#a peek inside the curse that is my brain:

[hihomeghere]

Fakin' it | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 3k Summary : After a botched robbery, Arthur and you take refuge in a hotel, hiding from the O'Driscolls outside your door. When they do decide to search for you two, how will you throw them off your track? Warnings/Tags : Enemies to lovers <3, unprotected piv sex, guns, cursing, reader has female gentailia, fingering, one bed, fake marriage

Of course the job that went bad had to be with Arthur. Why Dutch had put you two together was beyond you. Everyone around the gang knew that it was volatile anytime you two were together. But, you were cunning, quick minded in a pinch. Arthur was strong, easily able to take down a man twice his size, not that someone of that caliber came along often. To put it simply, you were the brains, he was the brawn. As much as you hated to admit, you made a good team on jobs. This time however, a simple robbery had turned into dozens of O’driscolls around every corner. You two had barely made it into a hotel unscathed. 

“One room.” Arthur said, setting down some coins on the table top as you watched the door. Your hand resting against your gun in your dress pocket.

“Name?” The man asked with a smile.

“Callahan.” Arthur said looking back at you. “Mr. and Mrs. Callahan.” He said, turning back to the clerk. You heard footsteps outside of the hotel, you turned quickly grabbing Arthur’s arm.

“Sweetheart.” You cooed, internally cringing as you called him by that name. You looked at him with wide eyes, “Come on.” You said with a nervous smile.

“We’re newlyweds, a bit excited if you can’t tell.” He chuckled, turning back to the clerk, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Of course.” The clerk said with a knowing smile, you wanted to barf as Arthur squeezed your waist. “Up the stairs to the left.” He said, handing Arthur a key.

“Much appreciated.” Arthur said his hand on the small of your back as you two climbed the stairs. As soon as you turned the corner you nearly ran to the door, Arthur slid the key in the lock and turned it, ushering you inside. As soon as the door was closed behind you, he was locking it just as fast. 

Once you got in the room you moved away from Arthur’s side, letting out a sigh as you looked around the room. One bed, of course, you two were acting as a couple.

“Mr. and Mrs. Callahan, really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow as you turned to look at Arthur. 

“Less eyes on us if we’re a couple, not cause I wanna play house with you.” He said with a grunt, barely raising his head to look at you. He walked over to the bed, moving to take his boots off.

“Less eyes.” You scoffed, looking around the room, walking over to the window. You pulled the blinds back, peeking out to the streets below. 

“The hell you think you're doing?” Arthur hissed, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Looking.” You said glaring up at him. “Is that a crime?”

“Do you want to give away our position?” He growled, his eyes dark.

“I think it’s pretty damn clear we’re in one of these shops, now we have to wait it out until they’re gone.” You said pulling away your arm from his grasp. He let out a deep breath, his jaw clenched as he looked away from you.

“How many are out there?” He asked, holding his hat as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, maybe a dozen?” You said crossing your arms.

“Dutch said to keep a low profile,” He muttered to himself, “We can’t go out there guns blazing.” He said, setting his hat down on the bedside table. 

“That’s obvious.” You said, shaking your head. He scoffed, looking up at you.

“Are you trying to piss me off, or is that just one of your special talents?” Arthur said glaring at you.

“Oh I have lots of talents.” You say, stepping closer a scowl on your face. 

“If only one of them was keeping your mouth shut.” He growled. 

“God, what is your problem?” You huff looking away from him.

“My problem?” He scoffs getting up from the bed. “You’re my problem." He said, his chest almost touching yours as you looked up at him.

“Feelings mutual.” You huff, glaring up at him. He clenched his jaw, shaking his head as you walked away from him. 

“We’re gonna have to wait it out.” He said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The hell are we gonna do?” You asked throwing your hands up. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’m gonna take advantage of this bed.” He said laying back down on the bed, placing his hat over his face. You bit your cheek looking at him as he crossed his legs. He did have a point, the bed looked a whole lot softer than your cot back at camp. You mulled it over for a second before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You unlaced your boots, laying back on the bed. Your eyes quickly drew heavy, the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off. 

The sun was setting when you woke up, the light slowly disappearing behind the horizon. The room was quiet except for Arthur’s breathing. You sat up in bed, looking over at him. His hat had fallen off his face when he rolled over sometime during his sleep. He looked so peaceful when he slept, it was like seeing a completely different side of him. It’s at this moment you really appreciate how beautiful Arthur truly is. The bridge of his nose is high, broken one too many times. His plump lips parted slightly, like two petals. His sandy brown hair falling over his forehead. 

You wanted to reach out and move it out of his face, but thought better of it. You didn’t want to disturb him and it wasn’t often that you saw him without a furrowed brow. 

Just as you were laying back down you heard heavy footsteps up the stairs. By your guess, four, maybe five men. You sit up quietly, feeling your heart pound against your rib cage. Arthur sprang up in bed as soon as they kicked open the first door. They must have turned right when they went up the stairs. The yell of shock sounded farther down the hall. He turned to you, his eyes wide. He reached for his gun belt on the floor but you stopped him. Your brain was running through all the situations. Four or five men, sure you and Arthur could take them, but that’s not exactly a low profile. 

Against your better judgment you picked the solution with the least amount of bloodshed. You swung your leg over Arthur’s waist.

“The hell are you doing-“ Arthur hissed before you covered his mouth with your hand. Your fingers started working on the buttons of your blouse as you rolled your hips forward. Arthur looked up at you with a wide eyed expression, his bright eyes frantically moving between his gun belt on the floor and the door. His stubble lightly scratched your palm as you held your hand over his mouth, his plump lips almost kissing your palm.

You forced a high pitched moan as you moved your hips faster on the bed, the bedframe hitting the wall. Creating the illusion you two were having sex.

The gears slowly started to turn in Arthur’s mind, his hands gripping your hips as he propelled you faster. The bedframe was now rocking against the wall, as you pulled your arms out of your blouse, leaving your chest bare. Your nipples hardened from the cold air as goosebumps sprung up on your skin. Arthur’s eyes were closed as he turned his head, forcing a low groan. Although you knew his groans were fake, the way his body reacted to your touch was more than real. You kept up with your moans, trying to put on a good enough show.

The door was soon forced open, as two O’Driscolls entered  the room with their guns raised. You scream, Arthur is quick to pull your chest down to his. You were pressed tight against him, his warm hands keeping you flush against him, all of him. His work shirt rubs against your nipples in such a fucking delicious way, it doesn’t help tbe adrenaline coursing through your veins. You can’t see anything, your head buried into Arthur’s neck, his stubble now rubbing against your cheek.

“Get the hell out of here!” Arthur yells, hidden by your upper half.

One of them clears their throat before exiting the room, closing the door behind them. You hold your breath waiting for their footsteps to retreat down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief as they meet back up with the other men, walking down the stairs.

Hesitantly Arthur moves his hands off your back, you sit up covering your breasts with your arms. Arthur, however, was staring up towards the ceiling. His jaw clenched as he avoided looking at you.

You moved off of his waist, grabbing your blouse before slipping your arms through the sleeves. You buttoned it up, swallowing thickly as Arthur cleared his throat. 

“Now uh-“ Arthur said letting out a sigh, “I want you to know that I didn’t see nothin’.” The bed whines slightly as he stands up. 

“I know you felt something.” You said, shaking your head as you blush from head to toe. 

“Now-“ Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair as you turned to face him, his eyes flicking around the room before settling at your feet as he held up his hand. “We can just pretend this never happened, it was a matter of life and death.”

“I understand that.” You looked at him, fully looked at him. His gaze was low, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cheeks flushed. God, he looks wrecked.

Your eyes trailed over his body as he stood there, his hand on his hip as he popped his knee out. Your eyes moved down further, almost popping out of your head as you see how painfully hard he is pressed against his pants. 

“Are you-“ The words fall out of your mouth before you can think to stop them.

“Jesus.” Arthur sighed looking down, his hand rubbing his eyebrows.

“You are.” A nervous chuckle leaves your mouth as your eyes trailed up and down his body. You felt heat begin to spread between your thighs as he met your eyes. Your heart is still pounding against your rib cage from the encounter with the O’Driscolls. 

“I’m-“ He started throwing his hands up, “I’m sorry, alright but you can’t expect me- I’m only a man.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Nothing to be ashamed-“ He cut you off, shaking his head, “There is plenty to be ashamed of, I shouldn’t be getting so… so worked up over you.” He said motioning to you. You couldn’t help that you were also getting worked up, you subtly rubbed your thighs together. Trying to get any friction where you needed it most. Heat bloomed in your stomach as the tension in the room only got worse. He furrowed his brows, studying you.

“Wait,” He chuckled, shaking his head, “You feel it too.” He said, crossing his arms.

You scoffed, looking off to the side. “You wish.” You said, hating the slight tremor in your voice. Arthur strode across the room, stopping in front of you. He reached towards you, tilting your chin so you would have to look at him. 

“Tell me you don’t want this.” He said softly, his other arm encircling your waist pulling you flush against him. You stayed silent, looking up into his blue eyes. Slowly a smirk worked its way onto his face, “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled, cupping your cheek. He leaned forward brushing his nose against yours. Giving you the option to pull away if you wanted, his eyes softening as he looked into yours. You took the plunge, capturing his lips against your own as you threaded your fingers through his hair.

A groan rumbled through his chest as his hand tightened around your waist. You felt dizzy as his lips moved against yours, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth allowing his access as he pressed into you deeper. He rubbed himself against you, his hips pressed against your lower belly. 

You pulled away, breathing hard as you looked up at him. His face was flushed, his mouth parted slightly as his chest rose and fell rapidly. You unbuttoned your blouse for the second time, just as feverishly as the first time, but now for a completely different reason. Arthur followed your lead, pushing his own suspenders down, his skillful fingers unbuttoning his own shirt. His eyes returned to your body as he ripped his shirt off of his shoulders, settling onto your breasts. He stared down at you, an almost predatory expression on his face. He closed the distance between you, his hand wrapping around your waist as the other kneaded your breast. You let out a soft gasp, which quickly turned to a moan as he ran his thumb over your perk nipple. 

“Arthur.” He stared down at you, his eyes darkening as he watched you shiver against him. He flipped you around, his hand pressing you down onto the bed. His other hand flipped your skirts up, before pulling down your underclothes. He let out a soft groan as his eyes connected with your almost dripping pussy.

“This all for me?” He cooed, swiping his finger through your folds. You gasped, nodding as your hands gripped the quilt. 

“Yes.” You breathed, “Yes all for you.”

“Good girl.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he sunk a finger into your heat. You gasped as he slowly started pumping his finger inside of you. He leaned over you, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “Yeah you like that don’t you?” He said nibbling on your earlobe. Your breath hitched in your throat as he added another finger, scissoring them inside your walls.

“Fuck Arthur.” You melwed, pressing your forehead against the slightly scratchy quilt underneath you. “I need you.” You huffed, your walls clenching around his fingers.

“I’m gettin’ there.” He chuckled, pulling his finger out of you, you sighed at the loss. You could hear the rustling of clothing behind you, the distinctive metal on metal as you pulled off his belt. His warm calloused hands ran up your backside, gently spreading you before the head of his cock met your entrance. 

Jesus Christ he was big. 

He spit into his palm, pulling away as he spread his spit over the head of his cock. 

“What the hell is taking so long?” You asked impatiently, turning your head to look at him. His eyes met yours, a wicked grin on his face as he forcefully shoved his cock through your folds. It was like all the air had been knocked out of your lungs as you were propelled forward onto the bed. His hands pulled your hips back and speared you onto his dick. 

“Arthur!” You yelped, your fingers gripping the quilt as he thrust his pelvis flush to yours. 

“Christ woman.” He groaned, laying his forehead against your bare back. You moan as he pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you. “You sound even better when you ain’t faking it.” You can feel the chuckle rumble through his chest more than you can hear it as he speaks. 

“Arthur, Jesus." You pant, almost drooling over the way his cock hits that spot inside you over and over again. 

“Mmm.” He moans, tight lipped as he tilts his head back. You push back against him, meeting every one of his thrusts “Yeah, atta girl.” His praise only spurred you on, your thighs shaking as you pushed your ass against his pelvis. “You close?” He whispered, his warm hand moving down your thigh between your legs. His thumb circling your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You were grateful your upper half was supported by the plush bed as your legs gave out under you. A high pitched moan worked its way out of your chest as you all but collapsed on the bed. Your walls fluttered around him, milking his cock. 

“Shit.” He panted his breath fanning on your back as his forearms caged you in, his hips stuttering as he released his seed inside you. He groaned, resting his forehead against your back as he collapsed on you. His sweaty chest sticking against your back. He pulled out of you, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He whispered. 

“S’okay.” You said breathing hard, his cum seeping down your thighs. He kissed down your spine, his hand lovingly squeezing your hips. 

He grabbed a towel from the dresser, cleaning your thighs off. 

“Who would have thought you’d known about aftercare.” You chuckle softly, your heart rate slowly coming back to normal.

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me sweetheart.” He huffs, a small smirk on his face as he tucked himself back into his pants. He reached down, pulling your bloomers back up over your hips. 

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled, grabbing your blouse as he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

“Yeah, Mrs. Callahan.” He smirked walking towards you, buttoning his shirt as he stood in front of you. You rolled your eyes, buttoning your blouse. He wrapped his hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He said, his hand trailing down your jaw. 

“Alright, fine. Mr. Callahan.” You huffed, a blush covering your cheeks as you rested your hands against his broad chest. 

“Next time,” He tightened his grip on your hips, his lips against your ear, “You’re riding me.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #smut #arthur morgan smut #dutch van der linde #rdr2 smut #john marston #javier escuella #hosea matthews #red dead redemption #abigail roberts #abigail marston #jack marston #tilly jackson #mary beth gaskill #molly o’shea #miss grimshaw #enemies to lovers #lenny summers #charles smith #sean macguire #hihomeghere

[ioniiaa]

My Darling, My Honey

Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Quick Notes:

This is when both reader/you and Alastor are both alive. (... we'll probably end up in hell later on btw so stay tuned...)

Reader is an artist/painter.

Part 5:

It was almost pure bliss.

Except many months later, you found out a secret of his one day.

He was an exceptional chef, you were always in awe of how he cooked such magnificent dishes every day.

But one day, you peeked out into the forest through the window in the living room and saw Alastor standing alone, covered in blood. Your first instinct was to run outside, so you did just that.

You rush to his side and ask if he's okay, and what had happened to make him covered in such copious amounts of blood.

He blinks a few times before oddly turning his head to you, breaking out of his stupor, "Oh my dearest (y/n), do not fret so. For I am only acquiring our dinner for tonight!"

You look down at what he is holding in his hands. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth. A leg. A human leg. Your eyes then trail to the ground where you see a bloody human body, mangled beyond recognition. "This is.. dinner?"

A large grin appears on Alastor's face, "Quite right! This one should be enough to last us through the week!"

He looks at your face with an almost vicious look to his eyes, awaiting your response anxiously, not that he would let that show, anyways.

All you can manage is "Oh. Okay." Before you walk back inside the house without another word.

It's no exaggeration to say that your brain chemistry was permanently altered from that moment onward.

The situation felt so strange and bizarre, you didn't know what to think. Part of you knew that was he's been doing is extremely horrible and corrupt. It almost made you empty the contents of your stomach, it didn't feel real.

It didn't feel real, but suddenly some of Alastor's behaviors started to make sense. His picky taste for food...He never let you help with cooking, you had chalked it up to him being more of a perfectionist, but now... you know its more than that. He was hiding the fact that he was butchering and preparing human flesh, right in your very home, all this time.

