.”
You squint your eyes in skepticism before huffing away in a feeble attempt to hide your embarrassment. You’re not too convinced by his words, but objectively, you know he’s right… You’d rather die than admit it though.
“I’m not afraid,” you retort, “I’ve just got good reflexes. It could’ve been a mugger or something really scary, you know?”
Daichi hides a wide smile behind a gloved hand. “Alright,” he chuckles. “If you say so.” His tone is filled with playful disbelief, and while you know he’s not being malicious, your pride drives you to pull out in front of him. To charge on blindly ahead. You're overcome with the sudden need to prove you’re not the baby he thinks you are.
But much like all good things in life, your misguided attempt at bravery is only met with blinding disappointment.
You almost cry as you turn the corner, as you come crashing into a six-foot wall of muscles. You open your mouth to apologize, but you can only manage a deep-rooted yelp as flighty eyes meet dark, heavily bagged browns. You don’t get a good look at the figure in front of you, but you honestly don’t want to. From what you did see, you know that you’re terrified.
Pale skin, harsh shadows, long, unkempt, unruly hair… There's only one thing this could be. Some kind of materialized— “Ghost...!”
If you weren’t so scared, you might’ve screamed. That seems like the logical thing to do. Instead, all that comes out is a frazzled whimper before you’re tumbling back, slipping on the ice, and falling directly into Daichi’s arms. With your head buried deep into his chest, and your arms wrapped tightly around his torso, you beg for him to make it go away, to fight off this hideous demon. When Daichi doesn’t make a move, you silently plead with the creature, with your voice muffled by fabric, that you’re not nearly as tasty as he thinks.
The next few moments pass by in a flurry of embarrassment, for you, and for the tall figure behind you. Daichi’s laugh and the shake of his gut is the only thing you focus on as your face starts to heat up with confusion.
When you ask him why he’s laughing, a tiny fist pounding on his chest, he simply tells you to turn around, to look at this so-called ghost.
When you do, with the help of Daichi’s hands forcing your head in the right direction, you can’t say you’re any less afraid. In front of you is still that tall, scruffy-looking figure. But the longer you look, the more familiar he becomes. With a few more blinks, and the profuse, almost indiscernible apologies spilling from the giant’s lips — you realize your mistake.
You’re not sure who’s more embarrassed by this whole situation, you, or Asahi.
“Please,” he pleads, hands clasped tightly in front of his face. “I didn't mean to scare you! It’s just the lighting, or the hair. I was in a real rush this morning; I swear I’ll never wear it like this again!”
The two of you enter a dialogue of repetitive, desperate apologies. Both of you are eager to put this situation behind you, but not before reliving the trauma in a cringe-worthy series of hand motions and deeply apologetic bows.
The three of you must’ve been louder than you thought because in a matter of minutes, a man you recognize as Daichi’s best friend, Sugawara, comes barrelling around the corner. He squints his eyes with his hands on his hips, quickly assessing the situation and demanding an explanation. It’s not hard to put the pieces together, not when he’s known you and the other two boys for as long as he has.
Before you can even try to defend yourself, Daichi’s already speaking up. “It’s alright, Suga,” a residual laugh bubbling from his chest as he recalls the story. “We were just about to head over. Asahi just gave our little one quite the fright. She thought he was a ghost.”
You jump in, desperate to defend yourself. “But I—his face—that crash—”
“The crash? That was just Nishinoya, our libero.” The silver-haired man shrugs off your concern with a small smile before glancing down at his watch, brows furrowing as he reads the time.
“Let’s go,” he motions with his hands. “We don’t want to be late. I doubt the coaches would wait, not with the mood coach Ukai’s in.”
As Daichi drags you behind him, with his hand tightly clenched around yours, you think back to Suga’s words, about how their coach is in a mood. Part of you wants to back out, to tell Daichi that it’s not the right time. You’ve already made a bad impression with your tardiness; you can try again another time. It’s not too late… It’s too bad that Daichi knows you better than that. He’s not blind to the way you’ve tensed up, to the way you’ve drawn into yourself.
That’s why he’s taken your hand so tightly in his, it’s why he refuses to slow down or ease up his grip. This is the way it has to be. He’s not doing this for himself. He’s not even doing it for you. He’s doing this for the concept of ‘us’.
When the three of you arrive at the gym’s rear entrance, the large bus is just about done being filled with the team's luggage. Knowing you’d be late and forgetful, Daichi took the liberty of leaving both his and your bags with the coaches ahead of time. Something you make sure to thank him for.
Scanning the group of boys gathered just off to the side of the bus, you recognize almost all of them. You might even be able to list them off by name if you really tried. They greet you with a series of mixed responses. Some happy and bursting with energy, some with disdain, and others just indifferent. You just give them a small wave. You don’t need to be any more stressed out, you just need to relax. That’s what Daichi tells you before he’s standing in front of you, blocking the path to and from his teammates.
In all of the chaos, there’s just one man you don’t recognize, one man that makes your legs start to tremble.
You almost miss the obvious social cue, the deep bows of respect that both Daichi, and his two teammates present to this older man. There’s nothing surprising about him. He isn’t weird or out of the ordinary. The man in front of you is average in height with a short grey hair and a tiny beard on his chin to match. Despite the deeply etched wrinkles, and the clear sun-worn skin, he appears to be well-built and athletic.
So why is it that you can’t look away? Why is it that this man has such a hold over you?
It’s only when Daichi clears his throat, tugging gently on your sleeve, that you heat up with embarrassment. You cringe internally as you bow to your senior. Your initial impressions just seem to be getting worse.
When the three of you rise, Daichi introduces the man as Ukai Ikkei, the old coach of Karasuno, the man who led the crows to their first National Tournament. You’ve heard a lot about him, it would be impossible not to, not when he was Daichi’s first serious coach. You remember the rumours, the strict and brutal training routines, the bruises that would litter Daichi’s skin. Last you heard, his old coach had collapsed from exhaustion, having to be hospitalized for his frailty. So that raises the question, what is he doing here?
As if reading your mind, Daichi answers your question. “Old coach Ukai is just here to oversee our team’s training camp. He’s here to point out things that our current coach or Takeda-sensei might miss.”
You nod with understanding, never once taking your eyes off the older man in front of you. As the smells of cigarettes grow stronger, Daichi points out the current coaches, Ukai Keishin and Takeda Ittetsu. Keishin isn’t too pleased to be here, certainly not at this hour, with this group of people. His tone is bitter and confrontational as he tries to rope in the first years, rubbing a hand angrily over his face. But then he sees you, and that’s when the dynamic really starts to change.
Unlike his older counterpart, the faux blonde — who you learn is his grandson — shamelessly runs his eyes over your body. You look to Daichi for help, almost expecting him to tell the older male off — but he doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t even notice, too engrossed in the pep talk being given by Takeda-sensei, much like the rest of his teammates, unable to pick up on anything else.
When it’s Keishin’s turn to speak, he and his grandfather seem to be constantly bickering. Most of the conversation is lost on you, but in the end, the younger reluctantly admits that the team is really lucky to have such an asset on their side. An asset you all should make use of…
It’s obvious that you’re uncomfortable, Daichi can feel the way you not-so-subtly tug at his arm, the way you try to slip your hands together, fingers wiggling desperately to be intertwined with his. But Daichi ignores it, shoving his hand into his pocket, blaming your wandering touch on your anxiety and nerves. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it is just nerves… But there’s something off about the way old coach Ukai stares you down, cold eyes subtly raking down your body.
If not for the tug of your sleeve, you could’ve stayed frozen forever. “Come on,” Daichi teases, “you don’t want to get left behind, do you?” His smile is contagious, and you can’t help but mirror it back as he finally takes your hand, and leads you onto the bus behind him.
Daichi’s responsible, hardworking, and feels a strong sense of accountability. Both for his team, his life, and for you. It’s one of the many things you love about Daichi. But in this moment, as you scan the relatively empty bus, you start to think it’s more of a flaw.
No one wants to sit at the front of the bus; that’s where all the coaches are, where all the no-fun, buzzkill adults go to stew. It just so happens that’s exactly where Daichi sits, just adjacent to the two coach Ukais’. As you plant yourself next to Daichi, body pressing tightly against his, he couldn’t be happier.
You whisper in his ear, begging him to let you two move, begging him to let you sit with people your own age. Or at the very least, to let you sit by the window — away from the coaches who make you feel so… uncomfortable. But Daichi just shakes his head. He says you have too big of an imagination. He says you need this, that this is a good opportunity to get comfortable with the coaches. It’s the perfect chance to settle your nerves.
The way you instantly resist, begging the captain to reconsider — it only reinforces his ideals. You know you’ve lost the battle when he opens his bag and pulls out an eye mask. Daichi raises his eyebrows, almost begging you to challenge him. When you don’t, just sticking out your lip in a feeble pout, he slides the padding over his eyes with a soft smile.
As the bus pulls out of the school's parking lot, you sigh in defeat. You try your best to ignore the lingering chills running up your spine. But it’s impossible when you feel eyes roaming every inch of your body. In sheer panic, you can’t help the glances you sneak over to the coach's seat.
You feel a little silly, the two aren’t even looking in your direction. To be fair, why would they? Not even Takeda-sensei, who’s sitting right in front of you, is paying you any mind. He’s never even spared a glance in your direction, either directly, or through the rearview mirror.
Instead of the travelling eyes and tented pants you all but convinced yourself there’d be, all you see is two adults arguing over who would get to use the younger man’s phone.
There’s no reason for you to feel nervous…so why can’t you shake the deep sense of dread pooling in your gut? That creeping feeling, the shivers running down your spine? You must have just been imagining it…
The only one with malicious intent, is you. You’re the one conducting wild stories and allegations of misdemeanours, and you’re the one making things weird. So, in the end, just like Daichi said, you guess this will be good for you… This is good for you.
A little discomfort is nothing if it helps bring a smile to your captain’s face.
After the first fifteen minutes, the bus becomes abnormally silent — at least for one filled with teenage boys. As the streetlights flash past your eyes, the only sounds in the vehicle are the rattles of the engine and the snores of the team. A quick glance behind your seat brings a soft smile to your face. It’s such a change to see these normally high-energy boys finally still with exhaustion.
Most of the ride is spent this way. With the team fast asleep and the coaches muttering silent game plans to themselves. You on the other hand spend most of the bus ride gazing out the window, head resting gently against Daichi’s shoulder. Every now and then you get this feeling, this sense of nausea bubbling deep in your gut, an inkling of being watched. But every time you look around, every time your eyes dart around the bus, there’s nothing. It’s all in your mind…
As the bus continues to travel, over the various bumps and cracks of the worn-down roads, you find yourself lulled into a drowsy state, into a deep state of sleep.
The click of a camera is what jolts you awake. That and a flash of white. You let out a strangled gasp as you rub the sleep from your eyes, gaze darting around trying to put two and two together, trying to get a feel of your surroundings.
The first thing you notice is the way your thigh is propped on top of Daichi’s. The way your legs are spread open, a cool breeze brushing against your overly exposed skin. Your face heats up with embarrassment as you notice the way your skirt has been lifted. It’s high, a little too high.
Somehow, the soft fabric has been pushed up your thighs, resting in a bunch against your stomach. It’s impossible to miss the way your position leaves you vulnerable, both your pulled aside panties, and your puffy little cunt on full display.
The only thing that makes matters worse is when you lift your eyes, when they meet soft browns in the rearview mirror of the bus. You stare in shock as Takeda-sensei never once breaks eye contact, sweat beading off his forehead as he punches his glasses further up onto his face. You only come back to your senses, squeezing your legs shut with a yelp as the faculty advisors’ eyes drop down in the mirror, gaze lowering to catch a glimpse of what’s between your legs.
You don’t even know how it happened, how your panties managed to slip aside, how your skirt somehow hiked its way up your thighs. Could all that really just have been from subconsciously propping your leg upon Daichi’s?
A groan from beside you is almost completely tuned out as you frantically whip your head around, desperate to see if anyone else saw.
“What’s wrong?” Daichi lifts his eye mask, voice groggy with exhaustion. You don’t answer, eyes searching wildly to find out where the flash and click of the camera came from.
But there’s nothing.
Aside from Takeda, everyone else is asleep. Everyone except the elderly, dead to the world bus driver, of course. Looking up into the mirror, you’re not even sure the faculty advisor was even awake to begin with. Now all you see is the sleeping reflection of the dark-haired man, paired with a stream of drool leaking from the side of his mouth. You’re startled by this revelation.
The camera you thought you heard, the flash you thought you saw? There’s nothing here to indicate any sort of foul play. Looking to your right. The only thing you see is both Ikkei and Keishin drifted off into a deep sleep, the older one clasping a phone in his arthritic fist. It couldn’t have been him who took your picture though. Not when he’s fast asleep, music blaring from his headphones and heavy snores sounding from his body. It couldn’t have been Ikkei, not when just earlier, he couldn’t even figure out how to turn the device on.
You rub your eyes, in a last-ditch attempt to piece things together. You don’t understand what’s happening. Could you really be imagining these things?
A gentle tap to your shoulder has you jolting back in shock. Daichi tilts his head and furrows his brows in concern. “Everything alright?”
You shake your head. “I’m not sure I can do this Daichi…”
Warm hands cushion your face and soft lips press against your forehead. “Yes. You can. I know you can.” His voice is filled with reassurance. “I need you here. With me, by my side.” Daichi pulls back as he searches your eyes. “You understand, don't you?”
You nod your head, heart beginning to calm as he rubs gentle circles into your burning cheeks.
You’re just tired. That’s what you tell yourself as you swallow down the bile building at the base of your throat.
You’re just nervous. It only makes sense with so much riding on the line, with how much Daichi expects from you. Nothing’s wrong, not when he’s here to watch over you. You should know that by now.
Who can you trust if not your oldest friend, if not your greatest protector?
You close your eyes as he praises your obedience. “That’s my good little girl.”
Daichi whispers soft reassurances as he runs a hand running through your hair. “You’ll go back to sleep for me, right?”
You want to say no, you want to shake your head in defiance… But how can you when he wraps his arms around you, when he smothers you up in his soothing scent? Daichi turns your body to bring your legs across his, gently rubbing his hand along the expanse of your thighs in slow, soothing motions.
You hum out in protest as he moves his hands away, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a bottle of familiar pills. “Daichi…” you start, nervousness leaking from your voice. “I don’t, I don’t need those anymore.
“Shhhh,” he coos. “I know. I know you don’t. But I do.”
You raise your brows in confusion, a nervous sweat building on your brow. “W-what?”
“You’ve been so stressed lately, with school, with work, and now with this.” His voice is calm as he slowly articulates each word. “I know you haven’t been getting enough rest. It would make me feel so much better if I knew my precious little girl was well taken care of, if she was in her best condition. If she was on her best behaviour…” He waits for your reaction. “Do you think that you’re on your best behaviour right now?” His tone gives you the answer. He doesn’t even need to say it. You know you're not. You’ve been so nervous, so jumpy… Everything you know that makes Daichi mad.
You turn your gaze away from his, choosing instead to focus on the hem of your skirt, on the panties you still haven’t pulled back into place…
“Please,” he insists, bottle rattling as he twists open the cap and pours a single tablet into his palm. “Just one. Just for me.”
“But Daichi,” you plead, “I can sleep on my own now. I don’t need your help—”
You almost cringe at the dark frown that overtakes his features, at the tight grip he places on your thigh once the bottle is safely back inside his bag. You realize your mistake almost as soon as you’ve said it. Your eyes widen and your face blanches with fear. “That’s not what I meant!”
You expect to be told off, to immediately be reprimanded for your carelessness, for your poor choice of words. You flinch backwards, almost throwing yourself off his lap as a hand reaches up towards your face.
Instead, all you receive is sad eyes and a deep sigh.
“Don’t you see?” He questions, voice heavy with exhaustion. “This,” he motions to your trembling form, “is exactly why you need my help, why you need this.”
Daichi holds up the pill between his thumb and his finger. He says it’s a sleeping pill, and realistically, you know you have nothing to fear. It’s not like you’re new to this. You’ve had these sleeping pills before. You just don’t like the way they’ve been making you feel as of late. You don’t like the way you wake up dishevelled, clothes often stained and a mess. Daichi says it’s because you're so restless in bed, always rolling around and spilling lotions from the bedside table. He says he tries his best to keep them away, but sometimes it can’t be helped when you’re thrashing around.
You suppose he’s right. You have no reason not to believe him…
But you don’t want to take it. You don’t want to lose control like that, to potentially embarrass yourself in front of everyone here. Seeing the conflict in your eyes, Daichi is quick to reassure you that everything will be okay, that he’ll stay awake and make sure you don’t do anything inappropriate.
Just like always, Daichi will take care of you.
What choice do you have but to listen, to nod your head in agreeance. Every protest you have is met with an instant rebuttal, a perfectly thought-out reason as to why you’re wrong. Eventually, you have nothing left to protest.
“Open up,” he says, slowly lifting the pill to your puffy lips. When you hesitate, Daichi’s voice loses its softness and gains a harsher edge. “I said, open up.”
It’s clear that words aren’t enough, so Daichi’s forced to make things physical. You gasp as he uses his free hand to grip your thigh tighter, painfully squeezing at your flesh. You cry as he slips his finger past your lips, pushing the small pill to the back of your mouth. You gag as you feel it against your throat, desperately wanting the foreign objects out of your mouth.
“Stop before I make you.” He bites out his warning angrily as you squirm around on his lap. “Close your mouth and take it.”
A damp sweat begins to build on your brow as you think of the ways he could punish you, as you think of the ways he could embarrass you. His tone and the bruising grip on your leg leave no room for negotiation. You stop struggling, gently wrapping your lips around his finger.
“Good girl,” he praises, harsh eyes meeting your own. “Now suck, and swallow.”
Your face heats up at his words, eyes dashing around to see if anyone heard the degrading words spilling from their captains lips.
A tsk rolls off Daichi's lips as you move your attention elsewhere, away from him. The longer you’re awake, the less patience he has. In a fit of irritation, Daichi takes his free hand and clasps your chin between his thumb and finger. You wince at the pressure, eyes pleading for him to be more gentle. You find no such mercy as he turns your head, forcing you to once again meet his gaze. Daichi brings his lips to brush against your ear, voice coming out harshly against the sensitive flesh.
“I said, suck. And swallow.”
When you still don’t listen, Daichi digs his nails into the plush of your thigh. “Don’t be such a brat.”
At the searing pain, you arch your back and moan out around his digit. Afraid of the consequences, you choose to obey. When he feels the suction and the swallowing motion of your mouth, he releases your leg. Only when he sees your throat bob with spit does he run a soothing hand over the injuries he inflicted.
Tears prickle your eyes as he presses his finger roughly against your tongue, opening your mouth obscenely wide. “Good girl,” he coos, satisfied that you chose the easy path.
Your jaw begins to ache as he prods around your mouth, thoroughly searching for any trace of disobedience, any sign of a little white pill. When he doesn’t find any, you think that you’re done, you think you’re finally able to rest. With his hand no longer gripping your chin, and his finger no longer lodged in your mouth, you give your jaw a good stretch before closing it with a snap.
But it doesn’t end there.
Things like this can’t be easily overlooked. A pill hidden underneath a tongue, somewhere his finger can’t reach. Daichi has to be thorough, he has to be sure. That’s why he presses his lip against yours. It’s why he wraps his hand tightly at the base of your neck, and it’s why you willingly open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam freely.
He knows you don’t like this. You never do. But you know better than to resist.
You’re smarter than that.
Daichi says it’s the only way to properly check if you’ve taken your medication, and you believe him. Whenever you’ve been sick, completely bedridden, and unable to move, Daichi’s always been the one to take care of you. You simply don’t know any other way, or any different solutions. This is how it’s always been between you two, and you’ve always gotten better. That must mean it works. It must mean it’s right.
Besides, there’s nothing romantic about this kiss. He’s not taking advantage of you.
There’s nothing romantic about the way he plunges his tongue underneath yours, the way he runs it across your teeth, moaning loudly against your lips…
That's what you tell yourself, but the trembling of your body tells a different story. Subconsciously, you can’t help the way you melt into his touch, the way your thighs rub together, desperate for any kind of fiction. It’s almost embarrassing how worked up you’re getting, especially knowing that Daichi is just doing this to make sure you’re healthy, to make sure you’re taking your medicine properly.
He’s just a friend.
When he’s angry, he sometimes calls you a whore. And while it hurts, you never get angry, you never get upset. It’s because at times like this, when you feel the slick beginning to build between your legs, you have to admit, Daichi’s always right.
Only whores would get wet from sitting in their best friend’s lap, from having a finger and pill shoved deep in their mouth. And only whores would think of fucking their friend after such a platonic kiss — if you can even call it that.
You feel guilty for the way your body responds. You think it’s dirty and disgusting. But no matter how hard you try; you can’t seem to pull yourself away. Not that Daichi would let you. Everything you do is because he wants you to, even if you'll never realize that.
If Daichi notices the way your body reacts, he doesn’t say a thing. It’s an act he knows you’re grateful for. You’re much too shy to ever admit to liking something like this, something so filthy.
So instead of bringing it up, or rubbing his fingers along your leaking little cunt, he just deepens the kiss, lips smacking roughly against yours as he searches for a pill he won’t find.
When he pulls away, you’re seeing stars. A fat glob of spit connects the two of your mouths. You watch as it breaks, swinging off to drip down your chin. Daichi’s gently huffing while your lungs pant heavily with exhaustion. He finds it adorable, the way he affects you, the way you’re left desperately trying to catch your breath.
Your heart beats frantically as Daichi leans towards you. You almost think he’s going to kiss you again. But instead, he dips lower, his tongue outstretched as he runs it along your skin. You shiver as he drags the muscle up your neck and onto your chin, lapping up the spit dripping from your mouth, and pulling pack to gather up more within his mouth.
You know what’s coming before he even says a word. Just like the good girl that you are, you sit there, eyes glazed with lust, and mouth open wide for your punishment.