But.. for some reason... all you could think about was how dedicated he was to providing a comfortable life for you, because he truly loved you. Everything he did every day showed you that you mattered and that you deserved only the best.

"But I still love him with all my heart... maybe I'm just as messed up..." Was a sentence your mind kept repeating to itself for quite some time.

Your appetite shrinks after the initial shock for a few days, but you were never one to skip meals or have your appetite be gone completely, even if you were sick. In this instance, you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse in this case.

The meals he made for you had never made you sick in the past, so your body was already used to eating his cooking, and he made such amazing food, carefully crafted with such love and attention to detail, you couldn't help but keep eating his delicious cooking, no matter how bizarre and immoral it was.

"I think I really am just as messed up..." The thought crossed your mind again, but thoughts were interrupted by a rare occurrence, a kiss on the cheek from Alastor as he set your plate down in front of you.

The fact that you never stopped eating his cooking and always thanked him for his food and hard work, even after knowing where the main ingredient comes from, solidified the fact that you were the one. You loved him even after seeing him all bloody, holding a dismembered corpse, and telling you it was dinner. It was this pivotal moment that he knew, that you were the one to be his beloved forever.

In the coming weeks, things went back to "normal". You were settling into the new normal, as Alastor didn't hide the meal prep like he used to, and seeing him bloody and bringing in mysterious cuts of meat into the house became a normal sight to you.

One night when you were going to see Mimzy, Alastor informed you that he was unable to escort you that night. You were a little disappointed, but he assured you it was okay for you to go, it was just that he had plans that he wouldn't divulge any information on, no matter how much you pressed him.

Little did you know, but that night, Alastor was out on the town shopping for the perfect ring to propose to you with.

-> Part 6

#hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel #fanfic #alastor #hasbin hotel #alastor x y/n #alastor x female reader #alastor x you #alastor hazbin #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #fem reader #female reader #reader insert #x reader #x y/n #x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hasbin

[steddielations]

Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in. 

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans. 

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?” 

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.” 

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.” 

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes. 

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.” 

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.” 

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth. 

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this. 

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle. 

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off. 

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.” 

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty. 

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

#behave boys taste testing is a Very Important job #steddie #steddie ficlet #rueswriting #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fluff

[hairyjocktf]

First Workout of the Year

Aidan was just starting his second semester at university, and after a long winter break of being a bum he was ready to get back to his goal of finally getting in some semblance of shape.Despite his efforts during the fall he was still practically a twig, something the studs on grindr were keen to let him know. This was finally going to be when he packed on some size, he told himself as he headed into the campus gym. It was packed with people his size, trying for those new year's resolutions, with the regular jocks standing out amongst the crowd. He squeezed in between the hoards of people, getting in a basic circuit on the resistance machines. After about 40 measly minutes he was sweaty, out of breath, and decided to call it a day for his first workout back.

He headed to the locker room to rinse off before getting on his way. Letting the warm water pour over him for a few minutes, he let his thoughts drift to the hunks he saw in the free weight area. Damn they looked good, he thought, I hope I can pull off a tank top like that eventually. Eventually he came back to reality, turned off the water and reached for his towel. Or at least, where his towel was supposed to be. Shit! I must’ve forgotten it and not even noticed, he lamented. Soaking wet and low on options, he peeked out from the stall to see if anyone was around. Shockingly, the place was empty. On a nearby bench he spotted a leftover towel. Not that he wanted to use a dirty towel, but there weren’t many alternatives. Embarrassed about his actions, he darted over and snagged the towel before hiding back in the shower. 

Eager to put this whole situation behind him, he used the towel to dry off his body, followed by his face. But while wiping his face he noticed a stench that had been missed earlier. The towel absolutely reeked of sweat and body odor. Upon opening his eyes at the eye watering smell he saw an even more disgusting problem: the towel was coated in thick dark hairs! How did I not see that? He cursed at himself. He spit one out of his mouth. Disgusted, he threw the towel down to the floor and quickly changed back into his clothes before storming out of the gym.

On his walk back to his dorm he was pissed, Who would leave a filthy towel like that? He angrily thought, and why did I not pay closer attention? The afternoon was warm, and he felt himself sweating. Guess I’ll have to shower again, he thought to himself. As he kept walking he felt increasingly sore in his muscles, maybe that workout was better than he had thought. He caught himself scratching at his pit, which was odd behavior for him, but he brushed it off as just being sweaty and sore. He brought his finger back up to his nose and sniffed them. Phew I stink! He said to himself. A moment later that action registered in his brain, Why the hell did I just scratch and sniff my pit? He began to worry. His shirt began to feel a little tighter than normal, restricting his arm movements as he walked. His shoes also felt smaller than usual. He continued making his way home, nearly there, as worry truly set in.

By the time he reached his dorm his back was drenched with sweat, he was feeling sore and itchy and all around uncomfortable. As he reached his hand to the door to put his key in his eyes widened. His hand was much larger than normal, as was his forearm, and they were both coated in thick dark hairs. As he stared, the hairs seemed to grow denser as they spread up his forearm to his bicep, which was also inflating to ridiculous size. Aidan quickly threw open the door and ran inside straight to his bathroom mirror. 

What he saw made his jaw drop. His frame had grown substantially since leaving the gym just a while before, pushing against his now tight clothing. He could see his biceps and shoulders bulging under the fabric, stretching his t-shirt to its limit. As he stared agape in the mirror his pecs also began to grow, inflating his shirt even more. He groaned in discomfort as everything felt so sore as his muscles packed on years worth of mass in seconds. With a final grunt, his shirt split open, unable to contain his hulking body in a size small any longer.

His shirt in tatters, Aidan’s bulked up body was now clearly visible. Muscle mass was not the only thing growing on him. As he stared at his mountainous pecs, tiny dark spots began to appear across them. Dark pinpricks spread across his chest before erupting into dark brown hairs. Thin at first, they quickly darkened and thickened into respectable chest fur as his skin disappeared beneath the growing coat. It spread out from the center, swirling across his pecs and thickening around his nipples as thicker, longer hairs sprouted around them. The hairs crawled up to his collarbone, making sure that plenty of dark hairs would be visible above any shirt. He moaned from the feeling of the hair spreading, filling his new body with ecstasy.

Aidan felt his previously flat stomach contort, with pronounced abs growing in and giving him that sought after V shape he admired in other jocks. That definition was quickly buried under his spreading body hair, however, as it raced down from his chest. Thick, dark hairs grew down in waves across his stomach, burying his abs under a coat of dense fur just like his chest. But that was just the beginning of it. He felt a strong itch below the waist of his paints as pressure increased substantially there. Pulling out his waistband he watched in horror as thick hairs erupted across his groin, engulfing the wisps that had been there before. The hairs were thick, dark, and grew curlier by the second as they spread. They grew up above his waistband, connecting to the forest that had covered his stomach, and then down to his thighs. His balls were not spared that fate either, with his sack becoming overrun with fur. With a densely hairy crotch that only continued to grow, Aidan groaned and put his hands up to his face, revealing a flash of dark under his arm. 

He lifted his arm just in time to see thick, wiry hairs erupting from his armpit. They grew longer and thicker as they spread out, and he could see the sweat getting trapped in the bushes already. He scratched at the growing tuft of hair with his other hand, feeling the hairs grow and curl as they filled his armpit to the brim, sticking out even when he put his arm down. Those hairy pits already smelled to match the jock he was becoming, it was eye watering. The hairs even filled out to the point of connecting with his chest hair, giving his upper body a full coat. Or so he thought, at least, before the hairs began crawling up his boulder shoulders, the fur wrapping all the way to his back. The itchiness growing on his other side told him all he needed to know. Thick hairs were worming their way out across his shoulder blades, dusting his entire back with dark fur. The hairs climbed down, thickening as they approached his ass, which itself had grown quite a bit without him noticing. The itchy feeling reached a zenith as dark brown hairs began pushing out of his plump ass, giving him a nice thick fur coat even there. He reached around to scratch at his hole, feeling intense pleasure as thick curly hairs burst out around it, filling his crack with dark hairs.

It was at this point, half lost in pleasure, that Aidan noticed his pants becoming incredibly tight. To avoid what happened with his shirt he quickly stripped them off, watching his quads grow to three times the size they had been, and the rest of his legs packing on impressive size. The thick hair in his groin and on his ass spread downwards, coating his thighs in an absolute rug of curly hairs. They of course did not stop there, shooting up across his calves and stretching down towards his feet, which began to grow quickly. After kicking off his shoes he watched as his feet grew longer, toes getting thicker as the same thick dark hairs popped up across his toes and the top of his foot. He was now stuck with huge hairy jock feet! Aidan looked back up at the mirror, seeing a hulking and incredibly hairy jocked up body that looked nothing like he had just an hour before. The only thing out of place was his babyface, though something told him that was soon to change.

As if waiting for that moment, the hairs on his face began to sprout. Follicles pushed out hair after hair as his chin darkened. His hands scratched at the growing stubble as it covered his face, wiry hairs exploding across his upper lip. The thick hairs continued growing and spreading, giving him full coverage, reaching high up on his cheeks and connecting down to his chest hair. The fur crawled out of him, leaving barely any of his skin visible by the end. His body continued to explode with muscle, his frame getting heavier and bulkier. The hair hid most of the definition but anyone would still be able to tell how absolutely built he was now. The changes had taken a lot out of him as well, he was drenched in sweat and out of breath looking at his new form in the mirror. He absolutely reeked as well, all the new hair catching sweat and musk. 

Somehow though, he didn’t seem to mind that much. He had always been a real hairy and stinky guy, ever since puberty hit him hard in middle school. Kids had made fun of him then but now they admired and lusted after him. He was a real stud, and he was late for his second workout of the day.

This was my first ever tf story, let me know if you like it! Hopefully they'll only get better from here. If you have ideas for future stories also let me know, I'd love to try out more.

#hairy #hairy tf #jock tf #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy back #male tf #hair growth #my writing

[tojifile]

@Satosugu . . . ( ´ ꒳ ` )

Tags: idols!satosugu, f!reader, very very cliché wattpad 2018 plot, fan!reader, satosugu x reader, fluff, no curse au, cursing, use of petnames, mentions of stalking, clingy Satoru, kind of ooc (?), reader is 18 n the guys are 19, reader is shorter than both of them, NOT A SATOSUGU SHIP POST

A/N: Thinking about Geto Suguru & Gojo Satoru and those kpop fics I saw everywhere on Wattpad during 2018. I made it less (?) cringe. This is just for fun anyways, I still eat up the most cliché shit. I just love love love them. Pt.2 is out now frfr!!

Kaisen - JJK Entertainment ☆

- Gojo Satoru

- Geto Suguru

idol!satoru who you literally bump into on a cold winter’s night in Japan. He has this cheeky grin on his face as he saw your shocked expression. “Hey princess!” He teasingly says. You thought that he looked kind of familiar but you weren’t really paying much attention, you were too caught up trying to escape the guy who has been following you.

idol!suguru who almost immediately noticed the man all dressed in black who seemed to be keeping a close eye on you while also maintaining a distance. Suguru observed the man as you and Satoru conversed.

idol!satoru who’s fond of the way you look up at him before apologizing, as if your brain buffered for a second. “Like what you see princess?” Satoru teased. You snap back into reality and turn red, you then started to apologize profusely. “I’m– I’m sorry for staring and bumping into you, I really didn’t mean it!!”

idol!suguru who then whispers something to Satoru. He decided to take matters into their own hands. It was obvious that the man was someone you were trying to get away from and the man was obviously intimidated by Suguru and Satoru.

Before you knew it Satoru went to your side and interwined his fingers with yours. “Just follow our lead princess. We won’t hurt ‘ya, I promise.” He then began to lead you somewhere while Suguru walked right behind you.

You then start to notice some people taking pictures of you and the two random men you just met a minute ago. Suguru then went to your side to make sure you weren’t captured by any more pictures. Although, the constant camera clicks did make you curious. You looked up to catch a glimpse of Suguru and Satoru’s face. It was at that moment you realized that these two weren’t just random men—they were world-famous idols.

idol!satoru who caught you trying to sneak a peek at the both of them. Your blush didn’t go unnoticed as you realized who they were. He chuckles but chose to let it slide. Trust me, he really, really wanted to tease you, but he figured that Suguru and him should take you somewhere safe first.

idols!satosugu who brought you to their hotel room. Suguru tries to make you feel comfortable. He makes small talk as you sat beside him on the couch, asking you about your name, likes and dislikes, what you did today. You were still in shock, you couldn’t believe you were in the hotel room of your favorite idols. Although you weren’t as much of a fan as everyone else, you couldn’t deny how handsome they were.

Suguru also made sure to tell you that the man who was following you couldn’t follow you inside the hotel. Their security here was great and he wanted to reassure you that you were in good hands.

idol!satoru who wants to keep you with him forever. He’s now saying things like, “Oh princess! I wish I could keep you in my pocket and bring you back to Korea!” His words make you blush hard. But Satoru’s words made Suguru sigh, he didn’t want you to think they were like your stalker.

Turns out they planned a semi-secret trip to their hometown. They didn’t tell the world they were going there, but they weren’t exactly hiding it. You were grateful yet utterly confused. Why would they help you out of nowhere?

idol!suguru who insists on walking you home but then they get mass texts from their manager in JJK Entertainment;

manager

Didn’t I tell the both of you to not get into trouble??

Check your socials, you and Satoru were found with some girl.

I swear to god Suguru, this is a PR disaster. We’ll pick you up as soon as possible. For now, don’t go out of your hotel room.

19:27

Suguru sighed as he saw the text messages, he knew they fucked up. “Okay, never mind, we can’t walk you home. Our manager got intel that the press is looking for us in the lobby—the three of us. They saw you in the pictures and now they want to know who you are.” Suguru got on one knee in front of you so that he would be at eye-level. He took both your hands in his and said, “I’m sorry.”

idol!satoru who immediately realizes that means you have to stay with them. “So that means you have to stay with us princess!” He happily states, “But– but maybe the pictures aren’t clear enough! I could sneak past the press and–” you were cut off by your own self as your gaze fell on Suguru, still on his knee holding both your hands.

idol!suguru who sweet-talks you into staying with them. “We’d feel much better if we know you’re safe here with us. Some fans can get crazy y’know.” Suguru spoke as he looked into your eyes. He really wanted to give off that yearning vibe. Which again begs the question, why were they so keen on helping you?

“Okay.. I’ll stay..” you hesitantly replied.

idol!satoru who then steals you from Suguru by hugging you tightly. “Great choice princess!” He was so happy, it was contagious. The both of them didn’t even mention being idols they just talked about their manager as if they had normal jobs. That was until Satoru decided to be cocky about it, “Y’know princess, most fans would’ve said yes immediately! Are you perhaps not a fan? Or even—a hater?!” He said dramatically.

idol!suguru who has a scowl on his face because Satoru stole you and because of Satoru’s question. “That’s none of our business Satoru.” He scolded his friend. Satoru only laughed in return.

idol!satoru who speaks in the most dramatic way possible. “But we’re world-famous idols Suguru! Surely this cute little princess is one of our fans, right princess?”