Daichi wells with pride. If only you behaved like this all the time. So good, so obedient.
Loud moans leave your throats as Daichi roughly tilts your head back, as he leans over your open mouth. The two of you never break eye contact as a thick glob of your combined spit drips from his mouth, and onto your outstretched tongue.
It’s an intimate notion, one that far surpasses this idea of friendship that you carry so deep within your heart. But you never question it, you just know that it’s right.
You rest your head in the crook of his neck as your eyes begin to droop. Daichi continues to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you that everything’s going to be alright. You don't have to be scared, there’s no reason for you to act like this — not when he’s here.
But despite all of his soft and gentle words, Daichi’s absolutely fuming. He was less than pleased with your behaviour today. Running late, insulting his friends, insulting his coaches — and telling him you don’t need him anymore. He doesn’t like that you’ve been acting out, not like this, not right now. Do you not understand how important this is?
In order to become a manager, you have to make a good impression on not one — but three of his coaches.
After everything he does for you, this is how you repay him? By acting like a scared little schoolgirl? By shrinking away from the most important people in his life right now?
You’re far from the image of confidence and grace, something that has Daichi grinding his molars in frustration. The only thing that makes it tolerable is the fact that Yachi’s worse.
Maybe he’s been too kind to you, and maybe he needs to teach you a lesson. And maybe that lesson has to start now.
Daichi gently prods at your form, shaking your shoulders to check for any kind of response.
“Are you awake, princess?”
Nothing… no response. Just the smooth rise and fall of your chest. Daichi reaches his hand between your legs, slowly spreading your meaty thighs as he lifts you onto his lap.
A loud moan leaves his lips as he feels your weight against his cock, as he feels the plush of your ass rubbing against him with every bump of the bus. He’s careful to lift the hems of your skirt, gently tucking them into the top band of the article.
Daichi’s voice is rough and raspy as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, as he holds your hips in a bruising embrace. “You’re such a tease, you know that right?”
Daichi moves his hand up the flesh of your thighs, resting it gently against the puffy folds of your cunt. “Fuck,” he bites, fingers already soaked with your juices. You cry out as he slaps his fingers roughly against your clit, your sleep-induced brain just barely comprehending what’s happening. “You’re such a little slut, getting wet for daddy like this.”
When all you do is groan, shifting erotically in his lap, he knows you like this. He knows that you’re ready, he knows that you want this. It’s what spurs him to lift your body, to slip down his track pants and boxers, and to let his throbbing cock slap gently against your drooling pussy.
You shiver as he taps his cock against your sensitive clit, as he runs its length against your cunt. He can almost imagine being inside of you, of fucking the disobedience out of you.
Daichi's breath begins to hitch as the thick, dark head of his cock presses gently against your hole, as it slowly starts to disappear inside you.
His eyes start to well as you tighten around him, as he fuck you with just the tip of his cock. Daichi’s arms are shaking, begging him to let you go, to let you fall all the way onto his throbbing cock. Every time his leaking head presses against your hymen, he practically cums. As Daichi continues to thrust, in short, painfully controlled motions, he’s desperate just to take you, to make you bleed, to make you fucking cum all over his desperate cock.
But he can’t. He won’t.
The first time between you two will be different, it’ll be romantic. It won’t be on some scuffed-up bus with his whole team behind him, and it won’t be when you're deep in the clutches of unconsciousness.
He’ll have you pleading for his cock, begging for him to fuck you bare — to fill you with his fucking seed.
Daichi’s panting, almost crying out, as he lifts you off his cock, as he lets it bounce against his abdomen. His cock angrily throbs against nothing, desperate to be deep inside your dripping heat.
His only relief is when he slouches over, when he places your cunt against his fattened along cock, and when he fucks you back and forth along the ridge of his shaft.
Daichi throws his head back in pleasure as he runs his fingers up and down your slick, tilting your head back with his other hand. “I bet you wanted this,” he moans against your ear, “I bet you wanted me to punish you like this. Always such a fucking brat. Always pushing daddy’s patience.”
Daichi wraps a hand tightly around your throat as he shifts his hips to alleviate the pressure, as he fucks his cock against your tight little ass.
“Look at you,” he groans, feeling his balls pulse with pleasure. “Letting me fuck you like this, on this dirty fucking bus.”
“You, you like this?” He can barely even articulate his words as he pants and moans against your trembling form. “Coming undone like, like a whore, fuck—panties already soaked, pushed to the side, for easy access—”
“You wanted this, fuck—! You wanted me hard, you wanted to fucking blueball me all day. Is that what this was?” Daichi wraps his hand tighter around your throat. “That’s not going to happen, you little brat!” he cries out, biting back his words as he continues to grind against your supple body. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum all over this cute little pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
His body convulses at the words, and the way you seem to know what he’s saying — even in your sleep.
Daichi pauses, ripping his cock out from under you, using his callused hand to furiously pump his length. The bus is filled with his heavy breath, with deep grunts as he fucks his fist, as precum splashes all over your heated skin.
“I’m gonna cum—!” Daichi’s practically crying at this point, body shaking with pleasure. His fat cock just barely fits in his hand as it angrily throbs, as it leaks all over his fingers.
“Fuck baby, please! Please, please, please—” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for, he just knows that he needs you.
He needs to know that you want this, that you want him.
He’s so fucking desperate.
“I need to cum! Please let me!” His strangled cries fill the otherwise silent bus. He just barely registers that the coaches are awake, that Ikkei’s palming his cock, eyes never leaving your pretty little cunt. Unknown to Daichi, Ikkei’s been recording the whole scene, just meters away with his grandson's phone.
Your strangled moans are the permission Daichi needs. Within a matter of seconds, he’s violently exploding all over his hand, and all over your pretty little cunt. Hot ropes of cum splash across your puffy little lips and he rides out his high, hot breath heaving over your sensitive skin.
When Daichi finally regains his composure, tucking his cock back into his pants, he takes a moment to admire his work. He loves the way you look, mouth hung open from exhaustion, cunt dripping and covered with his cum. He knows you’re unsatisfied, that you still need to cum. Your ass wiggles desperately against his crotch, begging for something you don’t even know you need. A lazy smile spreads across his lip as he brings his fingers to your core, spreading his cum across your pretty little cunt. Making sure to pay close attention to your hardened nub.
The splotches on your panties and skirt are sure to stain, but Daichi thinks you look best like this. And he’s not the only one.
A quiet whimper squeaks out from the seat in front of you two and Daichi raises his brows, gaze lifting to the rearview mirror. He smirks at the sight in front of him, knowing that you’re the reason for such a dirty perversion.
Takeda sits with his legs wide open, sweatpants just low enough for his cock and balls to comfortably rest against the top. His face is red and dripping with sweat as he gasps for air. All the while he furiously pumps at his aching, swollen cock. The purple head leaks with globs of precum as he cries out in pleasure. If he listens carefully, Daichi can even hear the squelch of Takeda’s fist as he fucks his throbbing cock.
Daichi matches the rhythm of Takeda’s strokes, rubbing the pads of his fingers in tandem against your swollen clit. You arch your back, moaning in pleasure as you feel your body getting closer to the edge.
Takeda can’t resist another peek, his eyes shooting open at your needy whines.
It feels so wrong, stroking his cock the sounds of your moans. He knows it’s not right; a grown man shouldn’t be thinking this way about a third year student, but he just can’t help it. You’re just too pretty, too inviting.
Takeda’s gaze lands on your body, specifically that pretty little pussy covered in the remnants of sticky cum. His eyes trail upwards, balls clenching with the need to fill your sloppy little cunt with his globbing seed.
Daichi’s eyes meet Takeda’s in that moment, as you convulse around his fingers, as Takeda cums all over his fist, his body violently jerky from watching you cream all over the captain's lap. He tries to stifle his moans with his hand, teeth biting down roughly in his fist, utterly humiliated by the way he’s yelling with pleasure.
But Takeda’s completely overwhelmed, he can’t help it. He’s never actually seen a pussy as pretty as yours. Or any pussy at all. Certainly not in person.
Unlike before, when Takeda’s caught in the act, the faculty advisor is furiously red — trying his hardest to look anywhere but at Daichi.
“You like that, huh?” It’s unclear whether he’s talking to Ikkei, Takeda, or your sleeping form. All three have their faces burning with embarrassment and lust, subconscious or not.
Daichi’s breath washes over your face as he brings his lips down to meet yours, as he gently cups your heated cheek. He continues to rub your clit with soft, soothing strokes. Your body trembles as he gently brings you down from your high, soft whimpers dripping from your lips. If he’s going to have so many prying eyes, he might as well put on a show.
It’s an awkward angle, your back pressed against his chest, your faces twisted off to the side, knees pressed taught against the seat in front of you two. Daichi scoffs in irritation. His only solution is to shift the two of you. Both for comfort, and a better view.
Daichi eyes the older male as he turns your bodies, as he props himself in the corner of the seat, bracing his back against his bag and the bus. He props up his leg along the length of the seat, bringing yours to rest on top of it. Your head lulls against his shoulder and he picks up your other leg, draping it gently across his other one, firmly planted on the ground.
With one hand across your abdomen, and the other spreading your glistening folds, Daichi knows he’s playing a dangerous game.
He almost expects the grizzly old coach to snap at him, to tell him what he’s doing is wildly inappropriate.
But he doesn’t. Instead, Daichi watches as wrinkly, swollen hands reach into grey sweatpants. He watches as his old coach pulls out a slowly hardening cock and huge, drooping balls.
As opposed to the flustered advisor, Coach Ikkei has no shame. He stares openly at the couple, tongue darting out to wet his parched lips. A silent moan leaves his throat when his gaze drops between your legs.
Daichi chuckles, “you like what you see, old man?” Daichi’s never felt so much power. He'd never even dreamed of such a scenario, speaking so disrespectfully to his elders, spreading his property on a bus — it's too much for imagination. He’s confident this is too good to be true, he’s waiting for the book to come slamming down on his head.
But as Ikkei swallows back a thick glob of spit, face flushed and head nodding in response, Daichi knows he won’t face any repercussions.
Feeling generous, Daichi decides to give his old coach a little treat. He doesn’t see the harm in it, and it’s not like you'll ever know. Besides, it’s not like this old man sees much action these days anyway. Not according to Keishin.
Ikkei's voice comes out strained and panting. Daichi can barely hear him over the hum of the bus.
“Has she, has she ever… had anyone inside?”
Daichi just smirks, knowing exactly what this old man wants from his sweet little girl. “Just me,” he chuckles, “and just the tip.”
Ikkei’s pupils are blown out with lust as he watches the captain rub his fingers along the length of your cunt, as your slick continues to coat his rigid digits.
Daichi shakes his head in amusement before sucking and biting gently at the skin of your neck. You moan out in pain as you rock your body against his chest.
“F-fuck!” Ikkei grunts, furiously tugging at his half-hard cock and his saggy, wrinkly balls.
Ikkei huffs angrily and he pumps his length, gritting his teeth in frustration as it refuses to rise or get any stiffer. Daichi just winces, grateful he’s not an invalid like that. He shakes his head at the thought. If that were the case, he’d never be able to please you.
A voice breaks you all from your thoughts. The sleeping faux blonde, with his hands crossed over his chest, peeks open a lidded eye. “You should let him have a taste. The nasty old man gets off to stuff like that.”
Daichi sits and ponders the implications, the idea that someone other than himself would be touching you. He wants to say no, to say this is going too far, but Keishin cuts him off before he can even get a single syllable.
“I bet if you let him, gramps would be more likely to let your precious little baby onto the team.” Keishin’s fully awake now, eyes focused on Daichi’s. “You want that, don’t you? You want your little friend to stay close to you, where you can watch over her, right?”
Daichi gulps back his response, answering only with a small nod. Of course he does.
“Wouldn’t it be easier if she were your manager? Coming with you no matter where you went? You have no idea what she’ll get up to if you leave her behind… Who’ll sneak up and steal your place… Especially when you’re gone for those long, far away nationals.”
Daichi can’t argue, everything his coach is saying is right. He can’t leave you, it’s just not safe. With sad eyes, Daichi peers down at your sleeping form, debating the consequences of his solemn nod.
“Good.” Keishin grins, knowing he’s caught the captain in a web of obsession and insecurities. “Then we have an understanding.”
“F-fine,” Daichi starts, “but only your mouth.”
Ikkei scoffs, rolling his eyes in irritation but nodding in agreeance. Without a further word, you're ripped from Daichi’s arms, legs pulled roughly across the seat of the bus as Daichi bites back his anger, settling for a harsh glare and a snarl of his lip. “Be careful!” He snaps, but the old man pays him no mind as he crouches between your legs.
With your legs propped over his shoulder, and your core perfectly lined up with the seat of the bus, Ikkei wastes no time lapping feverishly at your cunt.
As his tongue runs sloppy patterns over your soaking slit, Ikkei’s hips thrust feebly into the air, desperate for any kind of friction.
Ikkei moans loudly, humming tunes of pleasure into the soft folds of your cunt and he laps up the remainder of your cum, of Daichi’s. Reaching a hand down, he finds his cock already painfully hard, ready to burst at the seams. Even touching it has Ikkei wincing out in pain and overstimulation.
Daichi watches with disgust written across his features. It’s not right the way your body’s starting to tremble under this old man’s ministrations, and it’s not right how he finds himself growing hard, cock beginning to leak as he watches this offender lap at your cunt.
Ikkei’s wild thrusts have his phone dropping to the floor, a noise that only Keishin tunes into.
Loud and sloppy sound of sucking, paired with feral grunts and the squelching of hands on cocks are all that can be heard.
A look in the mirror, and a look to his right show Daichi that his two coaches, Takeda and Keishin, are furiously pumping their cocks. He knows he should call this off, he knows this isn’t worth it.
But the throbbing in his cock tells him a different story. Daichi’s mouth is parched. His heart is beating faster than he’s ever felt it before, faster even than during volleyball. Your head lulls back and forth against his crotch, cheeks and lips rubbing softly against his clothed cock.
As your face begins to scrunch up, and your body starts to quiver, Daichi can tell that you're close. Ikkei must be able to tell too as he lets out a deep groan, fucking your clit even faster with his tongue.
It’s disgusting the way Daichi’s balls begin to clench, the way his cock throbs at the tiniest stimulation. His head is so dizzy with the thought of his own pleasure that he almost misses yours.
Daichi almost cries as he holds your head, as he watches your body subconsciously start to convulse on the older man's tongue.
Your moans are so sweet, and so strangled as he presses your face roughly against his crotch, furiously pumping as he finds his own high, dirtying his pants with sticky cum.
Ikkei’s cumming too, breath heavy and panting, loud moans, almost to the point of a yell, slipping past his lips and against your flesh.
With one hand gripped firmly on your thigh, and the other wrapped painfully around his cock, Ikkei’s seeing fucking stars.
His once soft cock stands at full attention as he shoots load after load onto the under-seat of the bus. He’s so pent up, so backed up — that all four of the men hear the loud smack of his cum splashing against the hard surface of the seat. It’s like a water gun that just doesn’t stop.
Thrust after thrust, squirt after squirt, Ikkei’s squeezed completely dry, breeder balls hanging heavily between his legs alongside his limp cock.
But never once does Ikkei stop his ministrations, never once does his mouth leave your swollen, overly sensitive little clit.
You’re thrashing now, barely able to breathe through Daichi’s sweats, clearly too stimulated to find this fun anymore. The only thing holding you down is the rough grip from your best friend and his old coach.
Daichi starts to panic, his heart racing as you seemingly gain more and more mobility. He was afraid that the pill wasn’t strong enough, that he didn’t give you a big enough dose. But as your body once again begins to grow limp under his bruising grip, he lets out a deep sigh of relief. He counts himself lucky as your breathing returns to normal, as he slowly runs his hands over your sleeping form.
Keishin’s long since cum, spraying his seed all over the front of his seat. He doesn’t look to care either, just smearing it around in odd patterns with a lazy smirk plastered across his face.
Takeda on the other hand is left twiddling his thumbs, chewing his lip as guilt obviously eats away at the poor student advisor.
It feels like hours for the poor captain, but when Ikkei’s finally empty, he gets up, knees cracking as he leaves your cunt with a final present. A loud pop from his suction, and a pained moan escaping your lips has Daichi subconsciously thrusting his hips. Ikkei just chuckles before slapping you hard across your clit, causing you to cry out and bury your face even further into the mess Daichi’s made in his pants.
As Daichi lifts you back into his arms, placing your gently between his legs, back pressed against his chest, he reaches into his bag to find a cloth. It’s a little awkward, but Daichi manages to clean the cum from his pants, as good as one can hope.
He really should get a clean cloth, it’s only the polite thing to do. But you’ve been bad today, even without knowing it. You came around that old man's tongue, right in front of him, without his permission. That’s the reason why Daichi’s wiping up your sloppy cunt with his dirty cum rag, with the stained, yellowed sock he found at the bottom of the bag.
“Fucking disgusting!” Keishin’s loud scream, the clatter of his phone, and his frantic jump from his seat have some of the other teammates rubbing their eyes and beginning to rouse.
“Don’t you know how to aim!”
“Sorry Keishin,” Ikkei’s tired voice chuckles back a response. “Got too caught up in the moment, nothing a quick little wipe won’t fix.”
Keishin grumbles angrily before picking up his phone and rubbing it, and the globs of cum, onto his grandfather’s shirt. “Shitty old man!”
Hinata's voice is the first one to sound out. “What’s wrong coach?”
“N-nothing—!” He bites back, “just, go back to sleep, you little twerps!”
At the sudden attention, Keishin turns red before promptly planting his ass back in the seat, trying his best to avoid any of the white globs littering the area.
Out of the four men, no one speaks about what happened. Everyone is either trying their best to forget, thinking in awe about what happened, or dreaming about when, and if, it will happen again...
The rest of the bus ride is spent with your sleeping form wrapped tightly in Daichi’s arms, his head resting on top of yours while he’s hard at work planning out more ways to get you to behave.
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Find Your Worth
John Wick x Reader
Summary: You meet John in an unconventional way.
Warnings: 18+ only
Word Count: 5,126 Total word count: 82,896
Read Chapter 1 Read Chapter 2
Read Chapter 3 Read Chapter 4
Read Chapter 5 Read Chapter 6
Read Chapter 7 Read Chapter 8
Read Chapter 9
Read Chapter 10
It’s freezing as you leave math class and you’re trying to hold it together. All you want to do is get home, curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out.
Once you get in the car though, the tears are too hard to hold back and you sob, feeling so stupid. And angry. And embarrassed. Emotions flood your mind and swarming dark thoughts are all consuming until you force yourself to take a breath.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
You tell yourself that during the drive home and text John quickly that class was fine (lie) you’re going to bed and that you’ll see him tomorrow. You can’t even talk to him right now and he’ll know immediately that you’re upset.
It’s times like these when wallowing in your sadness seems familiar yet distant. You haven’t felt this low in a long time. Completely irrational and the loss of control is something you hate.
Your apartment is dark when you get home and you drop your bookbag on the floor, not bothering to turn on any lights and get into bed. Briefly, you think of the comfort of Pooch and John but it makes your stomach turn with shame. You would never want him to see you like this.
The front door locks turn and you hear his voice. “Hello?”
Fuck. You forgot he has a key.
You see his shadow stop in the doorway of your bedroom. “Hey.”
He walks to you in the dark and kneels down on the floor next to you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” You whisper, swallowing back the tears.
“Please talk to me.”
Hesitating, you don’t want to hurt his feelings. “I don’t want to.”
“Why? I’m your best friend, remember?” He says, kissing your forehead.
That makes you smile and you get up to blow your nose. “I know, but sometimes a girl just needs to ugly cry alone. No offense. How d’you even know something was wrong?”
“Because when my girlfriend doesn’t ask me about my day, I know something is wrong.”
You sigh and lay on your back, and John sits on the bed, smoothing the wet hair from your face. Taking a deep breath, you tell him. “Those girls in my math class made fun of me and I lost it.”
You were expecting him to maybe laugh at you, but of course he doesn’t. “Baby, I’m so sorry.”
The anger is starting to settle in now. “I can’t believe I’m old and still have to deal with snotty girls. I feel like I’m in highschool all over again.”
John just nods and lets you talk.
“They walked by me and said ‘nice grandma purse’. Can you believe that?” The tears are overflowing again, you’re so embarrassed. “Everyone heard it, including the teacher. I was in shock and walked away. I didn’t know what to do. I’m so stupid for crying over this.” You laugh at yourself but it comes out bitter. You can’t wait for the day when this stuff won’t affect you anymore.
John still stays quiet, probably because this is the first problem you’ve had that he really can’t fix. He undresses you out of wet clothes and you fall asleep on his chest, emotionally exhausted. The next morning your mood is a lot better, but you still feel really young and dumb for creating such a big fuss over something so trivial.
It turns out that he can fix it. Not only does he buy you a new purse (he got help from a sales lady at the store) but he’s waiting outside of your math class on Friday night, sitting on a bench across from where the door is, looking sexy as ever in his dark jeans and brown leather jacket. When you sit next to him after class lets out, he kisses you until a heated flush starts to creep up your neck. You don’t even have to look if those girls are watching.
You know they are.
Taking John shopping was the best idea you’ve had in a long time. It’s teaching you a lot about him. He’s patient when you want to look at something but walks with long strides, like he’s in a hurry to leave. He holds your hand tightly and guides you away from people, steering you clear of any crowds. His eyes are constantly moving and watching what’s happening, but he’s very attentive.
It’s different from food shopping, a necessity. You’re not even quite sure how you ended up at the mall with him. All you wanted to do was find a birthday present for Carla and John had invited himself along, which was surprising since you thought it would bore him. You don’t want to test your luck, so you quickly pick out something you know Carla will like and get to the register.
John is browsing through the jewelry section when you’re done, and you grab his arm to leave as fast as possible.
“What’s the hurry?”
“No hurry.” You can see diamond rings out of the corner of your eye. Last night John had squeezed your hand when an engagement ring commercial came on and you almost fainted right there on his couch. “Are you hungry? Should we get lunch?”