Gojo Satoru—the Gojo Satoru looked at you confidently as he waited for your answer. It made you a bit nervous, “I– I am a fan! I just didn’t want to be a bother..” you replied. “Plus you can never be too sure about people, I can’t just trust you because you’re idols!” You then sighed at the irony of that statement, “but I did because there was no other choice.”

idols!satosugu who listened to you speak attentively. They were very touchy and loved being close to you. It’s like they lacked physical affection. Suguru in front of you and Satoru beside you, such a cute duo.

idol!satoru who is the whiniest man ever. “So you think we’re bad people? I thought you were better than that princess..” he pouted. “No I don’t! I’m just saying you can’t trust too easily!” Satoru only laughed as you tried to defend yourself. He hummed, sarcastically agreeing to your words as you finished.

“Okay princess, whatever you say.” He mocked as he pulled you onto his lap, embracing you by the waist.

idol!suguru who tries to keep his best friend tamed. “You’re too touchy with her Satoru.” To which Satoru replies with a pout. “But she likes it!” He whines, “don’t you princess?” You turn red at his words. Suguru only sighs, he holds your hand, hoping you aren’t done with them. He just wants to help you.

idol!satoru who knows no personal space and props his chin on your shoulder as he continued to hug your waist from behind.

idol!suguru who rested his head on your lap, tired. At this point he didn’t bother telling Satoru off. He was just reduced to a big sleepy man.

idols!satosugu who were now all over you, both derived of physical affection. You couldn’t escape the idols now.

Comment 🪩 to be on my taglist !

#jjk #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo #geto #suguru geto #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #geto suguru #idol au #no curse au #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu #kaisen #jjk x reader #kpop #kpop idol #satosugu #tojifile

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 2

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 2010

---

He shakes his head, like clearing the fog from his brain, and steps forward. “I’m Jake,” he says, reaching his hand out toward you. 

It’s done in such a casually confident manner that it dares you to take a step back, out of his reach and far from his influence. You take his hand anyway. 

His palm against yours creates a slight buzzing sensation at your fingertips making you pull your hand away and tighten it into a fist before tucking it behind your back. “That makes more sense than the pretty brunette.”

“Oh, don’t flatter her. She’s not that great,” he says. There’s a light chuckle as he slips his hands into his front pockets. On any other man, you’d acknowledge the hint of nerves accompanying the action, but with this man in particular you brush it off. There is no way this man has ever been nervous a day in his life. “I’m surprised you’re up. Are you okay with your room?”

You glance down at the suitcase not far from where you stand. “I didn’t look for it. Seemed like snooping.”

“Oh, shit. That’s my fault.” Hand flying out of his pocket, he runs it down his face again. He blows out a breath that feels like some form of self-scolding for letting himself neglect you, then bends down to wrap his fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “You can come with me.”

The apartment, while nice, isn’t overly large. The door to what you learn is your room can be seen from your first few steps through the front entryway, but still, you’re glad you didn’t peek on your own. You could’ve found yourself face-to-face with his private space and unable to avoid developing opinions of him based on the first-glance contents of his room. 

With a turn and a push, Jake opens your door and stands back against one side of the frame so you can enter. Side-stepping past him, though, is a bit of a squeeze and you can’t help the way your breasts brush across his chest. You don’t miss his flinch and the sharp intake of air through his nose.

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

Whether or not he heard you goes unknown as he sets your suitcase down once you’re inside the room and begins his mini tour. “Um, bed,” comes out a little gritty. He points to the largest piece of furniture in the room like you’re a two-year-old learning the names of basic household items. With a cough to clear his throat, he continues. “That door over there is the closet,” he points some more. “And that one’s the bathroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be alright for you.”

There’s a pang in your stomach from his last two words. For you. An unnecessary addition with so much power. Power you refuse to let yourself dwell on. 

“It’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Right, well I’ll, uh–” Those eyes do their scanning of you again. Lips, breasts, hips. Blink and you would’ve missed it. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” he says. "It's nice to meet you."

You would say the same, but he’s gone before you get the chance. Shutting the door behind him, you toss your suitcase onto the bed and begin to unpack. 

—

The funny thing about these towns—while each one is different from another in appearance and people, they always reveal themselves to share a core component. Your willingness to stay put, and for how long, lies with this component. It is a matter of how intense this component—this judgment—is, and whether or not it infects enough around you to transform everything into a reminder of why you do not belong. While many things have the potential to prove you right or wrong as far as the degree to which you might be judged, what remains a constant disappointment is your attempts to obtain a job. 

It doesn’t matter where you look. You get the same once-over, the same raised brow, the same unspoken questions lingering in the air. Are you lost? Did you stumble through the wrong door?

In one day you’ve been turned down by three jobs with ‘help wanted’ signs stuck on the inside of their building’s front window. What’s worse is that, in following typical company policy, they don’t shoo you away at the door. They take your resume, they sit you down, ask you a host of questions, and eventually declare you’re not right for the position. 

A restaurant manager did not see you fit for a waitress. Neither did a cafe owner find you capable as a barista. The most painful, however, was also the riskiest. The head of the sales floor at the lingerie boutique who seemed to think women of a certain size aren’t in need of lacy fabrics that accentuate their best bits and pieces because surely they don’t have sex.

That was the one that did you in for the day and now has you moseying back to the apartment. 

You walk through the door and shed yourself of jacket, purse, and shoes, likely looking as exhausted as your new roommate did when you first laid eyes on him the night before. You knew you recognized something in the weariness of his eyes. While unexpected, last night Jake Seresin was tired because someone—or many someones—had worn him out. 

“Hi.”

You jolt upright, head instinctually turning toward the voice. You’re not used to sharing your space, and obviously so since Jake immediately raises his hands in silent apology for startling you.

“Hi,” you reply, the word riding on the sigh that passes through your lips. 

With as much as you can muster for him, you offer a smile before aiming for your bedroom. But you don’t get far. 

“What have you been up to all day?” he asks, halting you. 

He’s not going to let you go, you realize, not without giving him something in return. Though, seeing as he’s your new roommate who took you in on short notice and charges you pennies to stay, you figure you can oblige. 

He’s sitting at the island in the kitchen, now with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. His thumb taps away at the screen, but when you near him he quickly sets it down to offer you his full attention. It’s then that you notice his missing shirt. Your mind must have filled in that blank. You’d assumed some sort of tank top was hidden by the angle at which he sat when you entered the apartment; that the fabric’s color was not so different from the tone of his skin. Looking at him in his bareness now, you can’t ignore how ridiculous that thought was.

You also can’t ignore him; sitting there without shame, practically taunting you to run your eyes over every ridge and valley of his sculpted form. And it is sculpted. Artwork. 

But you don’t allow yourself the luxury. Instead, you answer, “Looking for a job.”

Jake sits a little straighter. “I can probably help with that,” he says. “I’ve got a friend who owns a bar down the street, and–”

“No!” you snap. The hope that it wasn’t as harsh as it sounded is snuffed out by the slight widening of his eyes. “Thank you,” is softer, “but no bars.”

He watches you a moment longer before he nods and repeats, “No bars. Got it.” Another moment of silence fills the room until he breaks it. “I’ll ask around.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.” You wave away the thought and shake your head, aiming to get off the topic. Solidifying that is your immediate shift onto him. He seems like a guy who probably enjoys talking about himself, anyway. “So, you don’t fly on the weekend?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“Have people stopped traveling on Saturdays?”

Blond brows pinch as he twists the beer bottle in absent-minded circles with his fingertips. “What?”

Crossing your arms, you step further into the kitchen until your stomach is resting against the edge of the island. “Your friend said you’re a pilot. I just figured you’d be working a lot.”

Jake’s face doesn’t change; still the epitome of confusion, and you don’t know how to fill the painfully long beats while he examines you. Why you let him examine you must be a slip of the conscious mind, but you keep still. Then his face settles. He takes a sip of his beer, sets it down, and, instead of simply looking at you, stares hard into your eyes. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Wh–” you pause, readjusting your stance. “What makes you think that?”

“Anyone who says ‘pilot’ in this town—or frankly, even close by—assumes Navy, not airline,” he says. If he’s insulted, it doesn’t show. “I’m far from some Delta guy.”

Internally you curse. That err in knowledge peels back a layer of your paint, inviting curiosity and questions. And by the gleam in Jake’s eye, you’re sure you’re going to get plenty. “You’re in the Navy.”

“I am,” he confirms with a single nod. “And most people here have ties to it in some way. But not you, it seems.”

You fidget in the gap between his statements. 

“So, where exactly did you come from,” he continues, a wry smile stretching his lips, “And how did you end up here of all places?”

When you meet his stare, you don’t care for the sparkle peeking through. “I drove.”

His head throws back in laughter. “That’s all I get?”

“That’s all you need,” you stress. It’s his own fault for not asking those questions following your email answering his ad. He had an opportunity. He didn’t take it. That’s not your problem. And the longer you stand here, clearly providing him with entertainment, you're once again struck with the desperation to get his attention off of you. 

Without much to grasp, you go for the obvious. You allow your eyes to trail downwards and morph your features into a forced grimace. “Don’t you wear clothes?”

“Oh.” Looking down at himself, a gulp bulges his throat. “My bad. It’s been a while since I’ve had to wear a shirt around the place.” Is that disappointment in his tone? Maybe. Who in the world wouldn’t be insulted at the request to put on more clothes instead of removing an additional article? You certainly have been, so who is to say Jake Seresin—who undoubtedly has never faced such a request—wouldn’t feel the same?

To your surprise, he hops up immediately and rounds the island for his room; a move you would appreciate much more if it didn’t reveal the gray sweatpants settled low on his hips. There’s a defined V and a line of hair that disappears below the waistband. You hate that V. You hate that dusting of hair, blonder against his tan skin. Men with Vs and an irritatingly perfect amount of hair there are trouble. Each and every one of them. 

“I’ll go get that shirt. Don’t go anywhere.”

For whatever reason—one you’re unwilling to dissect—you do as he asks. But then a light flashes in your peripheral vision. The screen of his phone in response to a new message. 

You don’t want to look, not really, but you can’t help yourself. Years of people whispering behind your back, sneaking glances, chuckling, has planted the evergrowing seed of paranoia. Inching closer to the phone, you tap the rectangular block on his screen that reads Nat. Though the phone is locked, the notification expands to reveal the full message. 

See, Paranoid is an interesting label. It accuses you of misunderstanding, of being too suspicious, too anxious, or even crazy; and you won’t deny you’ve probably been wrong before, assuming people are talking about you who haven’t spared you a thought. But sometimes, that label is unfair. Sometimes—often, in fact—you are right. 

And when you read ‘Not what you expected, is she?’ followed by a tiny smirking face, you know this is one of those times.

---

A/N: I hope you liked it! If there are typos blame that on my anxiety. I've got a life-defining procedure tomorrow so wish me luck

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

[ozarkthedog]

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

summary: you try to be a good gf and make Joel breakfast but he has other plans.

warnings: -> 18+ only | MDNI <- no outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader. smut. Joel is a menace. rough sex. dirty talk. tommy makes an appearance. my stupid sense of humor. no beta.

word count: 1.0k

author’s note: i had to get this thot out of my brain. enjoy! ty for the support @thornsnvultures & @ghotifishreads 💙

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

“You look good wearin’ my shirt.” Joel mumbles, stalking up behind you.

You peek over your shoulder at him and smile. He looks tired but happy as you turn back to the stove. You snuck out of bed not too long ago, intent on making him breakfast as a way to say thank you for last night.

He invades your space as you coat the skillet with butter. His bare chest smothers your back as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and slides his arms around your waist with a sigh. “Sleep alright?”

It was the first time staying the night at his place and you oddly felt at home. “Yeah, like a rock. Especially after that marathon sex session.” 

Joel chuckles into your neck recalling all the sinful positions and moans he pulled from you. “Thank god for Sarah spending the night at her friend’s.”

The two of you sway softly as you crack four eggs into the hot skillet. His hands slowly wander your body while you work. Those rough, worn hands slide over your belly, graze your thinly covered breasts, and mold around your hips. 

“Love feeling your curves under my shirt.” Joel confesses kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear. He slowly grinds his semi hard cock against your ass, the material of his boxers making it easy to glide over your skin. 

You gasp and clutch the countertop for support when a confident hand slides down the front of your panties. You shiver under his touch as he casually rubs your tiny nub. “Joel, I’ve got to cook breakfast.” You whine through the sweet pressure.

“Don’t worry about me.” He eases his throbbing, solid length from his boxers before giving it a tug. “I’ll entertain myself.” He says coyly, before tearing your panties from your hips. You yelp from the roughness and almost drop the spatula.  

He curses under his breath as he thumbs your already dripping folds. “My sweet girl. Your pussy gives you away.” He ruts against the soft curve of your ass staining your skin with shiny trails of precum. “You like me usin’ you like this.” 

The statement makes your belly flip. Your brain goes numb. The room feels unbearably hot and the searing skillet you’re standing over doesn’t help. All you can do is whine and arch your back in response. 

“S’ok, baby. I got you.” His fingers drag along your slick seam with teasing caresses. “Gonna take everythin’ I give ya. Ain’t tha’ right?” 

You dumbly nod, too strung out to speak besides moaning like a wanton whore as his fingers dip in and out of your tight hole. He works his fingers into you, scissoring and rubbing along your soaked channel, forcing illicit mewls from your throat.

“Best flip those eggs.”

The dark timbre of his voice jolts you from the euphoric haze. You scramble with the spatula and haphazardly flip the eggs just as he notches the bulbous head of his cock against your sopping entrance. Your cunt weeps, dripping sticky arousal down his length as he tips his hips and slowly sheaths his thick cock inside your warmth.

You both moan in unison from the intense pressure as he forms your velvet walls around him. He lets you breathe for a brief moment. Kisses pepper your temple and ease the stress from your brow while you adjust to his massive size. Your core flutters and blossoms as the pain ceases and the searing pleasure begins to rise.

Joel roughly grabs a fistful of his shirt and jerks you back until you’re plastered against him. His left arm splays across your clavicle and secures a large hand over your shoulder, locking you like a vice to his burly frame. 

His breath fans your cheek, teeth nipping lightly at your skin. “Keep an eye on my breakfast, girl. I don’t want no burnt eggs.”

He bucks his hips and drives into your core so hard you’d have slammed into the counter if he wasn’t holding you. Your mouth hangs open in shock, spilling sinful moans from your lips with every powerful thrust. His cock barely leaves your warmth for a second as he savagely saws in and out of your heat. 

Frantic thrust leaves you gasping and writhing. Your nails dig into his forearms as he holds you steady leaving no room for escape. “Take it all, girl. Be good. Know you can.” He grunts and cruelly grinds his pelvis into your ass. 

Your walls flutter and convulse making his chest rumble. His hips drive faster, relentlessly fucking you, desperate to feel you come around his cock. “Your drippin’ down my balls.” He grits against your cheek. “Maybe I’ll use this sweet cunt anytime I feel the urge instead of my hand.”

Skillful fingers slink to the apex of your thighs and draw tight circles around your slippery clit forcing your orgasm to crest. “Thatta’ girl. Make a fuckin’ mess.” Your cunt quivers as you come with a raspy shout and douse his cock with your cream. His sack tightens making him bury his soaked length as deep as he can go with a ragged grunt. He pumps you so full of his seed you think you can taste it at the back of your throat.

Suddenly, the garage door sounds. “Oh, shit. It’s Tommy.” Joel warns before withdrawing from your core with a hiss and carefully stuffing his cock back into the confines of his boxers.

“Fuck, where’re my panties!?” You squeak, while turning the burner off and tugging at Joel’s shirt, praying your ass won’t be on full display.

“Play it cool.” Joel rasps as he locks an arm around your shoulder and drags you over to the island hoping it’ll hide the evidence of what just transpired. Joel’s cum drips down your thighs making you squeeze your legs together with a cringe.

This isn’t going to go well. 

Tommy opens the side door and brightens the room with his million-watt smile. “Hey, sorry about the pop in but I was in the area and I’m fuckin’ starvin’.” 

He tosses his keys on the table and makes a beeline for the stove. “M’m something smells good. Eggs and…” He noses the air pensively while helping himself to Joel’s overdone eggs, flipping them onto a plate. 

You burrow your head into Joel’s chest when the younger man freezes after spying your torn panties on the floor and finally registers the smell. 

He stares bemusedly at the older man while pointing to his plate. “Are you serious? Right in front of my eggs?”

💌 my inbox is always open

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

[megamindsecretlair]

Fall Into You

Pairing: Kevin Atwater x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, all consensual. Slight power imbalance, Kevin is a landlord and reader is the tenant. No sexual favors being exchanged.

Summary: Hoping to beat the storm, Kevin comes over to fix your sink. However, the power goes out and you get to know your new landlord a little better.

Word Count: 7,402k

A/N: Hello, my loves. This has been on my brain for a while and a special gift for @babybratzmaraj. I guess I should stop apologizing for writing so much, the story gon' need what it needs. ONE SHOT. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz

The doorbell tore you from your thoughts as you looked out of your window. The TV stated that the storm was only getting started. Only getting started…

You inwardly groaned and fixed your glasses, heading to your door and checking the peephole. Kevin Atwater stood on the other side and your heart fluttered just seeing him. You stepped back, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“Kevin! Thank you! You didn’t have to come today. This storm looks nasty,” you said. 

Kevin smiled and shook his head. He wore a black puffer jacket zipped up and carried a small toolbox. “No problem, I promise. Chicago’s seen worse and you need a working sink,” he said. 

You stepped back and let him inside, hoping that your glasses didn’t fog up from the sheer sexiness that entered your apartment. 

“Huh, you decorated since last time,” he said.

You looked around at the cozy space. The walls were standard, plain cream, but you made sure to dress it up with paintings in soothing blue and ocean pieces that reminded you of your hometown. The boxes had been cleared away since the last time Kevin was over to fix your bedroom door.

“Yeah, had to make it look like I actually live here,” you said with a giggle. 

Kevin laughed with you. He placed the toolbox on your small, round kitchen table and took off his jacket. You busied yourself with tidying up your clean apartment. You picked up the bowl of fruit just to…put it right back down on the sink. 

You had to look anywhere but at the deep burgundy button up he wore. Or the peek of a black tank underneath. His bulging arms or the way his hips sloped just so. You had to look away so that he wouldn’t see the neon “horny” sign on your forehead.

You could not crush on your landlord. It was several kinds of wrong. But how could you not? He was so tall, charming, funny, and sweet. His juicy pink lips have been the star of multiple fantasies lately. 

“...help you with that,” Kevin was saying.

“Huh? Sorry…” you said and gave him a sheepish smile. Your mind tended to go on little vacations. Especially where Kevin Atwater was concerned. 

He smiled at you and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I said what did you do with the boxes? I told you I could help you with that,” he said.

You waved him off and dropped down into a nearby kitchen chair. “You already do so much for me, Kevin. I really should be paying you,” you said. 

“Rent’s just fine with me. I told you to call me for whatever you need,” he said. His eyes lingered on you a second too long before he licked his lips and started rummaging around in his toolbox. 

You were incapable of thinking anything but dirty thoughts when he spoke. Whether he meant it that way or not. He brought the toolbox closer to your sink. He flipped the faucet and the pipes groaned. A loud, groaning sound as if there were ghosts dancing in the pipes. 

He flipped it back off and gave you a look. “You ain’t tell me it was making that kind of a noise,” he said.

“I told you it was a noise,” you said. You shrugged your shoulders and he chuckled, licking his lips as he went back to looking at the sink. 

“I was thinking it was a small noise. Like something just needed some WD-40,” he said. “That…sound bad, right?” He asked.

“You’re asking me?” You shook your head dramatically. “If I knew anything about fixing sinks, I wouldn’t have asked you here during a storm.” You still felt guilty about that. You told Kevin that you could wait until it passed, that running water wasn’t that important in the grand scheme of things. You had bottles of water and the bathroom sink worked just fine to wash your hands. 

As your mind wandered, you weren’t paying attention to Kevin getting closer. You didn’t notice as he stood in front of you and dropped down to a squat to look you in the eye. You shrieked when you finally saw him as he seemed to have teleported from the sink. 

“There is no way in hell I’ma let my favorite tenant live here with no running water. So no more need to apologize, right?” 

His raspy voice made you lose all coherent thought. You twiddled your fingers since he was too close and you gave him a light, nervous giggle. “Stop. I’m not your favorite tenant. I’ve seen the way Mrs. Brennan looks at you. Like you hang the moon,” you said.

Kevin chuckled and stood up, going back to the sink with the toolbox in his hand. He hummed. “I helped her out with something and now she keeps trying to set me up with her granddaughter,” he said. 

“Oh? Does Kevin Atwater have trouble meeting women?” You teased. 

He laughed as he opened the cabinet underneath. You hadn’t had a chance to get to the store for proper cleaning supplies. So far, all you had was bleach and Pinesol, a small bucket, and a pack of sponges. It was on your long, long, long list of things you needed in order to feel settled in this place. 

The wind roared outside and it shook the windows. It howled. The heater was on but did little to combat the chill in the air. You would never feel settled here. The winters were a different breed. Designed to freeze you to the toes and wrack your body with uncontrollable shivers. 

“I meet plenty of women. But timing and circumstances are never there,” Kevin said. He settled onto his back and turned off the water to the sink. He began working, leaning forward to grab a tool and then use it under the sink. 

His shirt rode up revealing a soft middle that you wanted to sink your teeth into. He was solid and stocky, built for sturdiness. 

“What do you mean by timing and circumstance?” You asked.

“Well, I did have a thing with someone but wasn’t exactly healthy. She didn’t like that I’m a cop,” he said. 

“Hate to break it to you, but you’ll find that a lot of people won’t like that you’re a cop,” you said. For you, it was always, “fuck cops”. After meeting Kevin, now it was, “want to fuck that cop in particular”. 

You looked useless sitting there at the kitchen table, but what else were you supposed to do? You still had some unpacking to do but you didn’t feel right leaving him alone. The place didn’t feel like yours yet. Your manners prevented you from leaving him to it as if he were some servant only here to do a job. 

“That’s fair. But can’t stop me from trying,” he said.

“That’s the spirit. Are you a romantic?” You asked. You heard the words after you spoke them and shook your head, not that he could see. “Sorry, that’s rude. You don’t have to answer that.” You pushed your glasses back up your nose and blew out a quiet sigh. 

“Nah, it’s cool. I guess, yeah, I would say I’m a romantic. Just waiting for the right girl. How ‘bout you come help me? Hand me that wrench,” he said. He pointed to something in his toolbox.

You stood up and got closer to him, getting down to your knees and sitting back on your legs. You picked up the nearest wrench and handed it to his outstretched hand. You shared a look with him as he took it from you and began loosening a bolt on the pipe. 

“You? You into the whole thing about romance?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah. I believe it exists. How anyone can find love here when you’re freezing your ass off is beyond me,” you said.

“It’s all about layers. Undershirt, thermal, overshirt, sweater, hoodie, jacket. You’ll be warm enough,” he said.

You giggled. “Warm enough? I’d be sweating worse than…” You successfully caught yourself before mentioning sex. You bit the corners of your mouth to prevent you from giggling about that. Something about Kevin Atwater turned you into a giggling mess like some kid with a crush. 

“Worse than what?” Kevin asked. 

You glanced at him. His pink tongue poked out between his lips as he worked on the bolt. The screeching from the metal grated a bit and you winced. 

“Worse than a sauna,” you finished lamely. He flicked a glance at you as if he knew that wasn’t what you were going to say originally. He left it alone as he hummed and returned to the bolt. 

“You get used to it,” he said.

“This type of cold? No thanks,” you said.

Kevin chuckled. He sat up from the sink and fixed his shirt, lowering it over the glimpse of his stomach. He looked at you and smiled. “There’s more to Chicago than just the winter time. We have the best pizza. Everybody friendly, they just loud about it. Tell you what, why don’t you finally take me up on my offer to take you to Molly’s? It’s run by a couple of friends. They’re nice people, we’d all protect you, and you’d be able to get out and enjoy some things around here,” he said. 

“A bar full of cops, doctors, and firemen? I’d feel so intimidated,” you said. You shook your head and giggled. 

“Don’t. You need to get out,” he said.

“Pot, meet kettle. How many times have you been out this week?” 

“Fair. But if you go out, I will too,” he said. 

You held his stare and bit the corners of your mouth again. “I have so much to do here already,” you said. You didn’t like that you kept turning him down but the thought of meeting that many people at once? You wouldn’t survive it. 

You knew Kevin would be nice and show you around but being at the center of attention was unbearable. 

“One day I’ll get you to say yes. If you’re gonna be here, you may as well make some friends. I think you’d get along with Stella. You remind me of her,” he said. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, tough, no nonsense, funny, sweet,” he said. 

“Please,” you said and giggled. Was this Stella single? Did they have something going? 

Kevin opened his mouth to say something else when the wind howled louder, tearing your gaze to the window. The window shook and the lights began to flicker before they spasmed out. You shrieked as you were shrouded in darkness. 

The pale, white glow of the outside gave your apartment a blue and gray tint. Like waking up in the morning and the sun was still hiding behind clouds. You stood up and went to the window but you weren’t sure what you were looking for. Only that the snow and hail seemed to fall harder, peppering the ground. 

“Shoot,” you said. 

Kevin stood up and moved behind you, placing one hand on your hip while he leaned behind you to look outside as well. His warm hand scorched your skin as he looked one way and then another. 

“Let me see if it’s just us. Lock this door behind me,” he said.

You’d never seen this side of him yet. The kind that took charge. A new authority entered his voice, one that did not entertain disobedience. He turned and walked out and you followed behind to close and lock the door. 

You paced your kitchen as you waited. You didn’t know why. Lights went out all the time. He was perfectly safe going to the basement to check the circuit breaker. Minutes passed while you piddled around, cleaning up runaway socks on the floor around the hamper. 

Still had things to unload in the bathroom, but without light, you couldn’t see what you were pulling out of the box. It was too awkward holding your phone’s flashlight and the items. 

A knock on your door made you jump but then you checked the peephole. Kevin stood there with his hands in his pockets, glancing around. You opened the door and let him back inside. 

“Power’s out on the whole block. I already put in a call with utilities. With this kind of storm, there’s no telling when they’ll get out,” he said.

You sighed. “Oh, Kevin, I’m so sorry!” You said. You should have pushed him harder to stay home. To fix it another day. 

“Hey, what did we say about apologizing?” He asked.

“Sorry! I just feel so bad. Oh! I said it again, sorry,” you said. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you couldn’t stop apologizing for trapping him here. Now what were you going to do? He couldn’t fix your sink in the dark and there was no power to cook so you couldn’t offer him a meal. 

Kevin crossed towards you, invading your personal space. “No more apologizing. It’s okay,” he said.

“Well, I was going to save these until after. Since you’re stuck with me, we have cookies to hold us over,” you said. 

“If I had to be stuck anywhere, I’m glad it’s with you,” he said. 

You smiled and tugged on the sleeves of your purple shirt. Now that the power was out, that meant your heater was too. “Shit,” you said, realizing.

You told Kevin and he nodded. “Have you unpacked something to drink? I’ll show you how us Chicagoans stay warm,” he said. 

“That’s the first thing I unpacked,” you said. You left his overwhelming presence and went to your kitchen. The plate of cookies were wrapped on the short sink so that he wouldn’t have seen it. You wanted to surprise him with gratitude for all the hard work he did around your place.

You opened a cabinet and grabbed two glasses. They clinked together as you placed them on the sink and went to a small pantry, taking out a bottle of whiskey. Kevin joined you in the kitchen to help and he whistled at the bottle. “Basil Hayden?” He asked.

“Did you expect something girly?” You asked. 

“No ma’am, just didn’t take you for a whiskey type,” he said. He grinned and joined you at the table. 

“Now, we don’t want to get wasted but the goal is to keep a steady drink going to stay warm. So how ‘bout some questions to get to know each other? Since we got all this time,” he said. 

“Is this an interrogation?” You asked with a giggle. 

“Naw, just two friends getting to know each other. So we either answer truthfully or take shots. Up for it?” He asked. 

“I’m game if you are,” you said. Kevin took the lead by pouring tiny shots for you both in each glass. He pushed your glass towards you.

“You can go first,” he said.

You tapped the glass and thought about a good question to ask. “I’ll go easy. What’s a secret you’ve never told anyone?” 

“That’s easy?” He asked.

You nodded. You pointed to his glass. “You can always drink up if that’s too hard on you,” you said.

He smirked. “A secret I’ve never told anyone…I once met my celebrity crush at a mall signing. She signed a poster for me. I…still have it,” he said and smiled.

“Who! Who’s your secret crush?” You asked.

“Aht, it’s my turn. Worst heartbreak?” He asked.

“Easy questions, huh?” You asked.

He shrugged. “You don’t become friends by finding out each other’s favorite colors.”

You thought about it and nodded. You told him about your worst heartbreak and how you dealt with it. How difficult it was to move on from it. 

You went back and forth asking safe, but deep questions that required more than yes or no answers. You learned more about him and if it was possible, you fell for him even more.

“How in the world are you single?” You asked when it was your turn again. 

Kevin chuckled and played with his glass. So far, you had taken a few shots too nervous to answer the questions he asked. He had only taken two. One for when you asked about his parents and one when you asked about his first love. 

“I wish I knew. I date; you make it sound like I hide in my house after work. The shit I see every day, sometimes I just need to get it out of my head. Dating on top of that just seems cruel,” he said. 

You nodded. You could respect that. You had no idea what it was like being a cop. Seeing the worst humanity had to offer and still have to come up with hope for the people who survived. Dealing with the press and the community painting cops as modern day boogeyman. Still. He was too sweet and strong to not have someone. It was criminal. 

“How come you don’t have anyone?” He asked.

You fixed your glasses and shrugged. “May be a surprise to you but guys these days are…nasty. They send unsolicited dick pics, they can’t hold a conversation, and think women owe them something for buying them a drink. Like…I didn’t ask for the drink so why does that mean I have to open my legs or suck them off? Especially when they won’t even go down on a woman!” 

Kevin’s surprised face made you suddenly feel the alcohol loosening your limbs and warming you up. It definitely loosened your tongue. You groaned and rubbed your forehead. “Sorry, that’s TMI,” you said. 

“I would say take a drink every time you apologize, but then this bottle would be gone.”

The word was on the tip of your tongue and you bit it to keep from speaking it. He smirked at your attempt and you rolled your eyes. “You don’t know everything,” you said. Well, the door was open…

“What is your ideal woman?” You asked.

“Ideal? Shit, I just want someone I vibe with. That thinks like me. Has goals,” he said. 

“Beauty? Brains?” You asked.

“Why won’t you go to Molly’s with me?” He asked.

You smiled, remembering that it was only one question per person. “I don’t know anyone. Meeting new people sucks. I don’t have the personality for great first impressions,” you said.

“You know me,” he said. “I would make sure you’re good. And you are great at first impressions. I wouldn’t have rented to you otherwise.”