John gives you an odd look. “We just ate.”
“Oh right.” You’re flustered and you really don’t want him to notice. “Do you need anything while we’re here? New clothes? Shoes? Anything for the house?”
“Actually, I wanted to look at frames.” John smoothes his thumb over the back of your hand and it calms you down.
“Okay, sure.” You look around for the houseware sign and head that direction. “Anything special that you want?”
John stops to look at a simple silver frame, his hair falling in his eyes. “I was thinking about what you told me a while ago. About having a picture of Helen at the house. Do you like this one?”
You’re surprised and flattered that he would take your advice. “What do you think Helen would like?”
“I’m not sure.” John lets your hand go to wrap an arm around your waist and you do the same, careful to avoid touching the gun at his back. “Her favorite flowers were daisies. She wasn’t… ‘fancy’ as you like to put it.”
“Look, it’s not my fault you drive a nice car and wear expensive suits.” You tell him, taking a few steps down the aisle to look at purple frames. You pick up one that you like, but it’s too pricey. “I’ve apologized like a thousand times for calling you fancy when we first met.”
John’s wearing dark blue jeans with a black shirt and a brown leather jacket again. His hair is soft to touch and his beard is untrimmed, some grey coming through. Every time you look up there’s a woman checking him out and you don't really blame them. You would gawk too, and you know how lucky you are to be the one sleeping in his bed tonight.
“Do you think I’m fancy now?” John spreads his arms and does a slow turn.
He’s not usually silly in public, and it makes you laugh. “No, I do not.” You point to his shoes. “There’s mud on your boots, sir. That’s rustic, not fancy.”
“Well, which do you prefer, mud or cufflinks?” He circles his arms around you again and pulls you close.
You pretend to think hard about it. “Hmm, I like the mixture. The mud is very manly but the cufflinks…” You tremble at the thought of him in a suit. “The cufflinks are very sexy. In a scary kind of way.”
“Scary is sexy?’ John presses a small kiss to your lips. It’s like both of you are in your own little world. You admire the fact that he doesn’t really care about showing you affection with other people around. It makes you feel incredibly special.
“Not always, but you make scary sexy.” You tell him softly. “Scary John Wick.”
He clears his throat and lets go of you, turning back to the frames. “Baba Yaga.”
“What was that?”
“They call me Baba Yaga. Other people in my... business. It means the boogeyman.”
You blink slowly, trying to process the information. It’s rare that he’ll tell you anything about work outside of the house. “You’re the boogeyman?” You ask in a whispered hush. Is this for real?
“No, I’m the guy they hire to kill the boogeyman.” He sighs, picking up another frame. “But for some reason I still got stuck with the name.”
“Wow…” You’re impressed and not sure what to say. Your boyfriend is so hot. “I mean, would you be mad if I got a stamp tramp tattoo that said Baba Yaga?” John turns a sweet rose flush and you can’t believe it. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Lie.” You laugh and point to a silver frame with blue flowers on the border. “How about this one? It’s pretty.”
“It is pretty.” John takes it down and reaches for your hand again. “Are you sure it wouldn’t bother you if I put a picture up?”
“I’m sure if it did bother me it would be my problem to deal with and not yours.” You tell him matter-of-factly. You’re feeling very mentally healthy lately and want to show it off. You learned a lot in therapy due to the purse incident. “But, yes, I’m sure it doesn’t bother me at all.”
“Thank you.” John kisses you again. He picks up the purple frame you had been looking at and starts towards the register. You give him a look and he doesn’t meet your eyes.
The next morning you wake up and both frames are in the living room, the one with blue flowers of Helen (who is gorgeous) on the bookshelf and the purple one of you and Pooch in the backyard is front and center on the coffee table.
We need to talk.
The four dreaded words that make you sick. What the hell did you do? Your mind races with what you could’ve fucked up and why John is mad at you. It doesn’t matter though because it sounds like he already decided. He’s breaking up with you.
The rest of the day you work in a haze. You can’t catch your breath and you need to get it together before you have a full-blown panic attack. Your stomach is in knots and you can’t eat much without feeling nauseated. This is exactly what you thought would happen. You knew it would end like this and you’re pissed that you let him get too close. Now you’re completely devastated.
John is smiling when he sees you at the coffee shop and you’re trying to hold back tears.
“Hey, baby.” He leans to kiss you as he sits down but you pull away and sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. You must look haggard, with red eyes and a deep frown. If John notices he says nothing, but worry crosses his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
You can’t even look at him and stay silent, knowing if you try to say anything your voice will crack. You manage a slight nod and he narrows his eyes.
“Are you sure?” He asks, concerned. “Did something happen?”
You realize he’s not going to let up until you say something. “It was a long day. Class and work.”
“Okay.” He reaches for your hand but you pretend not to notice.
“Did you need to talk to me about something?” Your heart stops, ready for the impact.
John’s eyes search yours and it seems as if he remembers. “Oh, right. I wanted to see what we’re doing for Thanksgiving.”
“Well, yeah. It’s coming up. I wanted to make sure we had something to look forward to with it being our first…” He shifts in his seat and crosses his legs, looking so damn sexy in a black turtleneck, suit jacket and slacks. “It’s our first one together and I want it to be special.”
“Wait.” You’re so confused. “That’s what you wanted to talk about? That’s what you text me about this morning when you said we needed to talk and then asked me to get coffee?”
“Yeah. I didn’t want to forget.”
Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh. Don’t get mad. He doesn’t know any better. “John, do you know what texting something like that to a person who has anxiety would do to them?” It’s crippling, is what you really want to tell him.
He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”
“John, ‘we need to talk’ is code for ‘we’re breaking up’.” You lean back even further in your chair, your arms still crossed protectively over your chest. “Like, even you should know that.”
“I…” He looks completely stunned and innocent. “I didn’t think, I’m sorry.”
“Yes, right, exactly. You didn’t think. Look, I’m not mad.” That’s not true. “But can you maybe try to think about stuff like that in the future? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
John looks at the table in silence.
“Maybe I should just go, huh?” You start to get up from the table. You haven’t even touched your coffee. “We’ll talk tomorrow or something, okay?”
His voice is deep and the sound makes you stop. “Please don’t go.”
You sit back down. “John, it’s fine. I just need some space.”
He looks at you. “No. Not right now. Let’s talk about this.”
“I don’t feel like talking right now, John.”
“Well, I do.”
You close your eyes and rub your forehead. “Okay, so talk.”
“Can you look at me?”
Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes and wait.
“First, I don’t think we should leave when we're upset at each other. Ever.” He waits for you to agree, which you do and nod. “Second, I’m going to make more mistakes. I need you to understand that my intention is to never hurt you.”
That makes you unconformable and you have trouble making sense of it in your head. “What if you did want to break up with me? What would you say? Just so I know something bad is coming.”
John starts to protest and you grab his hand. “Please do this for me. I know it seems weird but you don’t understand how this can help me. I’ll get better in time, but right now I just need to know.”
There’s more silence as John thinks about it. “Maybe something like... this isn’t working anymore?”
You breathe out some relief. “Okay, yes. Perfect. Until you say those words, I won’t freak out.”
“Good.” John gives you a small smile. “And the same works both ways, just so you know.”
You give him a doubtful look. “Were you worried that I was going to break up with you today?”
“Well, not until I saw how upset you were. I really am sorry.”
“Me too. I’m sorry you didn’t do anything and I got mad at you anyway.”
John chuckles and shakes his head.
“I think this was our first fight.”
You don’t say it, but you’re surprised it didn’t happen sooner. “And that’s funny because?”
“I just always assumed it would be about my work. Not about something stupid I said.”
You don’t disagree. “There’s still time. You have been spending a lot of time in the basement these days. What’s down there?”
“Nothing interesting.” He replies easily. “But I could show you if you’d like.”
That’s not what you were expecting and you smile, pleased that he’d offer. “Maybe later. I really do have to go. It’s a good thing I have therapy today.”
Beth’s eyes are wide as she listens to you rattle off all of your problems.
“I can’t take a compliment, I feel like he’s always going to break up with me, and I’m stupid enough to think he might actually want to get married or something when clearly I’m too much of a psycho for him to even be with me. This is my first real, healthy relationship and I feel like I’m going to ruin it.”
Beth’s smile is sad, and she listens patiently until you take a breath. You finally do and you already feel drained.
“That’s a lot to dissect, I’m sorry you’re feeling that way.” She says kindly. “Do you think we can talk about it?”
You really don’t want to but you nod anyway.
Beth stops for a minute before she speaks. “Can you close your eyes and take another deep breath?”
A center of calm comes over you.
“If you could give what you’re going through an emotion, what would it be?”
You don’t have to think about it at all. You’ve talked about it with Beth before. “Fear and shame.”
“And where does it live in your body? Where do you feel it the most?”
That makes you pause. “In my chest. I can’t breathe. It feels like panic.”
“Does it have a color?”
“Orange and red. Like fire. It feels like it’s burning.”
“Good, that’s so good. Can you step away from it? Just for a moment? Maybe it can stand behind you or sit beside me.”
You’re focused and trying to process as Beth keeps talking.
“It’s important to remember these parts of us serve a purpose. This fear and shame protected you for a long time. We don’t want to get rid of it, we just want to talk to it.”
You imagine a young, sad girl made of flames sitting on the floor. You tell Beth this.
“Can you remind her that she’s safe and nothing we’re going to do will ever hurt her? Does she have a name? Can you ask her?”
She’s so little. “Little.”
“Little. I love it. That’s a great name.” Beth waits for a minute to continue and it gives you time to think. “Can you ask her a question for me? Can you ask when she first felt shame and fear?”
The memories flood and it hits you like a ton of bricks. You cry, suddenly realizing something important and heartbreaking. “How can I expect a man to love me when my own parents couldn’t?”
Beth nods with sympathy. “Who can give her that love? Who keeps her safe now?”
You open your eyes. “Me. I can do it.”
“That’s exactly right.” Beth tells you. “She doesn’t need to protect you because you’ll protect her. But sometimes she’s loud, right? Sometimes she can be so distracting and that’s when those thoughts can come up. And that’s okay. We want to listen to her and we don’t want to stop her. She’s just a scared little girl, but she has you now.”
“And what do I do when she won’t stop?” You think about John trying to tell you that you’re pretty.
“You acknowledge that she’s there, you identify the feeling, and then keep going.”
That’s easier said than done and Beth can read your expression. “I promise it won’t always be like this. You did such good work today, I’m so proud of you.”
And if you’re honest, you’re pretty proud of yourself too.
“Hey, I’m down here!”
“In the basement!”
You walk over to the door and the long, dark staircase is intimidating. “Can you come up?”
“Just come down.”
Your stomach twists as you start going down the stairs. “What if you kidnap me and make me live in the basement as your personal pleasure slave? Who will do the schedule at work tomorrow? Who will take my math test on Friday? Hi!”
John smiles when he sees you and pushes away from his desk. “Hi. I think you’ve been watching too many of those crime shows.”
“You like murder mystery too.” You point out, falling into his arms. “I see you pretend to read when you’re really watching my show.”
“Hmm.” John kisses your lips. “Maybe you don’t tell anyone that?”
You laugh and look around. “So, this is the famous basement. I feel like this is really important.” There is a huge bookcase that is full with papers and more books, and if you felt like moving you’d go creep on the titles. There’s a big safe which you can only assume has guns in it, and a real rotary phone, which is aging you right now.
It’s dim and a little cold. You don’t mention that John should put a heater down here if he’s going to be working a lot. “So… what’re you working on?” You glance down at a document John had been reading that’s marked Police Confidential.
“Something for Jimmy.” John says slowly, like he’s trying to figure out how much he should tell you. “How was the rest of your day?”
“Well…” You let out a deep breath and meet his eyes. “I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re very handsome and you have the cutest smile I’ve ever seen.”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? I assume therapy went well?”
“Yes it did.” You flutter your eyelashes, ready for him to compliment you back. He doesn’t get it. “Honey?”
You sigh and stand straight, not leaning on him anymore. “Nothing, never mind.”
“Hey.” John grabs your hand and guides you back between his legs. “Tell me what’s going on in there.” He presses his thumb to your temple and moves your hair back.
You sigh again, feigning disappointment. “You mean that you can’t read my mind?”
He searches your eyes and then he lights up. “Oh! So that means… wow okay, hold on, I want to get this right.”
“John, don't be dramatic.” You roll your eyes at him, starting to feel stupid for making him do this.
“I’m assuming this is the one time I get to be superficial?”
You take another deep breath. “Please.”
He brings you closer and your stomach flutters in anticipation. “Your lips turn me on the most. I really could kiss you forever. I couldn’t wait to kiss you. I’d think about it every night when I was falling asleep. Every morning I would think about kissing you. All the time.”
You give him a small smile. “Really?”
Nodding silently, he presses his mouth to your cheek. “And your eyes are what I noticed about you first. I got lost in them. And the looks you would give me sometimes, god… I knew you wanted this just as much as I did. And when you started to let me touch you.” His fingers trace down your arm. “When you finally let me in, it was like a gift. I’ve never wanted something more.”
A million thoughts are going through your mind. There’s a part of you that feels like he has to say all of these nice things to you right now because you’re putting him on the spot. But the way he’s telling you what he thinks… it’s not something he’s just making up for the sake to please you. This is true. This is John’s truth and while it’s hard to hear it, you still listen and receive it.
You look into his eyes. “I think I’m falling for you, Mr. Wick.”
“Yeah?” He smiles and bites his bottom lip. “You gonna let me catch you?”
“Maybe…” It’s a lot to think about. You want to catch yourself. But you want John too. Maybe it’s okay to have both?
“Can I tell you something?” He asks.
John reaches for you and brings the back of your hand to his mouth, kissing you there. “You have my heart.”
You smile because you feel the same, but you don’t tell him that. You’re not sure why. The words are stuck in your throat and you lean your chin on his shoulder. “I’ll be very careful with it, I promise.”
“I hope so.” He smells your hair and gets up, heading towards the stairs.
You point to the file on his desk. “Don’t you have to finish work?”
“It can wait. But… I should tell you something.” Both of you climb the stairs and you greet Pooch, who was waiting by the back door to come in.
“Oh no. Is Jimmy okay?”
“Yeah, he’s fine. Just.” He leans on the counter and looks at you intently. “Don’t be surprised or worried if I show up with a few cuts and bruises next week.”
Your stomach sinks and you run your fingers over his beard. “Really? Ugh that sucks but okay. I won’t worry.”
John blinks at you.
“So I am gonna worry but it’s fine. Please just don’t mess up this face.” You place your hand over his heart. “I kinda like it.”
“Yeah?” He’s got that look in his eyes and his voice goes deep. “What else do you like?”
Your strength. Your arms. Your soul. Your long legs. Your voice. Your spirit. Your hands. Your bravery. Your everything. “Hmm... “ You wink and pinch his ass.
Surprise crosses his face and then heat. “Should we go to bed?”
Laughing, you start to turn out the lights. “And you’ll wear a bulletproof vest, right? When you… work next week?”
He sighs heavily but nods.
“Just humor me, would you?”
“I’ve done this a thousand times--”
You shoot him a death glare.
He quickly changes his tone. “Yes, honey. I will wear a vest.”
Going up to the second floor, you keep asking him questions. “How do you know you won’t run out of bullets? Maybe you shouldn’t do it alone, do you ever have back up? Is it one bad guy or a lot of bad guys?”
“I usually count my ammo accurately, but I have a knife for back up. I always go in alone, I don’t trust anyone else. Usually it’s a lot of medium bad guys with one really bad guy at the end.”
“Jimmy won’t be there to help you?” You ask, dimming the light in the bedroom and watching as John starts to get undressed.
“He has helped me. He got all the information I need.”
You sit on the bed and put your hair up for the night. “You know that’s not what I mean.”
“No, I don’t want him to get hurt.” John sits down at the end of the bed, now in just some blue boxers. His fingers travel up your pant leg and tug on the fabric. You smile playfully and raise your eyebrow.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Just wanting you to be comfortable.”
“Oh, of course.” You unbutton your jeans and he slides them down your legs, tossing them to the floor. He kisses your knees and up your thighs, and you spread your legs so he can lay on top of you. His mouth is slow and when his tongue slides next to yours, it’s like your whole body is waking up.
“Can I have you like this?” He asks and you’re not sure what he means but then he thrusts up against your underwear and fuck, yeah he can. You can’t answer, but he takes your moan in pleasure as all he needs to keep going. He’s pressing in just the right spots and his mouth won’t stop moving across your skin.
“I’m uh… god, this isn’t gonna last long.” You admit softly, letting your legs fall apart even more.
“Good.” He waits for you to open your eyes and smiles. “That means I’m doing something right.”
You start to laugh and can’t remember the last time sex was fun. It was always a drunken haze. John’s weight feels so good on top of you, you feel so protected and safe. His biceps are bulging from holding himself up and all you can do is hang on for the ride. Your skin starts to tingle and this is amazing. John is amazing and you’ve never wanted someone more. He doesn’t stop kissing you but you have to pull back to breathe and another moan escapes as you finally go over the edge in a beautiful, sweet state.
Soon John does the same in his boxers and he leans his forehead on yours. “Are you okay?”
There are no words to describe what you’re feeling. You close your eyes and breathe, your mind totally and blissfully blank. “Mmm.”
“I’ll take that as a yes?” John asks, laughing softly and laying beside you on the bed. He takes his sticky boxers off and wipes himself up before getting under the covers.
“Can we do that again?”
John’s fingertips are tracing patterns all down your back in the most loving way. “Anytime you want.”
You turn to lay on your stomach and rest your head on his shoulder. “What I want… is you. Forever.”
“Forever?” John’s shocked look is enough to make you smile. “That’s a long time.”
“I know, right? Look at what you did, you made me all crazy.”
His eyes are soft. “Now you know how I feel.”
You look at him for a moment before getting up. The moment is starting to feel intense. “So, don’t get mad…”
“Uh oh.” John moves the pillows behind him and gazes at you getting ready for bed. You’re starting to feel more and more comfortable with him watching you undress. There have been more showers together and even a sensual bubble bath not too long ago.
“I think I might have to work on Thanksgiving…” You feel terrible because you know that he wanted to make it special. “I’m really sorry. We close early though, so maybe we can do something when I’m done with work?”
John doesn’t say anything until you finally look at him. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”
“Really? Are you sure you’re not upset?”
“Of course not. I wish you didn’t have to work at all, but I know it’s important to you.”
You sit back down on the bed. “But you’re important to me too.”
He reaches for your knee and slides his thumb up and down your skin. “I know that, baby. I never want you to be nervous to tell me you have to work.”
“What if I have to work on Christmas?”
“I’ll bring a Christmas tree to the gas station.”
“What if I have to work on New Years?”
John gets up and starts to crawl over you. “I’ll kiss you under the neon sign.”
“What if I have to work on your birthday?”
He kisses your lips first and then down your neck. “I guess you’ll have to make it up to me.”
You’re already looking forward to it.
A/N: I’m SO sorry this took so long. Work got unexpectedly busy this month.
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🌸🍡Taehyung with a chubby darling🍡🌸
In which our best boy reacts to having a bashful girlfriend who happens to be volumptous and curvy... and chubby and soft... and he finds it to be SO SEXY she has no ideaaaa! *Y/N insert story!*
Some NSFW but mostly SFW, some angsty self image views, but soft and fluffy praises. Not requested, but I felt like doing it for a little self-gratification since he'd likely be exactly like this... enjoy lovelies~ 😚
All of my work is labelled under the hashtag #fictionalmenmistress, in the tags 🌸🍡🌸
"Hey baby~" Taehyung devilishly smirks, tucking his head into your shoulder.
"AHH!" You shriek, as your boyfriend squeezes you from behind. You pull out your earbuds and pause your music, spinning around to face him before you. "You SCARED me, Taehyung!"
Taehyung softly chuckled, taking you into his arms. "Awwww my baby... I'm sorry." He cooed, not taking your scolding seriously.
You pull your face away from his gentle hands, as he leaned closer to cup your cheeks... but pouts when he's denied.
"What if a sasaeng broke in and grabbed me or something? Its scary enough to be in such a big house all by myself, you know I'm always looking over my shoulder... because I'm scared of ghosts, and stuff going 'bump' in the night."
"But not us going 'bump' in the night, right?" He mischeviously smirks, taking your hand into his, examining your face with half-closed, lulled eyes.
"Taehyungieeee-" you whine, playfully scolding him to pay attention, as a blush surfaces over your whole face. "You know I scare easily."
"I do too, precious." He quietly assures, before groaning. "OKAYYYY, I won't suprise you off guard anymore... no matter how cute or amusing your reaction may be-" he murmured in submission, letting out a long sigh. "Can't I just... hold you now?"
You blush, as he guides your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss against the back of your hand. "I missed you all day... you're usually with me at the studio, or waiting with those yummy muffins after dance practice."
You giggle. "You mean the ones I lie to PD-nim about? Saying they're faux muffins, that are really veggie-based, to enhance protein and carb burning?" You ask, lifting your eyebrows in an amused way.
"Yeah, those ones..." Taehyung sighs with a pout. "All the guys love them... even Mister Bang now."
"He does, doesn't he?" You grimace, remembering the tray you made their boss recently, per-request. "I feel bad about lying, now that he thinks they're okay to eat all the time..."
"NOOO we can't lose our muffins!!" Taehyung playfully whines, clinging onto your arm. "He'll make us diet if he knowssss!"
"It sounds like you miss my muffins more than me." You smirk.
Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, before planting several, slow kisses, up your arm.
"No, there's nothing I wouldn't give to have you by my side. Every day... muffins or no muffins." He giggles, towering over you and gazing into your eyes. "I missed you today."
"I missed you too, Tiger. I had been needing to do some artwork for my webtoon panels." You smile, booping his nose. "I'm trying to build an audience for my own work!"
Taehyung gently groans, pulling you in close by your waist. "You know... I can reccomend it to army on weverse or twitter. You've always been the best story teller I know... so its not like I'd be making up any praises about how amazing it is..."