“You are just being nice like always. Why is it important for me to go to Molly’s?” 

“I want you to feel welcome here. Feel like you belong so you can stay,” he said. 

You ducked your head, playing with your glass. The soft slide of glass on the table was the only sound in the room. Outside, the wind continued to howl as the storm carried on. You shivered, despite feeling toasty from the whiskey. Your skin felt icy. “I moved here, Kevin. That’s about as permanent as it gets.” 

Kevin scooted closer. He had to spread his legs wider to accommodate your chair. The smell of him invaded your senses. The smell of whiskey on him made your head fuzzy. He brought his hand up to caress your cheek. He gently turned your head to look at him.

“This may be the drink talkin’, but you feel this too, right? Between us? If I’m imagining it, let me know now,” he said. 

You looked at his lips and then back up to his eyes. He caught the movement and did the same, his gaze drifting down your face and then back up again. 

“You’re not imagining it,” you said. 

Kevin leaned over and captured your lips in a sweet, tender kiss that warmed you up quicker than the whiskey. You returned the kiss, sighing, tongues dueling with each other. 

“Hmm, knew you’d taste sweet,” he said. He pecked your lips once, twice, and then lingered on the third time humming. 

Emboldened by his actions, you leaned out of your chair. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. Kevin sighed and put his hands on your hips, squeezing every so often. 

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said.

You smiled and kissed him again, rolling your hips. He groaned and his hands went lower to grab your ass. He gripped and massaged your ass, squeezing painfully enough to make you cry into his mouth. He growled hearing the sound, kissing you with more passion after each kiss. 

“I want you, Kevin Atwater,” you said against his lips. 

“Are you sure?” He asked. He leaned back and looked into your eyes. “If you’ve had too much to drink–” 

“Shut up,” you said with a grin and kissed him. 

You had been playing this subtle game between each other for weeks as you signed your lease and moved in. The first time you called him to tell him about your stuck doors, he showed up the next day he was free. He made conversation easy as he fixed the doors. He immediately put you at ease. 

He found that your closet door was stuck too but he didn’t have time to fix it at the time. He told you that he would be back and again, he made it so easy to talk to him and time flew by when he was around. It was like you didn’t have time to think about being nervous when he was telling you about must see attractions to Chicago. He kept talking about the pizza and promised to bring one over.

He made moving there for work not feel so lonely. You were worried if you would find friends outside of work. No matter what, work friends were not true friends. 

You kissed him again, your hands drifting down to start unbuttoning his shirt. The alcohol wasn’t affecting you in the way he thought. It only lowered your natural anxiousness about being bolder. Funner. More open. Going after what you wanted.

Now that you knew you weren’t crazy, that he wanted you as well, a dam broke. Kevin matched your desperateness to get your clothes off as well. 

“I know another way to stay warm,” you said. 

Kevin chuckled. “I told you I can help with whatever you need,” he said. “I keep my promises.” 

You finally got his shirt loose and pushed it off of his shoulders. He had huge muscles, showing off a physique that made you lick your lips in anticipation. His thighs bunched underneath you and you moaned, rolling your hips against his pelvis. 

His erection was thick against his jeans. Kevin grabbed the edges of your shirt and pulled it off you, revealing your bra. He moaned and kissed around your chest. His hands traveled up and down your back, warming it up just like he promised. 

The black tank he wore underneath looked damn good on him but it had to go. He stopped kissing your chest long enough to let you remove it.  Your hands explored his chest while he put his mouth over your nipple through the fabric. 

You moaned, throwing your head back and giving him better access. He took the opportunity you presented and sucked on your titty until the fabric was soaked with his saliva. Your nipple became increasingly sensitive under his attention. You were hissing and shaking by the time he finally let go and admired his handiwork.

He switched to your other nipple, giving it the same love and attention as the first. You squirmed in his lap, unable to stop moving. Your hands moved to the back of his neck and held him to you. He groaned and continued to tug and suckle on your nipple until it was sensitive as well. 

As a big girl, it was not easy to feel small. Dainty. Delicate. But you felt like that in Kevin’s capable hands. You felt worshiped. Adored. The soft light coming from outside made the room feel like a bubble. Like time stopped somewhere outside and you were free to explore. To breathe. To cherish this moment with Kevin. 

He licked the swell of your breast outside of your bra and you moaned. He kissed up your neck until his lips found yours. Until he was nibbling on your lips and licking away the sting. He sucked on your bottom lip and you felt the tug in your pussy. 

You were uncomfortably wet. You felt your arousal dampening your panties. You didn’t know how much longer you would hold out. Or survive. 

“You squirming a lot there. You feelin’ good?” He asked.

“Yes,” you moaned. 

“What I’m gon’ find when I take them panties off?” He asked. 

“Me, excited. Ready for you,” you said.

“Ohh, you a little naughty on top of being sweet?” 

You didn’t have time to answer. Kevin stood up, holding you, cupping your ass so you didn’t slip. He kissed you while he held you. But your heart was thumping. Thundering. “I got you, don’t you even worry,” he whispered against your lips.

The apartment was small so he crossed the space in a few steps to get to your bed. He gently laid you down and stepped back to admire how needy you were. How you stretched out on the bed and made a sublime vision of wantonness. 

He bit his lip with a smirk as he unbuttoned your jeans and tugged them off your hips. Your breathing was rapid, out of control. Your chest rose and fell in quick succession. Your skin felt alive and electric. Like he needed to enter you right this second or you’d spontaneously combust.

“Look at you. Needy little thing,” he commented. His hands spanned the expanse of your thighs, rubbing and kneading. 

“Oh, Kevin,” you moaned. 

“So you ready for me, huh?” He asked. You watched through slitted eyes as he tilted his head. How could he be in control right now? Had it been that long for you? 

You were too busy packing and saying goodbye to family and friends to worry about getting your rocks off. You were too busy working and unpacking in Chicago to worry about finding someone to relieve the pressure. The past few weeks, it had been you and Roman the Rose. 

“I’m so ready,” you said, making him chuckle. 

He took off his shoes, socks, and jeans and you watched him unveil parts of his body you imagined. Lusted over. Pictured way too often to ever tell him the truth. 

“Mhm, we gon’ see,” he said. He joined you on the bed. Kneeling on it, the bed groaned under his weight and you smiled. Your bed had been previously unprepared for someone of his size. He dropped his lips to your chest slowly. When his breath fanned over your nipples, you moaned and twisted away from him.

He completely covered you, however, so there was no place to go. He licked the swell of your breasts again, glancing up at your reactions. You were mesmerized by him. Under his spell. One of his hands slipped up your thigh and you twinged. Goosebumps pebbled your skin but you felt like you were on fire. 

He pressed a thumb over your panties and pushed in, digging the fabric past your pussy lips and groaned at the wet glide of it already. “Oh shit,” you moaned. 

“Hm, look what I found,” he said against your skin. 

His fingers played with your pussy over your panties and you kept moving, twisting, writhing against your bed and underneath him. Every so often, his thumb would grace your pussy lips. That hint of skin to skin contact made you hiss and roll your hips against his hand. 

Kevin used his teeth to drag down the cup of your bra. He grinned finding your dark nipple and then he latched on, swirling his tongue around it in a way that let you know he’d do the same to your pussy when given the chance. 

Your breaths were choppy. Belly flipping. Pussy throbbing. Hands clutching your sheets and yanking. 

Your orgasm was tearing through you, stealing your breath like a thief. Stars exploded behind your eyelids as rippling pleasure traveled throughout your body. Kevin hummed through it all. 

“Look so damn pretty when you cum. Gon’ look even better when I get in there. I bet you’re gonna feel good ridin’ this dick,” he said. His raspy voice was its own brand of magic. Your nipples were still sensitive under his ministrations and the painful tug felt delicious. 

You whimpered. He used his teeth to drag down your other cup and gave it attention as well. His tongue flicking across the dark areola. “Shit!” You moaned.

“Mhm, let me hear it,” he said. His warm breath fanned across the wet spots he left behind and you shuddered. 

“Kevin, please,” you begged.

“Naw, that beggin’ shit don’t work on me,” he said. 

You whimpered once more as he rolled your nipple between his teeth. His hand went back to rubbing your pussy but this time, he finally slipped underneath. His thumb teased the area around your clit, never quite hitting it and teasing you with no mercy. 

“Oh fuuck,” you moaned. You turned your head to the side and bit your sheets, turning distraught at the realization that he was going to take his time with your body. He was an explorer. He was a master conductor fine tuning your body and learning the sounds you were capable of producing. 

He sucked hard on your nipple and your back left the soft sheets, arching away from the bed. “Augh,” moaned. 

At the same time, he dipped a finger into your entrance getting his finger wet up to the knuckle. “Nice and fuckin’ wet. Fuck,” he moaned. 

You hissed as he moved his finger in and out. His thumb continued to tease your clit, never directly touching it. It was a dual sensation that drove you insane and contracted on his finger.

“You gon’ feel this good squeezing on my dick?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you said and nodded. Hell yes you would. He just needed to believe you and get inside you already. You moved your hips against his finger and he hummed in appreciation. 

“Oh, impatient too. You wanna cum again?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yes, please, I wanna cum,” you whined, your voice tinny and weak. 

“Good girl, using your words without me having to tell you. A’right, I’ll let you cum,” he said. He pushed a second finger inside you and then began pumping in earnest. His thumb moved to rub circles around your clit and you came instantly, shouting and twitching.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you moaned as you came, eyes rolling into the back of your head. Kevin placed kisses along your chest as you did so, keeping up his particular brand of torture. He slowed down as your breathing returned to normal. 

“Hmm-mm,” I can get used to that,” he said.

You struggled to your elbows and looked at him. “Fuck,” you panted.

He grinned and stood up. He slipped his fingers out of you and then licked them one by one. He moaned, closing his eyes. Fuck. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. He licked his fingers like runaway scoops of brownie mix left on the spatula. 

You were getting worked up looking at him. He was distracted. You smirked as you leaned forward and pressed kisses to his stomach. He tensed up at the contact and you looked up at him. 

He grinned at you, grabbing you by the throat. Your eyes fluttered closed. He hummed. He pulled you into a kiss. A wet, sloppy, loud one that made you hiss and scoot closer to him. You were dripping, soaked. Every movement you made called attention to the fact that you were wet as hell.

“I got somethin’ for you, but I wanna eat first. We didn’t get to them cookies you baked,” he said. 

Your eyes turned watery. “Please, let me touch you, Kevin,” you said. 

He planted another kiss on your lips, lingering to swipe his tongue around your lips and diving inside. Your pussy ached. You’d never felt so empty in your entire life. “You’ll get your chance to make sure my dick wet for you. I don’t wanna hurt you when I finally fuck you,” he said.

You sighed painfully through your nose. Your vision swam with tears. You were beyond horny. You didn’t think you were this insatiable. You had two orgasms already but you wanted more. You wanted more from him. 

Kevin licked his lips and removed his hand from your neck.. He rubbed your lips with his thumb and then gave you a sweeter kiss this time around. “Now lean back and let me get to eatin’,” he commanded.

You needed no further encouragement as you flopped back onto the bed. He peeled your panties off, cooing at the dripping mess you were. “Hm-mm,” he sighed. He kissed your thighs as he slipped your panties off. He licked your calf. He threw your panties somewhere behind him and it landed with a soft, wet plop. 

You would have felt embarrassed usually. But there was nothing but pure, uncut lust. You could taste it in the air. Feel it burning you inside and out. 

Kevin hummed, stroking himself through his briefs. He spread your legs and watched as your arousal slowly leaked out of you. You felt it roll down the crack of your ass and shivered. Cool air blasted from somewhere. The wind continued to howl, adding to the soft orchestra of sounds you were currently making. 

Kevin knelt down slowly and got into position between your legs. He put them over his shoulders and yanked you down to the edge of the bed. His arms hooked underneath your legs and spread you open for his meal.

He blew slowly across your wet clit and you shivered. The anticipation was worse. You couldn’t stop moving, shaking, yearning. Kevin laughed and kissed your clit. He hummed. “Taste so fuckin’ good already. You’re so wet, baby,” he said. “Gonna drown in this pretty pussy.” 

“Fuck, Kevin!” You shrieked. 

He chuckled. “Calm down, what you cussin’ for? I ain’t even do nothin’ yet,” he said. 

You whined, rolling your hips. “Please, please, please,” you begged. You couldn’t take this teasing. You weren’t used to it. Had you even had sex before this? You thought you had decent lovers before. Men who knew what they were doing and had you screaming until the cows came home.

But Kevin? Kevin eclipsed any man that came before. You were a virgin all over again. This was your first time and your partner was an expert. A sex demon sent straight from hell. 

“The more you beg, the longer I take,” he said. He licked outside of your pussy lips. He went as far as the seam and pulled back, licking down ‘till he reached your entrance. His tongue just crested the surface of it. 

“Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You yelled and huffed. 

Kevin continued to tease you, drawing curses and screams and yells as he explored your body. Your thighs shook violently. Tingles turned to pinpricks against your legs the longer he held them open. 

Wave upon wave of desire flooded your system. Your hands played in his hair as he worked, savoring you. He hummed every so often when you tugged on his hair or made a sound that sounded like you were near death. Near leaving this plane of existence forever.

You stopped trying to plead with him. You become engrossed in the pleasure he was giving you. You and it were one and you surrendered to the feel of him. He finally pushed in further, drawing his tongue close to your clit.

“Auhh,” you croaked.

Kevin kept going, swirling his tongue. His sloppy, loud eating was seduction personified. He sucked so hard that he made noises with your pussy. 

You couldn’t say anything to let him know that you were enjoying yourself. You couldn’t encourage him to keep doing what he was doing. Your mind was gone. Gone on a different trip this time. 

He sighed against your pussy and then flicked his tongue on your clit. It was your undoing. You cried out, pupils blown wide as you came and came and came. Shivers wracked your body. Kevin held you down in his powerful arms, helping you weather the tempest rushing through you.

Your fingers dug into his wild hair and pulled. It didn’t seem to faze Kevin. He continued to eat you out as if searching for the next meal course. He ate you on the way down from the high. You moaned and bit your lip, hoping pain would help dull this type of ecstasy. It did not. 

Kevin smacked his lips as he slowly stopped, rolling his tongue one more time. He leaned back and surveyed his work. You heard him smacking his lips. “Makin’ such a big mess for me,” he whispered. He kissed your pussy and then leaned back. 

Your eyes found his. He smirked. His beard dripped with your essence. Entire lower jaw was wet and you saw trails of your slick in his beard. He rubbed it in, moving his hand to work in what you left on him. 

“How you feelin’, gorgeous?” He asked. 

“Like I died,” you said.

He chuckled. “Well, now you got some work to do. Get this dick wet,” he said.

He helped you into a sitting position. You yelped, feeling the giant pool you made on the edge of the bed. You were definitely going to have to wash these immediately. He grabbed your throat, tearing your thoughts away from the bed and back onto him. 

He leaned down and kissed you. Fuck, you tasted good on him. You smelled yourself and it only turned you on more. He sucked on your bottom lip and then swiped his tongue up. He made out with you and you somehow dripped more. You were a veritable slip and slide at this point. If he entered you, he’d face no resistance.

He pulled back and you smiled goofily at him. He smiled back. “Even better than I been dreamin’,” he said. He leaned back and let you go. You watched as he removed his briefs. Your eyes widened at the size of him. 

He was long and thick, a deadly combination. Maybe all the prep time was more from necessity. Had he tried entering you without lube or without foreplay, that shit would hurt. You were no punk though.