You run your fingers through his soft hair, as he nuzzles into your neck. You can feel his breath slowing, huffing against your skin to breathe you in. He sends a shiver down your spine, slowly squeezing his hands over your hips, almost like... he's kneeding dough.
"Tae... y-you know I want to make something for myself..." you blush, as his hands sensually explore their way up your back. "I want to have self-made sucsess, doing what I love. It means a lot to me, to say that I did it, without anyone's help."
"Mmmm... my pretty little buisness CEO... I love it when you're ambitious and driven."
You scoff, wriggling in his hold. "Oh please, Tae... I'm not little, c'mon." You blush, this time out of embarrasement.
He can feel your body grow stiffened in his arms.
"Why can't I just praise you?" He whispers, almost saddened that you won't accept the admiration.
He leans back and stares into your eyes, with a small childish pout of dissapointment on his lips. His eyes are big and glossy as they penetrate your soul... like that of a puppy.
Its so wonderfully strange how he can look so intimidating and sexy sometimes... then all of a sudden so soft and baby-ish.
And right when he had you where he wanted you, softening your attention to be on him and distracted... of COURSE he would try to snag a move on you again. There went his large, manly hands... gently gripping and easing into a subtle squeeze on your waist skin... before sliding so slowly and delicately down to your bubbly buttcheeks.
Ah those thick buns and 'thicc' thighs. You love them then you hate them... they jiggle when you move, they always have. And... they have those small dimples in them. You always felt hesitant to let your boyfriend touch the soft spots, worried he may be turned off by the texture of your squishy skin, or how your body isn't tight like his own body. And yet... his gaze and hands always wandered there most... he was so needy for those areas, always trying to weasel his way into exploring them.
You were pretty confident about your big breasts, however. Those didn't make you feel like 'too much' for him. Well... besides the faded stretchmarks from them growing so quickly during middle school. Puberty... it just kinda hit you like a truck. You went from looking like a scrawny child to looking like a shapely woman with a baby doll face.
Parents would get mad at you trick or treating, assuming you were a college student dressing up and requesting candy. And those pervy older men were always such a pesty, creepy problem. All this to say, you became very aware of your body, very fast. Your other classmates were still skinny and shapeless, with more boxy frames than curvy frames, and none of the boys in your class ever seemed to be attracted to you, over the girls like them.
As Taehyung has said once before though... a young boy wants to knaw on bones, while a grown man hungers for the meat.
"Did you just compare me to meat?" You asked him after the fact.
"No! No... that's not what I..." He giggled, shaking his head. "Its just an old saying, that I only really understood when I grew up. Basically, women with shape are the sexiest to men... but teenage boys are attracted to a more child-like, thinner look." he quietly said.
His words echoed through your head, before you attention re-gathered in the moment happening now.
"You're little to me..." he innocently cooed.
Yes, I suppose height-wise you were shorter than your tall boyfriend. But you always wondered if you looked too... big... standing next to him. He was so lean... with practically no fat on his firm, toned body. But you were soft all over. And seeing Taehyung at award shows... surrounded by all of those dainty, tiny girlgroup idols... they looked like they could fit in his hands. But you... you felt so big sometimes, with your foreign genetics.
Taehyung never seemed to care, and he never said anything but praises, but you still wondered in the back of your mind. Did he think you were too much for him?
Taehyung liked a challenge. The more you shyed away, the more he pressed into you, cradling you in his grasp. (He knew the difference between you being shy versus being non-consenting, and NEVER went against your limits or desires. He read people quite well, especially you...)
"Taehyung..." you gulped, feeling your lips trembling to get the words out. "D-do you think I'm... f-fat?" You stammer. The look on his face is almost appalled, angered. Who would make you have such a false impression?
"What?" He repeated. "Fat? Absolutely NOT." He corrected, tilting up his chin confidently.
"B-but... according to Korean standards..." you muttered, beginning to ramble now that pandora's box had been opened. "I'm-"
"Don't say it." He coldly ordered. "Korean beauty standards are unrealistic and drive even the skinniest and prettiest of Korean women to get surgeries that promise an 'ideal image'. But, everyone is perfect exactly as they are. I know you know that, and you know I know that too. So, screw what advertising comanies call the 'ideal image' in my country or yours. Ideal image, my ass."
"Taehyung!" You gasp, suprised that he swore. Your boyfriend wasn't one to swear... it was a rare quality about him.
The way he worded it made you chuckle at a realization.
"Well, your butt is indeed the ideal image..." you murmured, making Taehyung smirk to see you amused and feeling a little better.
"I'm glad you think so, Jagiya~" he cooed, guiding you to the couch without his arms leaving your waist. You trusted him wholly, to guide you backwards, or anywhere.
Taehyung suddenly slipped his arm under one of your knees, making you yelp as he pulled your thigh up against the side of his body. He confidently smiles all the while, his intimate gaze never leaving your eyes. You feel his hand squeeze the thigh, and you could tell he was doing it less for support to lift you onto the couch, and moreso to feel your volumptuous form in his grasp. Ohhh he loved your thighs... your soft, lovely thighs...
He slowly leaned into you, guiding you to recline back onto the expensive, large, comfy couch.
You giggled, as he leaned all of his body onto you, squishing you playfully under him.
"Taehyung!" You laughed. "You're squishing me!"
"I want all of my body to be against your perfect body." He sweetly grinned. "There's not an inch of me that doesn't belong to you."
"Well, you're suprisingly heavy..." you playfully pout, succumbing to the comortable pressure his body was pressing into you. It was arousing, actually...
"And you're suprisingly light." He gently remarked, flipping you both so you were on top of him. You knew he didn't mean that in a bad way.
"Or you're just strong..." you sighed.
"Maybe I'm strong... but your body is perfect to me. The way you FEEL..." he began, greedily squeezing his palms over the softest parts of your thighs. "The way you LOOK..." he hungrily growled, almost an octive deeper... sending a shiver through your core as he drank in the image before him. His eyes widened as they scanned over your bouncing large breasts in his view, as he watched you sit up, straddling him as he lied there. The smile on his face was pleasured, pleased. He was a happy man to have you on top of him, no matter how light or heavy you were... he WANTED you to press your lovely form into him. "The way you walk... so bouncy and sexy... I feel jealous about how the hyungs check you out when your back is turned." His voice turned devilishly lower... deeper... as if wrathful for revenge. "Its a crime that any man gets to see your godess-like form standing before them, besided me."
"Th-they do that?" You blush, not realizing the rest of the boys saw you in that way.
"Mhmm... all of them do. Its soooo not fairrr..." he grumbled under his breath, almost purring as he took in the sight of your squishy tummy against his chest, and your juicy thighs around him. "Kitten~" he desperately sighed. "I get so HARD, just IMAGINING how you look IN clothes that cover you completely... let alone the f-fantasies of you naked~" he humms, with a hitch in his breathy whispers.
"Hh-huhh..." he sighs, his breath hitching again, as his eyes lazily roll into the back of his head, before re-drifting back down onto you. Just the remembrance gets him THAT hot and bothered??
"For realsies?" You coyly, bashfully ask.
"Of course, kitten. Would I lie to you?" He asks, raising his eyebrows with a confident smirk.
"Maybe... if it would make me feel better..." you dissapointedly assume.
He sits up, supporting himself on one of his arms, making his chest press against your breasts through your shirt. You were face to face now... just staring into one another's eyes.
"NEVER." He assured. "I would never lie to you. There's no reason for me to lie to make you feel better, Jagi. You're literally a goddess."
You feel your cheeks flume red. "G-goddess?"
"Yes! Renaissance masters didn't sculpt ideal greek godess statues with soft curves for nothing..." he grumbled, blushing at the sight of your innocent face.
"Ohh Taehyungie..." you dreamily sighed, leaning fully against his chest as he slowly lowered you both down, to lie against one another horizontally.
"The way our bodies are so different... the way yours is so soft comared to how hard and stiff mine is... its perfect." He gently cooed. "I'm surpised that you're so comfy in my arms."
"Oh Tae, you're my safe place. I love how you feel... I love how you hold me." You intimately whispered.
He stared deeply into your eyes, as a gentle smile rested on his admiring, sculpted, handsome face.
"Didn't you find me during our Love Yourself era?" He asked, cocking a brow.
"Mhmm." You responded, rapidly nodding your head up and down in such a soft, innocent way.
Taehyung giggled, endeared at your cuteness. "Okay then. I want you to love yourself... because I love you. All of you."
He gently lifted your loose shirt up enough to grab onto your waist, running his hands slowly down the sides of you, to squeeze your soft tummy in his hands, his eyes practically glistening with desire.
"Ever inch of you... every hair, every patch of skin, every tint and shade, every texture. You belong to me, and you're the sexiest being in existance. And all of me belongs to you, only you, forever. Alright?" He romantically assured, gazing hopelessly into your eyes.
The soft smile that pulled into his lips, let you know the fullest sincerity of his tone. "Okay." You smile, leaning into his lips to kiss him.
Slowly, passionately you kissed, deepening the intimate act with every second. Soon enough, your hands were running all over one another, tilting your heads to reach your tongues into the deepest parts of your mouth. Body to body... you both were perfect, together and apart, exactly as you are... he loved you.
🌸 the end 🌸 (for more, visit my hashtag: #fictionalmenmistress in the tags 🥰 requests and headcannons are also open!)
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Pairing: Musa x reader
Request: I’d love a Musa x fem reader. Maybe something angsty with fluff. Anonymous
A/N In my defense, the anon who requested this did say angst with fluff and not fluff with angst 😂
Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @grey-girl @intoanothermind
“I got you breakfast, sleepyhead. Wake up.” You set the tray down on the table next to her bed before sitting down on the side of the bed. She groans making you chuckle. Mornings have never been her thing and frankly, not yours either. But you wanted to do something special for your anniversary and since it’s limited what you can do while at Alfea, you figured breakfast in bed would be a cute thing to do. You give her a minute to open her eyes before handing her a plate.
“This is lovely. Thank you,” she says with a raspy voice still trying to wake up. Terra has made herself scarce to give you guys a private moment which is very hard to come by when you live in a suite with four other girls.
“Happy one-years,” you smile leaning in to kiss her. You notice her confusion but she’s quick to cover it up.
“You too,” she says sitting up properly. You decide to ignore it and assume it’s just from waking up and being a little disorientated. You both munch away on the pancakes and you feed her a strawberry which does not go at all like in the movies where it’s seductive and sexy. Instead you both crack up having a laughing fit for five minutes.
“Thank you for this, baby. Really.” Musa gives you a quick peck and head for the showers. She stops at the door looking back at you.
“Aren’t you coming?” she asks as if it’s the most obvious thing. You follow her enjoying much more than breakfast. Afterwards, you both head for classes but you meet up once you’re both free to talk a walk around the grounds. It’s the perfect day filled with all the couple stuff you always thought you hated. Meeting Musa had made you into quite the simp to be honest but you found that you didn’t mind it all that much. It was your first real relationship and the logic part of your brain knew the statistics but your heart was too filled with love for Musa. You couldn’t ever imagine not feeling this way about her. Which is also why it hurt so much when Musa started pulling away. You thought you’d done something to hurt her but whenever you asked she said she was fine.