You fixed your glasses and greedily took him into your mouth. You were not as nuanced as he was. You did not have time for games. You had been desperate to touch him, taste him, and explore him in the same way he did to you. You sucked the tip of him and he hissed, hands going to the side of your face.

You pushed past his hands, sucking as much of him down as you could. You used your hands on the area you couldn’t get to. You spat on his dick and used it to let your hands glide better. 

“Sweet fuck,” he moaned. 

You sucked on him, remembering to breathe through your nose so that you didn’t pass out doing this. Your pussy throbbed as he continued to moan and throw his head back, rolling his neck. Your drool slipped past your lips and coated his shaft. You flicked your tongue across his tip and he jerked his hips forward.

His hands on the side of your head gripped you harder and pushed you down on his dick. Deeper than you would normally take someone. You had been worried that you would puke or something. However, you relaxed your throat and worked together to soak his dick with your saliva and make sure that he wouldn’t hurt you on entry. 

“Fuck, right there. Right there,” he moaned. 

You moaned right back, loving the way he took control of his pleasure and used you. “Let me cum in that pussy, baby,” he said.

You looked up at him and he licked his lips. You nodded. “Yef,” you said around his dick.

He slipped out of your mouth and you sucked in deep breaths. Your head was light. Floating. Soaring. You licked your lips and rubbed your cheeks to get the ache out. But Kevin grabbed you roughly and flipped you over on the bed.

“Ouee, shit,” you groaned. You sniffled. Fuck, he was ruining you for any other guy. You would never be able to have sex with anyone else ever again! Was it too early to propose? Was it too early to ask him to move into this tiny apartment with you and deliver this every night on demand? Would that scare him away? 

His large hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. One hand left as he guided his dick to your entrance. You sighed. There was no reason to beg him not to tease you. He wouldn’t listen either way. 

Kevin shoved inside in one hard thrust that brought those stars back to your mind’s eye. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuh,” you moaned. 

As suspected, he slipped in easily thanks to the foreplay and you sucking him off. He groaned as he was fully seated and began rolling his hips, giving you long, deep strokes. He grinded in your pussy and you began to shake and shiver on him. 

“Throw that shit back like you want it,” he said. 

You listened, throwing it back. He was stroking so hard that you couldn’t brace yourself. You dropped down to your elbows and raised your ass higher. He moaned as he stroked deeper, hitting your sweet spot and making your toes curl. 

“Kevin, Kevin, Kevin,” you chanted.

“Yeah, I know I’m hittin’ that shit. Bounce it back,” he said.

You moved your hips faster, matching his pace. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked back. Your head snapped back, a bite of pain on your scalp. “Auh, auh, auh,” you croaked.

His thrusts made your ass clap on him. “Mhm, gripping that shit,” he moaned. He twisted your hair again, yanking your head back a little more and stroking into you with precision. 

“Oue, baby, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned. “I’m cumming, baby.”

“Cum on then. Cum on this dick so I can nut in this pussy,” he said.

You cried. You exploded. You were ripped apart as the orgasm burrowed through your system. Your legs shook and twitched. Your pussy gripped him tight, making him snug as he pounded. 

Kevin continued stroking until he groaned and busted inside of you. Hot pulses of cum signed his name in the crevices of your pussy and you moaned with him. 

He slammed inside of you two more times and stilled, panting. He slowly worked his way out of you and you groaned. You immediately flopped onto the bed. Strength left you. Your energy was gone. 

Kevin’s quiet huffs let you track him through the apartment. You heard water running and then he was back, cleaning you up. You whined, crying and pushing away from him. He cooed at you and gently cleaned you up. 

Sleep tugged at you. You yawned. Kevin returned. You were putty in his hands as he moved you away from the mess you made. “I know another way to warm you up too,” he said.

“Hm,” you sighed. 

He chuckled as he got you out of the puddle. You sighed, curling up now that you were in a dry spot. Kevin placed something onto the wet spot and then got in bed with you, pulling your back into his chest. He spread out covers over you. 

You had just enough thought to take off your glasses and put it on the nightstand next to you. 

His hand came around to rest against your titty, still clad in your bra. He threw one leg over you and your body instantly warmed up. He was a space heater. You snuggled into his warmth and were out like a light, with a giant smile on your face.

The END.

The Secret Kevin Atwater Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Kevin Atwater Files #Kevin Atwater x Black!reader #Kevin Atwater x Black reader #x Black reader #Kevin Atwater x Fem!reader #Kevin Atwater x Fem reader #Kevin Atwater x reader #x reader #Kevin Atwater x you #Kevin Atwater imagine #Kevin Atwater fanfic #Kevin Atwater fan fic #Kevin Atwater fanfiction #Kevin Atwater fan fiction #Kevin Atwater smut #Chicago PD #Chicago P.D. #Chicago PD fanfic #Chicago PD fan fic #Chicago PD fan fiction #Chicago PD fanfiction #Chicago PD smut

[saenora]

Imagine meeting your neighbor Yuuta in the apartment next yours. You were coming back home from another shitty date night. Cursing about how the guy just wanted to fuck you and didn’t even pay for the food. You were tired and tipsy and mostly angry, as your keys seem to be working against you, you tried twisting and turning the key multiple times in the keyhole to get inside your apartment. But it just wasn’t working, you let out a scream and bang your head against the door. Tears pricking at your eyes as you choked out sobs. You then hear the door turning and around the corner peeked a timid looking young man? Teen? He looked old enough not to be called a kid but his babyface made him seem really young. You blink at him thru unshed tears and jumped away from the door. “O-oh shit! This was your apartment! I am so fucking sorry, I thought this was my apartment, you see I’m not a crazy person, I swear! I just-I-fuck-I” You start babbling about your terrible date night to your confused and possibly scared neighbor you just met.

You couldn’t stop yourself though, like the tears, your words just kept on spilling out. Until your were a crying mess, your neighbor didn’t end up calling the cops on you though, he held you in his arms and soothes your cries until you were just whimpering. He listen to your words and said sweets words to you that made your heart melt and heat pool in your core. He invited you inside his apartment after you calmed down, saying “I hate to leave a pretty girl like you stained with tears all alone tonight…” He was so sweet and nice, and alluring.. your mind was a daze as you knew you shouldn’t trust a stranger but the way he held your hand and wiped away your tears… You joined him inside.

“Ah-Ah-mmm-hahh!” Now here you were, legs locked into a mating press by the boy that was just sweet talking you earlier. You were crying once again, but not from sadness this time, you were crying from the overstimulation, Yuuta was giving you on your spent pussy. “Yuuta! Yuu-ahhh, Yuuta, Yuuta!” You chanted his name like it was the only thing you knew how to say even though you barely learned it tonight. His hips slammed in yours with such force that the bed shake beneath you everytime, his thumb was rubbing circles on your puffy clit, the cum and juices leftover from the orgasms before made it quite easy for him to rub at you. “It’s your fault, you know.. hahh.. fuck.. banging on my door like that.. wearing this slutty dress..mmf.. like you were begging me to just fuck you then and there..”

You whined as you start to feel another orgasm building, however this time, Yuuta pulled out his thick cock and slapped it against your twitching clit. His arms still pressing your legs against your chest. "You want to come again...?"

"Hmm... tell me that won't go see those other men anymore and that this pussy.." He slaps his wrist this time against your pussy, causing you to try to buck your hips up, to no avail. "Belongs to me and only me... and then I'll give you what you been begging for.."

RAHHH YUUTA IM TIRED STOP INVADING MY BRAIN PLS

SOFTIEEEE I AHVE BEEN REREADING THIS OVWR AND OVER AGAINSHE TRYING TO FIND TEH RITE WORDS TO TYPE IN THE RESPONSE 😭😭😭 BUT I CANTSHDDJ FRFRFRFR… THIS YUUTA ISSS SUCHA. DREAM… NEED HIM TO RUTT AGAINST ME 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 HE IS SUCHA. NEEED AND I CAN BE SO NEEDY FOR H— BYE

#: @mrskenmakozume @kenruu @daikiiss

#SO UNWELL #SP.icy #THIS IS GETTING DRABBLE TAGS BEC THIS IS SO GOOOD #yuuta #yuuta x you #yuuta smut #jjk smut #jjk yuuta #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuuta drabble #okkotsu yuuta #okkutsu yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x you #zen’s favs #softy !!! 🫶

[forlorn-crows]

metal mouth

a lil pairing for @yesandpeeps's comic here about my beloved mountain getting braces. he's so fuckin cute i can't stand it

1.3k of grumpy mountain under the cut:

"Now, caro, there is no need to be upset," Copia soothes. "They will help you, si? I do not want you to be in pain, my earth ghoul, that is no good for any of us."

Mountain shrugs, gaze downcast. “It just seems so . . . trivial.”

“Your health is not trivial; it is simply unfamiliar, or perhaps, er, too human?” Copia offers. 

The ghoul looks the man in his eyes, apprehensive. But he nods, agreeing. 

Braces. What a mortal thing to be burdened with as an ancient hellbeast. 

Mountain had started to complain about mouth pain a few months ago. His teeth, especially his fangs, had never been perfect. None of theirs were. Crooked teeth were not high on his list as far as complaints about appearance. Fitting oversized, monstrous bones into a mortal mouth certainly isn't a comfortable thing. 

But they all managed. Mountain managed. Until, that is, they started shifting, crowding in on each other and messing with his bite. The perfect space that his fangs fit into was suddenly too snug, the points of them clacking together if he chewed wrong or made a funny face at Swiss over his cymbals. His bottom incisors had begun to tip forward, threatening to give him an underbite. 

Suddenly, his teeth were just . . . wrong. And once they started becoming tender and sensitive to his favorite meals, Aether determined it was time for Copia to get involved, much to Mountain’s chagrin. 

“You know, I had braces as a child,” Copia muses now. “Quite bulky things. I could never pick out the right colors.” He chuckles a little, but stops when he catches the frown starting to form on Mountain’s face. He reaches up to pat him on the shoulder and scritch under his chin. “Not to worry, they will not look as bad as mine did, my ghoul.”

But they’ll still look bad, is what his brain translates Papa’s words to. 

Mountain’s already regretting complaining about it all.

—

The afternoon and evening after getting them placed is spent alone. Mountain is none too kindly reminded of the first time his horns shed, hours spent hiccuping through tears as he stared at his foreign reflection. 

They look . . . weird. They feel weird. Little bits of metal poking at his gums, his tongue, the inside of his mouth. His teeth look too small, too human for his liking. Mountain couldn’t fathom adding some unnatural color on top of it all, so he chose the translucent, slightly frosted elastic chain. It may yellow overtime, the orthodontist had said. Mountain had nodded, accepted this potential side effect, but he really didn’t care. 

He’s thankful to have an entire drum kit to hide behind. But his pack? Well, he can hide from them at least for the next twelve hours. 

Mountain steps away from the bathroom mirror with a sigh and goes back to uselessly pruning the ferns hanging over the windows. 

—

He rises the next day from a fitful sleep just as the sun peeks through the leaded panes. His mouth is screaming at him, gums sensitive and too much pressure everywhere. Lines of pain shoot up his jaw when he rubs across a nerve, and Mountain winces with a curse on his tongue.

Begrudgingly, he gets dressed for the day, despite the urge to crawl back into bed and sulk for as long as he can. But he can't very well do that with tour starting up again in a matter of weeks, so he pulls on some sweats and slumps to the kitchen. 

Tea. He needs tea. And probably a few hours alone with a quintessence ghoul.

No one’s in the common area when he arrives, and he silently thanks the devil below for a moment of solitude. The earth ghoul huffs a sigh through his nose and rifles through the teabags for something smooth and spiced. 

The warm scent of chai and orange zest hits his nose as Mountain waits for his cup to steep, smiling ever so slightly as the fragrant steam wafts over his face. It makes him feel better, even if just for a moment. 

Mountain cringes internally as he hears small feet padding down the corridor. He knows it’s Dew before he sees him, the little ghoul often rising with the sun most mornings. He tucks his face further into his mug, caging his forearms around his face.

The fire ghoul lets out a big yawn as he rounds the corner, stretching to brush the top of the short archway as he enters. Dew chirps when he sees the earth ghoul hunched over at the table. 

“Mornin’ Mount,” he mumbles. He inhales a lungful of air, sighing with a happy hum. “Hm, smells good. Mind if I join?”

Mountain shakes his head, mussed-up waves falling in front of his face. 

“Thanks,” Dew says. He makes his way over to the cabinets with a lilt in his step, humming some indiscriminate tune as he selects his favorite mug. Tired, but still too cheery for how early it is. It’s quiet between them for a few moments, save for the clinking of ceramic and Dew’s song. Mountain lowers his shoulders a little. 

And promptly raises them back up under his ears when Dew asks: “How’re the braces?” Mountain knows the fire ghoul is looking at him expectantly, ears perked. He doesn’t have to look to know his eyes are kind, rather than filled with malice or ill-intent. Dew wouldn’t make fun of him he knows, but he would love nothing more than to escape to the forest and bury his head in the dirt right now. 

“Fine,” he lies. “Kinda hurts,” he mumbles as an afterthought, doing his best to speak with the least amount of mouth movements. 

Dew tuts empathetically. He doesn’t speak again, but Mountain still feels his eyes on him. He chances a glance at him, which was really the wrong thing to do, considering the way Dew’s face perks up when he does. His arms are folded across his chest as he leans nonchalantly against the kitchen counter, hair and eyes glinting gold in the rising sunlight. 

Dew gives him a knowing grin and raises his eyebrows, attempting to prompt the earth ghoul into sharing his new set of braces. Mountain stares back, shy. But, against his will, there's a smile tugging at his lips, like he simply can't help it when Dew looks at him like that.

He smiles wider. "Come on big guy, will you show me?" Dew shuffles over to him at the table. "Please?"

Mountain bites the inside of his cheek, eyes steely. He shakes his head sheepishly, already pushing away from the table, chair legs scraping against the floor as he moves to make his escape. 

He doesn’t get very far. The fire ghoul steps in front of him, one hand grabbing Mountain’s sweater sleeve and the other reaching up towards his face. Dew waggles his fingers under his chin with a stupid giggle, bouncing on his toes as Mountain jerks his head away from his hand.

“Dew,” he warns, unable to escape his little fingers. “Swear t’ Satan, ‘f you don—”

“Ha!” the smaller ghoul exclaims, grabbing Mountain’s cheeks at last and squishing them together until the earth ghoul can’t help but bare his teeth, a grimace more than a grin. Mountain pulls at Dew’s wrist to try and dislodge him.

“Stooop,” he groans. Dew gives him a few squeezes before releasing him, opting to wrap both arms around Mountain’s middle instead and nuzzling against his chest in apology.

“But you look fine, Mount. Cute, even,” he laughs, looking up at him. 

“Do not,” Mountain responds, shaking his head. He rolls his eyes, sighing. He brushes a stray strand of hair out of Dew’s face, holding back a laugh when Dew purposely bats his lashes and nods solemnly back at him.

“You do. It’s different, yeah. But you’re still you,” he offers. 

“Thanks,” Mountain says in a small voice. 

Dew gives him one last squeeze before pulling away and sitting down at the table. He smiles and waves his earth ghoul back over. “Come on, finish your tea. I’m sure Aether’ll be up soon, and I’m sure he’ll need no convincing to help you with the pain.”

#ficlet #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost fanfic #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #mountaindew #rated e for everyone!!