“Have you noticed anything off about Musa lately?” you ask Terra one day. You’ve been sitting on Musa’s bed for the last hour waiting for her making casual conversation with Terra but you can’t keep it to yourself anymore. You have to get someone else’s opinion about it before you lose your mind.
“What are you hiding?” you ask knowing her well enough to know that she only rearranges flowers when she’s nervous or has a secret to keep. You never thought Musa would talk to Terra before you but apparently a lot of things has changed these past few weeks. At your anniversary everything seemed fine but now you weren’t really sure of anything anymore.
“Me? I’m not hiding anything,” Terra nervously laughs confirming your theory.
“Terra, please. I just need to know that she’s okay.” You wish you could be having this conversation with Musa herself but she’s been AWOL all day.
“Please just talk to her,” Terra says and it’s clear she wants to stay well out of this but you’re not letting her go that easy.
“I’ve barely seen her for the past week. How am I supposed to talk to someone who’s avoiding me?”
“I’m not avoiding you.” You spin around to find Musa in the doorway watching you and Terra. She drops her bag by the bed but doesn’t walk over to you.
“Can you give us a minute?” she asks and Terra makes a quick exit probably thankful she’s not going to be a part of what happens next. You keep quiet waiting for Musa to speak while Musa refuses to even look at you. How did you become strangers when you could’ve sworn you’ve never known anyone as intimately as you have Musa?
“I’ve just needed some space.” A brick falls onto your chest and crushes your heart. You’ve forgotten how to breathe. Is this what dying feels like? Even now you catch yourself trying to dim your feelings so as not to overload Musa even though she clearly hasn’t considered your feelings these past few weeks.
“What do you mean space?” you whisper scared your voice might break.
“Just that I’ve needed some time to be me,” she says but that’s not all. When Musa lies, she always taps her left hand with her right index finger. You first noticed it when she would lie to Terra and say she loved all the plants.
“Tell me the truth,” you plead, “did I do something to push you away?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then how is it?! Because all I know is that I’ve been trying to pull you closer and you keep pushing me away.” You’ve been so busy worrying that something was wrong that you haven’t had time get upset. But now that you’re finally talking, you’re not about to be dismissed with a stupid excuse for what’s been going on.
“You’re suffocating me!” Her outburst shocks even her. You were wrong when you assumed the pain before was how it felt like to die. This is what is feels like. How do people survive heartbreaks? Is there a guide somewhere that can help you restart your heart?
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” Musa says wishing she could take it all back but that’s the thing about words. They hit like knives and once they’re lodged in a person’s heart, you can’t remove them. You close your eyes feeling memory after memory hit you. Musa and you giggling as you watch Stella change into yet another of her “famous outfits”. Late night phone calls over the summer when you went to stay with your parents. That time you stole a bottle of wine and stayed out all night watching the sunrise.
“I don’t get it. When did my love for you start to suffocate you?” Don’t cry, don’t cry, you repeat over and over not wanting to give into your sobs just yet.
“It happened slowly. You’ve always been my safe place when everyone’s feelings became too much but then your feelings started to overcloud my own. And I just had to get away from it.”
“So I pushed you away by loving you too much, is that it?” You look over at Musa hurt to see that she looks just fine. When did she stop loving you?
“It just got too loud. I felt like I couldn’t breathe around you. And slowly my own feelings for you started fading.” She wants to make you understand it but you’re not ready to accept the fact that one day Musa woke up and decided she didn’t love you anymore.
“Well, you won’t have to worry about that anymore.” You gather your things and walk right past her. You want to look back and see if she’s as upset as you are, but you already know the answer to that. When the sobs come this time, you don’t have any energy left to fight it.
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🛍Victoria Secret shopping with their gf? smt
Ohhh I’m so glad you asked this cause I was dying to do this. Sooooo thank uuuu. Also I think I’m just not going to put gifs of them anymore? Idk let me know.
He doesn’t mind tagging along.
Like he usually sleeps through everything but not when this is going on.
He’s coming with u.
I think he likes black, red, and even the color beige on you.
Shu likes silk, Lacey patterns or minimal diamonds or sparkles on your underwear.
He likes if the underwear style is cheeky too.
Or better yet a thong.
He won’t tease you to much at store but like he’s helping you chose.
I think he’d walk around with you and just pick up things and picture you in them.
if he sees you looking at a thong or skimpy things prepare yourself.
“What dirty girl you are, planing to wear that for me.” He’d smirk.
“I don’t buy my underwear for you, I buy it cause I like it.”
When the girls at the store ask for your size to help you.
he cuts in to correct you on your size.
which leads you both to argue and the helper just laughs.
“I’m a c/s.”
“No you’re c/s, have you forgotten?”
“Reiji I’m pretty sure I know my size.”
but you of course you are shy about it and let alone annoyed.
I know most people would say he didn’t want to come but I think he’s the one that dragged you here.
This is because he doesn’t think you have refined taste to the degree he does. So he’s taking you so he can pick it out.
It’s an excuse to see you in the dressing room tho.😏
He really likes corsets but since we are no longer in those times he likes the bra bustiers.
Omg I have so many of those and I love them as sets.😂😂
He loves all the lacey kind and even elegant body suits.
He likes if the straps are elegant with detail to.
Reiji also likes if their are silky ribbons/bows or shiny trims to enhance the style of the underwear.
He’s favorite colors on you are black and dark purple. He also likes white.
Despite what he likes on you, he would also buy you cotton underwear bc it’s actually better for your body. Even if there not the cutest.
Follows you into the dressing room but luckily you stop him.
“Uh, ladies only Laito?”
Likes black as well as some bright colors and red. I think he likes evergreen color as well.
The material is either lace or mesh. Or barely covering honestly.😂😂
He actually knows your cup size and isn’t afraid to help you.
Tho he will pick out super sexy kinds of sets and body suits.
“How about this one, I know it doesn’t cover much but it looks sexy.”
So you might have to stop him since you don’t feel comfortable.
He also backs you up in the dark corners to try and kiss you.
Tho you have to remind him this is not the place.
He picks out perfume too.
I think he also likes to see hot pink and black furry things on you as well.
He likes bras that show your nipples as well😏
All the cutest colors ever and just sweet looking babydoll dresses.
He loves lace, silk, and cotton.
He likes the pinks and purples as well as white the most and some baby blues to.
He likes the frills and ruffles and some sparkling trims.
Kanato prefers you where soft bras and not the cup kind.
He will also like if you buy some socks or garters to match.
If you ask for his suggestion he likes the ones with bows.
Most of the time he isn’t doing much but waiting for you to finish.
He thinks it’s kind of a drag.😂
But maybe if you try it on it’ll get him excited.
Just wants to know your cup size honestly.
Seriously is just an ass about it.
He likes red, pink, and black. I see him liking neons too.
The material can be any honestly.
I think he likes the sporty sets
And push up bras.
He also likes the small pj shorts on you to.
Likes to pick up random underwear and show it to you.
He will put the bra or underwear on himself just cause he’s so stupid.
“Look I’m Y/N.”
Of course it makes you both laugh tho.
He waits for you to try on things, he won’t go inside unless you want.
Might blush if you show him.
He pays for you and holds your bags.
Cause he’d never let you pay
He’d feel so bad if you did.
A blushing mess.
At least if you two are in the beginning of your relationship.
I think he likes the pinks and lilacs on you the most.
They have this signature lilac color and I just love it honestly.
anyways, I think he’d try to help you only if you asked.
you honestly have to drag him cause he didn’t want to go.
tho if you two have been together for a while, he actually likes going with you.
I could honestly see him grinning at the thong in his hand.
He’d whisper in your ear for only you to hear what he had to say.
“You should wear just these tonight.”
Wants to know your size.
He likes to pick out cheeky underwear for you.
I totally see it.
He likes to see different blues and probably pink as well as like nude or cream color.
He likes silk the most.
Loves when the undergarments don’t cover much.
He likes some floral patterns or just plain colors.
Also likes the sporty stuff too.
If you don’t know your size he just a bra up to your boobs to see if it fits.
Can be really sweet or just a dick about it.
He doesn’t care about what you like he’s getting you what he likes.
And that’s that.
He loves blue, black or nothing on you.
Preferably dark blue.
Loves lace omg do not get me started.
Like that is his fav.
Loves small ribbon bows or minimal sparkles on your underwear.
Ruki likes the fancy bras and bustiers on you but he likes fabric bras on you as well.
He likes when the underwear is cheeky.
Likes the body suits that are lacey.
If see’s you picking some panties that he likes on you he will whisper in your ear only telling you they will come off later.
He likes that you invited him.
Was willing to help and doesn’t care about the color.
Or material he just cares about the style that’s it.
So he loves thongs or the bikini cut underwear the most.
You can’t change my mind about it.
He likes bras that flatter your body so something that shapes it well.
He mostly cares that your comfy.
If you don’t know your size don’t worry he knows.
He’s got it all covered.
Yuma will make you blush though.
“I like these.” He’d say playing with the bands that crosses in the back of the skimpy underwear he was holding.
“I don’t.” You say a little uncomfortable.
He’s dragging you everywhere, making you try on so many different types.
Is pretty helpful.
Loves neons or bright colors
His fav on you is pink and he likes bows and patterns.
He likes flower prints and plain things too.
Knows your size and just never forgets it.
If you moved up in size he’d congratulate you.
Making you very embarrassed.
“Aww babe you got bigger.”
He’s just so weird like that.
He tried to get cute underwear over sexy underwear for you.
It’s just what he likes I guess.
He also thinks the babydoll dresses look cute.
He says he’ll wait outside but since you ask him he goes.
Azusa follows you around the store and just has no idea what you need him for.
He likes to see soft colors like white, beige or turquoise on you the most.
But he’s not opposed to other colors.
He doesn’t care about material he just wants you to feel comfortable.
And he thinks you look great in anything so don’t worry.
If you ever forget your size he tries to remember.
He likes to buy you perfumes there.
If you ask him which one he likes he gets confused since he doesn’t mind honestly.
He just wants you to be happy.
So sweet someone protec him.
He doesn’t mind helping you.
He’ll do anything for you and if this what you need he’ll do it.
likes white and red on you the most.
Prefers lace but is okay if you don’t wear it.
He doesn’t care too much about your underwear he just wants you to match.
And feel comfortable.
He likes elegant underwear the most.
And likes the perfume they sell.
Also loves ruffles or frills or bows on the undergarments.
Pretty much leaves everything to you and just pays.
Doesn’t mind giving his opinion if you ask.
Tells you look great in anything.
You didn’t tell him to come with you he just came.
He wanted to help but he also wanted to know your size to see if he was right.
Loves black and red on you and pink.
Shin likes lace as well as mesh.
He likes the sporty underwear too.
And push ups cause he never thinks you have enough of anything.
Of course he’s joking tho.
He will walk into the changing room and you will have to push him out of their.
Cause he sucks like that.
“You don’t want me to help you put it on?”
“We are at a store, Shin.”
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