[ihearthes]

Christmas Thyme part 1

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 2665

‘Tis a week before Christmas, and just as I am preparing to twist the “Open” sign to its “Closed” side, the bell over the door jingles. Inwardly, I groan. Outwardly, I paste on my brightest smile as I pivot towards my (hopefully) final customer of a very long, very exhausting day. 

I freeze. 

Because standing there in the doorway of my boutique is Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles. You know. As It Was. Watermelon Sugar. Sex on a stick. That last one isn’t a song. Just a description. 

“Um, hi,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say, but then I quickly tack on a “How may I help you?” 

His eyebrows draw downwards, and he looks around at the merchandise which, after a long day of Saturday sales in the last few frantic days before the most important gift-buying holiday of the year, is scattered everywhere. 

I’ve no idea if I want him to decide to leave immediately or if I should beg him to stay and shop. I do neither. 

But only because I spot another person on the street outside, pointing at one of the most sought after and most frequently purchased soy candles. She and her friend appear to be heading towards the door, so I summon the last of my energy and lunge for the door ahead of them, pulling the shade while simultaneously rotating the lock. My panicked movements mean I jostle the popstar as he stands nearby. 

“Oops! I’m so sorry. I just…” 

“Are you open or closed?” He asks, worry etched on his forehead where it peeks out underneath his black beanie. I take him in, recognising his face instantly. With a pair of joggers, he wears a black Pleasing crewneck, and I’m briefly jealous of how cosy it looks. I wouldn’t mind snuggling close – to the crewneck, of course. 

I am, after all, a competent businesswoman. Pfft. Okay, I’m trying to be one. 

“We’re closed now, but if you don’t have much to shop for, you’re welcome to look around while I tidy up in preparation for Tuesday’s maniacal clientele. 

He grunts, and I assume it’s affirmation that he’d like to look around, so I nod. “Are you looking for something in particular? Or shopping for a certain someone?” Wracking my brain, I attempt to recall if he’s currently dating anyone, but I’ve no idea. Since opening up my pop up last month, I’d not had time to do much more than work daily until exhaustion forces me to crawl into bed with a heating pad on my back and warm peppermint compresses on my feet. 

“Just looking…” He smiles, and I’m nearly blinded by the left dimple. 

Holy shit. No wonder he’s so popular. 

I have the silly idea that I should sniff him. It would be easy to make a tonne of money from bottling his scent and selling it. Then I would have enough money to set up a permanent shop to sell my organic candles, soaps, and lotions. 

Resisting only because I have managed to maintain some self-respect after being yelled at and cursed at by customers all day long, I decide to provide him some privacy. 

“Absolutely. Let me know if you have any questions.” 

He nods once, and I swear my insides melt into a puddle like Frosty the Snowman when the sun has come out. 

Stepping to the counter, I fiddle with the sound system, turning off the grating holiday tunes that permeate the atmosphere this time of year and sliding instead into some soothing jazz from Alfa Mist. As soon as the first song starts playing, Harry’s head whips around and he stares in my direction. 

“Excellent choice.” His voice is gravelly and kind with a bit of surprise in it. 

“It’s the kind of music I prefer,” I shrug, not knowing what else to say. 

“Me too.” 

It’s such a surprising thing for him to say that I do my own double take, but he’s returned already to smelling the candles on the wall display. 

Shrugging, I move to the first shelves to the right of the register, straightening products, and making mental notes of what I need to restock. When I move to the next set of shelves, though, it’s clear that a mental note isn’t going to be of any help. There are simply too many hand lotions, soaps, and other products that need to be replaced. Sighing, I move behind the counter again, withdrawing a pad of paper. Quickly, I jot down what I need to replace on the first two shelves. 

Turning my head, I see that Harry has barely finished sniffing one shelf of candles. “Um…” He glances up at my utterance. “...would you mind if I stepped into the back to grab some more stock?” 

“Whatever you need to do.” His voice is so silky that I could easily wear it and nothing else against my skin forever. 

In the small stockroom, I remove my shoes, wiggling my toes that have been screaming at me for the last two hours. Grabbing a basket I keep for just this purpose, I fill it with the items on my list before stepping back onto the main floor. The coolness of the tiles under my toes is soothing, and I sigh at the pleasure of it on my hot skin. Quickly, I restock the first two shelves, giving my feet a workout as I have to rise onto my toes multiple times. My knees also get to practise squatting so I can place items on the bottom shelf. 

After I slide my protesting feet back into my shoes, I sneak a peek to check on Harry. He’s moved on to the next set of shelves, opening the sample shampoos and smelling them one by one. 

At this rate, he’ll be here another hour at least. 

Surveying the third set of shelves, I jot down the merchandise I need to pull from the back for this one. It’s the shelf of eye compresses I’ve made that include differing herbs to soothe the skin around the eyes and quiet the mind. With a quick glance at Harry, I return to the storeroom, trying to recall where I’d placed the box holding more eye compresses. 

Spying it on a higher shelf, hiding behind a box of the scented rice neck pillows I’d designed to be heated and worn next to the skin, I stand on my tiptoes in order to reach. Just — one — more — inch — CRASH! Both boxes clatter to the ground, the sides splitting open on the box holding the neck pillows, and I sigh. 

“Are you okay?” 

His voice startles me, and I jump like that time I’d been forced to watch a horror movie by my previous boyfriend. The arsehole. 

Placing my hand on my chest to calm my pounding heart, I smile at where his head has emerged through the curtain separating the sales floor and stockroom. 

“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay. Just knocked off a couple of boxes.” 

“Shit. That looks annoying. Let me help.” He muscles his way past the curtain, assisting me by setting the box right side up. I locate the roll of packing tape I’d used earlier to package some items for a customer who wanted them delivered, handing the tape to Harry as he repairs the box. “I’m Harry.” His introduction is endearing, and I share my name too. 

“No one else working tonight?” His hushed tones do things to my body that are inappropriate for work. 

“No one else is working ever. It’s my shop, and I couldn’t afford to pay for help this year.” 

“Damn. How do you manage?” 

“Well, I take it slow on nights like this with the restocking and tidying because I know I’ll get the next two days to soak my feet and relax.”

“But how do you do it during the day with all the customers?” 

“I think that’s clear from the state of the front. I muddle through.” My shrug is intended to communicate that there’s no real answer to that question. 

“Can I help?” 

“YOU?” I yelp, clamping both hands over my mouth at my shriek. 

“Why not me?” 

“Um, cause you’re Harry Styles.” 

When he smiles this time, his eye crinkles come into focus, and I’m lost in him. I could stare at those crows’ feet all night, I think. 

“And that means I can’t help?” 

“It means that you probably have plenty of plans that don’t include stocking shelves.” 

“Hmmm… tonight, I actually do not have plans. My sister and I were supposed to shop for our mum, and then my sister ended up ill, so…” Trailing off, he raises both hands to the side in imitation of a shrug. “You can pay me by helping me choose gifts for my mum and my sister. And my manager’s wife. And maybe the wives of my friends.” 

“That’s silly. I’d help you with that for free.” 

“Ah, well then, you can take me out to dinner after we’re done.” 

My jaw drops. Dinner with Harry Styles? 

Is he asking me out on a date? 

“Just as repayment, right?” I ask. 

“For starters,” he smirks, and my panties become uncomfortable as I rub my legs together. “I’ll take these boxes out front.” Bending his knees, he picks up the box of neck pillows with the box of eye compresses on top. Striding through the curtain, he drops the boxes on the floor and immediately starts artfully arranging the merchandise. Occasionally, he brings a pillow to his nose and breathes in deeply. 

Mesmerised, I watch from the door to the store room. After a few minutes, he removes his coat, carefully draping it over the counter, smiling at me as I straighten the bottles of lotion on the table, ensuring that the rosemary mint doesn’t get mixed up with the rosemary thyme. It’s easy to get them confused as the labels are similar. 

“How long did it take you to prepare all of this?” Harry asks, his hand encompassing the entire shop. 

“All year. My dad –” I pause as emotion invades my throat, layering it with sorrow. Finally, I swallow, clearing the grief. “My dad was ill for the last couple of years, so I quit my job to move in and take care of him. I started growing the herbs in his garden. And then I needed something to do with all of the herbs I grew, so I started making soaps and selling them at the local farmer’s market. Demand was swift, and I’ve been expanding the line for the last eight months or so.” 

“That’s amazing!” His face has lit up like the Christmas tree that’s in the corner of the shop, and his grin takes over his entire countenance. “And how’s your dad doing now?” 

I wince. “He actually died in July.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

My watery smile hopefully conveys my gratitude. “He was ready to go. At least that’s what he told me. And I needed a project after his death to keep me busy while I cleaned out the house and prepared to sell it.” 

“Sell it? Why?” 

Moving to the next table, I straighten the bars of soap. Wiping a tear from my eye, I answer his question. “Too many memories. I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and now I’m the only one left in my immediate family. So when I’m in the house, all I can see are the people no longer with me.” 

“That must be hard.” His hand rests on my shoulder, and I’m startled because I hadn’t realised he’d approached. 

“It’s life. Lucky for me, I have my dreams to keep me going.” 

“Dreams of expanding beyond a popup shop at the holidays?” 

“Something like that,” I nod. 

“Sounds lovely. Listen, I’m done with these shelves, and those over there look pretty good. I, um, straightened them earlier when I was testing the product. Is there a broom so I can sweep up?” 

Astonished, I blink at him. “No. No. No. I draw the line at having a number one pop musician sweep my floor.” 

He giggles, his laugh growing until he’s slapping his knee, his full body moving with glee as he heartily releases his mirth. “So if I were the number one classical musician or number one jazz musician or number one country musician, you’d be okay with me cleaning the floor?”

Seeing the humour in my comment, I laugh along with him. “Okay. Okay. You’ve found me out. Only pop musicians aren’t allowed to sweep up. Everyone else is fair game.” 

Bopping me on the nose, he grins. “Good thing I’m not a number one pop musician tonight. I’m just a customer who is quite taken with your goods.” 

And the way he rakes his eyes over my body lets me know that he’s not talking about the merchandise on the shelves. 

Dammit. Why don’t I keep a pair of spare knickers in my bag in case I run into the handsomest man alive? Because the ones I’m wearing right now are ruined. 

Sticking his head through the curtain and peering into the back, he joyfully exclaims, “There it is!” Seconds later, he’s pushing the broom around the shop floor, and I am both pleased and appalled. 

Reluctant to let him do all the work, I watch him and squirm. Using the broom as a partner, he dances to the music, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes. 

“I remember when you couldn’t dance at all,” I reveal, then clamp my hands over my mouth at my rudeness. 

“Some would say I still can’t.” 

“Screw ‘em.” I grin. “Listen, I’m about to count up the money for a night deposit. Are you planning to pay with cash or credit?” 

Wincing, he bites his lip, resting his arm on top of the broom handle. “Oh yeah. I was having so much fun that I forgot I was here to shop.” He looks around at the merchandise. “You’re taking me out for dinner, right?” One eyebrow raises while the other stays in place. It’s a talent not many have. 

“I believe that was the deal in exchange for your labour.”

“Then let’s eat first. I can tell you about those I need to shop for, and you can decide what would be most fitting for each.” 

“Hmmm…” I tease, “Are you trying to get out of buying products from me?” 

“Nope,” he grins, stepping closer to me. “Trying to let you get to know me more.” 

“Who's to say I don’t already know everything about you?” 

“Ah, I see.” The expression on Harry’s face is smug. “You wanna have a quiz? Find out what exactly you know and don’t know?” 

“Sure,” I smile, “but somehow I’m not sure I trust you. You could easily say all of my answers are wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to contradict you.” 

“Let’s start. What colour are my eyes?” 

“Are you taking the piss? They’re green. That one’s easy ‘cause I can see them.” 

“Okay, okay. You got one right. What colour are my lips?” 

Which of course drags my eyes right to the body part in question. And they look lush. Soft. Slightly chapped, but not enough to keep me from… 

Shit. I’ve gotten lost in staring at his lips. 

“I didn’t hear your answer.” 

My tongue dips out to lick my own lips, and he steps closer, his eyes locked on my tongue. Shaking my head, I dart my gaze back to his eyes, and I can feel his breath on my cheek. Leaning forward, he reaches his arm to my left, and I briefly wonder if he’s going to wrap his arm around my waist and haul me to him for a snogging session. 

Which is when he grabs his coat from the counter. 

“Let’s count the money so you can make your deposit. I’m getting hungry.” 

Really? I'm experiencing a powerful thirst.

Author's note: Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please reblog. I know not everyone reblogs, but it really helps writers out.

READ PART 2 HERE

#harry styles #my writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles reader insert #original writing

[louwaffles]

It’s 2:30am

SUMMARY just bucky and y/n getting down and dirty after drinking; short drabble one shot; gender neutral!reader/gender not specified 

WARNING +18, NSFW, minors DNI unprotected sex, back-back breaking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, 

AUTHOR NOTE this is my first one shot, so if it sucks ass, i know and i’m sorry

“Buck, oh fuck. Right there, fuck!”

Nothing had ever felt more blissful than this. Not that hot-ass pizza you shoved down your throat an hours ago or the buzz three bottles of wine and a dozen shots gave you just before this. Not even bombing an active Hydra base beat the rush flowing through you. Nothing had felt better. The hands that grabbed at your waist with every thrust and the hot breathing on your skin was euphoric, but it was the metal hand snaking up your body that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Oh god- fuck . . . You feel so good for me. ” Bucky didn’t hold back his groans as he held himself inside you, pressing your hips closer to his. From your core, you could feel his dick twitch but felt resistance when you shimmied. A small laugh rushed past your lips feeling both his hands push your body deeper into the bed, “Don’t do that.”

“Why?” You were a breathless mess, but managed to say that word. Clouded with lust the longer he looked at you, all Bucky could do was press a kiss to your lips before slipping his metal hand around your neck. 

And not a second later did he thrust deeper into you. 

You couldn’t believe how big his cock was and how much space was left in your cunt. There was an ounce of pride in you that patted your shoulder for having the ability to hold Bucky’s dick in for so long, but it soon melted into a puddle when his tip collided with your g-spot. If you could, your body would have melted with your thoughts as you dropped your head onto the pillow. 

From above, a proud smile spread across Bucky’s lips, seeing your head and eyes roll back. It was because of him you were in such a mess. Because he held you in your place and commanded your movements with his (very deep) voice pleasure was delivered to both of you. 

After all you two had been through in the past week, this was one of the best ways to unwind. Someone had recommended the group to out for drinks, but those too battered to leave the compound opted for drinks at home. With the okay, whatever from Fury and assurance nothing would pop out in the night, everyone let themselves loose and drank to their hearts content. 

The night of endless shots began at 7pm. 

It was now 2:30am and the party was still going in your room, but only with two highly intoxicated, horny super soldiers. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby, hmm?” The low whisper in your ear shook everything in you. Bucky’s lips gently nibbled on your earlobe before tracing deep kisses across your jaw to your lips. “Do you want more, baby? Do you want me to fill you up even more?”

“Please...” You barely breathed out, your eyes clenching at his cock moving through your wet hole. If you opened to even take a peek at his steel-gray gaze, you would have released yourself right then and there. 

“Just please fuck me.”

The sweet whisper of your voice sent Bucky’s brain into overdrive and not a second later did his hips slam into yours. Successive thrusts, each harder than the next, ricocheted from your bodies to sound around the room. The soft jazz you put on to settle the mood barely registered in your ears. Instead, Bucky’s heavy breathing, curses, and praises to you flooded all your sense. Still coolest thing in the hot room, his metal hand slid down your body to grope your chest while his flesh hand interlocked yours above your head. 

“Look at me, Y/N.” You did as you were told and stared into Bucky’s hooded stare. Even in the dark, you felt yourself get lost in his steel gaze and wished to be consumed by him. His lips opened to speak, but instead moans fell when your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, forcing him deeper into you. 

“Look at me, Buck.” His eyes focused on you at your command. 

A sly grin cracked on your face when you took his face in your free hand and kissed him. His tongue swirled around yours immediately and with the way he crashed himself into both your lips, you knew he was close. Bucky’s thrusts were less focused, messy as they slammed into you, and quickened faster than before. It was inevitable you knew his body before he released himself--the past four rounds gave you more than one chance. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re tight.” His eyes clenched while his forehead rested against yours, your breathes blending into one. You squeezed yourself around his cock with the last of your energy, but when his hands grasped your waist and slammed your waist into his, you let yourself and fall apart just as he did. Bucky’s cock twitching in your cunt only spurred out your release faster. 

Left in a moaning mess whilst he rode out his blissful high, you forced your chest to rise and fall at a calmer rate while Bucky let his body fall next to you. Reaching for the floor, a discarded rag fortunately stolen from the dinner was used to wipe your body. Taking care of each of your limbs, the former assassin looked at you as if you were the most priceless ornament in the world. And you were. From the sole of your feet to the nape of your neck, Bucky wiped the sweat he could see before covering your bodies with the discarded sheets. It neither mattered you both were naked or on the cusp of another round, five was enough for now. 

The lack of words didn’t bother you as your body molded perfectly into Bucky’s larger frame. Just being in his presence and knowing no one else had his attention sent butterflies wildly into your stomach. Same went for him. Bucky was never one of much words, but knowing you were safe in his arms and he was snaked around you made him the best man on earth. 

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes smut one shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x gn!reader #avengers one shot #marvel one shot #bucky barnes #bucky barnes 18+

[chaotic-orphan]

June of Doom, Day Twenty-nine:

It’s really not that big of a deal: bruises // secrets // acceptance

CW: bruises, implied abuse, abuse of power, unaware victim, unaccepting victim, beating, aftermath of beating, concerned caretaker, extreme whumper, gaslighting, blood, punishment, unfair treatment of Whumpee,

Extremely unedited, i am currently s-i-c-k… so I wrote it and didn’t want to tag but now I have time to tag, yaaayyyy

P.s. if there’s any tags I missed please tell me my brain is dying <3

*~*~*~*~*

It was two pathetic knocks on Villain’s door that roused them from sleep. Followed by another weak one and then there was a heavy thud against their door. Villain was out of bed after the first knock, bare feet hitting hard wood and padding out to the living room in their apartment. They grabbed their gun from table beside the door when they heard the thud and peeked out the peephole into the empty stairwell. They clicked the safety off and quietly drew back the hammer.

Frowning, they left the chain lock on the slider and unlocked the door, positioning themselves into the crook of the opening and pulling the door open. It flung open and Villain aimed the barrel at the floor to the figure slumped there.

A very bloody Hero.

Villain blinked back the sleep in their eyes, but they were right the first time. They cursed and closed the door again, sliding the chain off the latch and opening it again. They clicked the hammer back, put the safety on their gun and placed it on the table again before bending down to their crumbled Hero.

“Hero? Hey, Hero,” Villain said, snapping their fingers in front of Hero’s eyes. They got a minuscule moan in reply and Villain cursed to themselves. They put an arm around Hero’s shoulders, the other under Hero’s knees and hoisted them up.

Hero’s eyes sprung open, gasping cradling their side and hunching in on themselves. “Hey! Hey, Hero. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Villain. I’m just taking you inside, okay?”

“V—Villain, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered against Villain’s chest and Villain shushed them as they closed the door to their apartment. Trying to pretend that Hero’s ragged breathing wasn’t pulling at every heartstring, and gently lay Hero on their couch. “No! No, I’m bleeding… the couch… it’ll— agh, s-stain,” Hero protested but Villain put a firm hand on Hero’s shoulder to keep them lying down.

“I can clean the couch, Hero,” said Villain softly. “It’s really not that big of a deal. You’re more important.”

Hero opened their mouth to protest again, but before any words could come, Hero grimaced, clenching their teeth as they held their side, fingers digging into their waist.

“I’ll get ice,” Villain said after a quick once over. Hero’s clothes weren’t bloody (except from the obvious blood dripping down Hero’s forehead and nose) but the rest was most likely some bad bruising. Villain stood and walked around the couch into the kitchen, calling back to Hero. “Tell me what happened.”

Villain looked into the freezer and only saw a half empty tub of vanilla ice cream and three gel ice packs. Villain took the ice packs, leaving the ice cream a shut the door. They stopped at the sink on the way back, wetting a clean towel and walking to Hero who was still trying to sit up.

“Stay still,” Villain said, “you’re obviously hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Hero denied, but recanted after the deadpan stare from Villain. “Okay. I’m not fine.”

“Can I take your jacket off?” Villain asked, setting everything down on the coffee table.

Hero smiled. “So forward of you Villain.”

Villain smiled back. “You’re bleeding on my couch, Hero, I think we’re past the dinner date phase.”

“Fair enough,” Hero laughed, then stopped with a wince. Villain set their jaw and stood, trying to remove Hero’s jacket as gently as possible.

Hero’s arms were always a shock to Villain. Littered with so many different scars and bruises and burns at any give time, and Hero used them as if they weren’t damaged at all. Continued with their life as if they didn’t even notice they were hurt. Sometimes Villain wondered if Hero even felt the pain anymore, and was kind enough to not ask about the several deepest cuts on Hero’s wrist.

There were certain lines they never crossed with Hero. Some secrets that were still their own… despite the recent blurring of lines between friendship and enemies Hero and Villain had been towing.

“What happened?” Villain asked again, breaking the gel ice pack and handing it to Hero. Hero took it gladly, pressing it against their abdomen while Villain cracked another to activate it and glanced up at Hero for permission to help them.

“My… my ribs, I can—“

“I can too,” Villain told them and Hero bit their lip before nodding and pointing at the sorest spot. When Villain pressed the ice pack to it Hero jerked away, hissing sharply.

“Villain. Villain. Wait— ow! Ow! Ow! Okay. Okay! We switch, okay?” Hero howled, dropping the ice pack on their abdomen and grabbing the one by their ribs with the opposite hand. Tears were in their eyes, so Villain didn’t fight them on their pain. A shaky hand went over Villain’s and Hero said: “it’s okay. I got it.”

So Villain let go and sat back on the coffee table, clasping their hands between their thighs and levelling Hero with a pointed stare.

“Superhero put me on 1st tonight,” Hero began. 1st being the rich quarter of the city with the banks and the businesses and the Hero tower as it’s shining jewel. “I told them I knew the dregs better but they refused, put Other Hero there instead,” Hero grumbled and Villain had to smile at the disdain colouring Hero’s voice.

Other Hero was a fanciful prick at best of times and dangerously incompetent at their worst. Which was all the time.

“So I went on patrol on 1st, and Other Villain appeared for the first time in two months since they blew the warehouse at the docks,” Hero told them and Villain nodded, remembering the burns on Hero’s arms after they rushed in headfirst to save a ship worker. “I reported it and Superhero told me to give chase so I did.”

“Did other Villain do this to you?” Villain asked, voice hard, eyes narrowing. Hero shook their head, and a drop of blood fell onto their cheek. Villain reached forward with the wet towel and brushed it away. Hero’s eyes widened marginally as they glanced at Villain’s gentle hand, then to Villain’s face.

Villain found Hero’s eyes and their breath caught in their throat at the pure openness of Hero. They remembered reading somewhere that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and if so, then Hero was the best person Villain had ever known.

“Did Other Villain—“ Villain began again, but Hero smiled a little sadly and said: “no.”

“No, they got away. Fled into sixth, but I’m pretty sure I stopped whatever destructive plan they had for the night so that’s a bonus at least.”

Villain frowned as they wiped the blood from Hero’s upper lip and leaned back on the coffee table. “So who did this to you?”

Hero didn’t say anything. Though they did gasp when the wet towel touched the bruise on their cheekbone. Villain wiped at the small cut in the centre of it, while Hero avoided any and all eye contact.

Villain nodded silently, pursing their lips slightly and sitting back on the coffee table again. They grabbed the spare icepack and stood, walking to the kitchen.

“Do you like vanilla ice cream?” Villain asked, pausing at the doorframe and glancing back at Hero. Hero peeked over the couch with confused eyes.

“What?”

“I have a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. You want some?”

Hero let out a short huff of laughter. “Umm. Sure.”

“Okay then.”

Villain got to work. They put the bloody towel into the sink, the last ice pack into the freezer and took the tub of vanilla out. They grabbed two spoons and walked back to Hero, sitting down again on the coffee table and opening the tub with a swift and comforting clack clack clack to fill the silence.

Hero gestured with their elbows uselessly and Villain looked down at the spoon in their hand, then back to Hero’s occupied hands pressing the ice packs to their abs and ribs. Villain looked back at the spoon, then dug it into the ice cream and got a decent sized scoop before bringing the spoon to Hero’s closed lips.

Hero laughed then winced, and said: “you’re going to feed me?”

Villain threw their free hand in the air, a helpless gesture. “If you don’t eat it it’ll melt and you’ll be wearing it.”

“Okay,” Hero said with a smile and opened their mouth wide enough for Villain to put the spoon into Hero’s mouth. Villain swallowed as if they were the one eating ice cream, and drew it back out, going back to get another scoop.

They raised it again and Hero shook their head with that same smile that made something warm flutter in Villain’s chest and said: “no, no. You now.”

Villain glanced at the spoon, the same one Hero had just eaten off, and put it in their mouth. Hero’s eyes crinkled at the sides when they rested their head back against the arm rest of the couch.

Then their expression melted into one of sadness, their eyes going to the ceiling. They bit their cheek, then said so quietly Villain nearly missed it:

“Superhero did this,” they said and Villain paused mid scoop. Their head snapped to Hero who was still staring at the ceiling. “When I reported that Other Villain fell out of my jurisdiction and handed it to Other Other Hero in 6th, Superhero called me to their office. So I went, knowing I was going to be punished for letting them—“

“Punished?” Villain repeated, tightening their grip on the spoon in the ice cream.

Hero just nodded, their throat bobbing as they swallowed hard.

“Punished for— for what?!” Villain demanded hotly.

Hero just kept staring at the ceiling.

“For not catching Other Villain. I should have been faster. Should have been better as Superhero’s protégé,” Hero spat the last word. “I let them down. Embarrassed them by being useless. So I get punished for letting them go.”

“You didn’t let them go!” Villain protested, slamming the tub of ice cream onto the coffee table. Hero finally — finally — looked at them. “They left your jurisdiction! It was another Hero’s job to catch them.”

“To pick up my slack—“

“No!” Villain yelled, and Hero flinched. Villain let out a long sigh, running their hands through their hair to try and calm down. This was barbaric, how could Hero be so okay with this? This treatment? Villain’s eyes widened at the realisation, shock colouring their voice as they whispered: “it’s not the first time, is it?”

Hero’s eyes shuttered close, letting out a shaky breath of their own. That was all the confirmation Villain needed.

“Fuck. Fuck! Hero! How long? How long have they been beating you?”

“It was apart of my training,” Hero confessed. “It wasn’t physical punishments at first… they just told me to do extra reps of push-ups, pull-ups, extra ten minutes on the treadmill. To make me stronger, make me fast, build my stamina. Then one day I couldn’t bench the weight Superhero gave me and— and I told them it was too much…”

“Hero,” Villain whispered, reaching forward and putting their hand over Hero’s on their abs. They just needed to touch them, to show them that they were they for them.

Hero shook their head, tears streaming down their cheeks as they continued: “they… they spotted the weight and told me to put my knuckles back on my collarbones so I did, while Superhero put an extra weight on either side of the bar… I was so scared that I just lay there, waiting…

Then Superhero put the bar back down on my hands and it crushed me. I tried to push it up, but I couldn’t, it was too heavy, too heavy for me and the more it stayed there the harder it got to breathe and my whole body was shaking… Superhero just watched me from above, this look of utter… utter disgust. I was trying to make them proud, and I was disappointed them no matter what I did… they left me there until I was able to push the bar up myself and get myself out and when I did they were so proud.”

Hero cut themselves off with a sudden burst of sobs and Villain tightened their hand on Hero’s. They felt so… so useless. How do you react to that? How you do even begin comforting someone who’s been through that.

“That was only the beginning,” Hero sniffed, “after that Superhero started beating me personally, called it sparring. Training, to make me better before my debut. To make me unstoppable. And I still let them down to this day.”

The look Hero gave Villain shook Villain to their core. The desperation on their gear stained face, the puffiness of their eyes and the steeled determination behind them.

“I just want to be good, Villain. I just want to do good and make them happy, but I’m useless. I’m pathetic. I can’t even stop one villain! I deserve this. I deserve this, I don’t deserve your kindness,” Hero said sniffing, pushing Villain’s hand away and sitting up with a grunt of pain. Villain tried to get them to lay back down again but Hero held up a hand and said: “don’t.”

“Hero, please. Let me help you. Superhero is psychopathic! You don’t deserve to be treated like that! Please, please just— just stay the night. We can talk more in the morning, okay? Not even about this is you like.”

“No Villain, I need to—“ Hero winced as they put their feet on the ground. Villain lunged to catch them and right them again.

Villain took Hero’s chin in their hand and tilted their head up to look at them. Hero was breathing heavy from the sudden exertion and stabbing pain.

“You know what Superhero is doing is wrong. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come here, Hero,” Villain said softly, raising their other hand to Hero’s cheek and stroking a thumb under Hero’s eye, catching a stray tear that was about to fall. “You wouldn’t have come to let me help you, so let me help. I won’t ask again, I’ll just keep you here against your will. So please, stay. Just for tonight.”

Hero leaned into Villain’s hand, their soft, gentle touch and let out a sigh of defeat. “Okay,” Hero whispered and Villain smiled.

They reached a hand down and helped Hero to their feet. “Wait, Villain—“

“You’re sleeping on the bed, I’ll grab the couch.”

“No, agh, Villain—“

“No arguing Hero, I won’t change my mind.”

Hero was tired, so they walked with Villain to the bedroom and allowed themselves to be taken care of, for just one night.

#June of doom #writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #writing prompt #writing #hero villain prompt #prompt challenge #hero x villain #villain x hero #villain caretaker #hero whumpee #superhero whumper #whump writing #Whump Drabble #whumpblr #whump #emotional whump #whump scenario #whumpee #implied Whump #past Whump #bruises #hurt/comfort #on this blog? #crazy #orphan writing

[yesitsmewhataboutit]

Hello, um for the kink event, can i possibly get a degration kink w/ bakugou?? if not then all's good. Keep up the great work ^^

»——⍟——««A/n: sorry this took so long

Warnings⚠️: use of “slut” and “whore”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You’re not one to lose your temper or get excessively upset. You never really had time to since you’re always extinguishing Katsuki’s rage.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t have your moments. After a while even you get fed up and can’t take it anymore.

That stupid hero. She comes from America and she thinks she’s so amazing. And then she has the nerve to flirt with your husband. Who does she think she is?

You’re fuming, livid, the type of mad that Katsuki gets and then rails your brains out to blow off the steam.

It works for him, it’ll work for you.

“That slut.” Words fall from your mouth like a stream as you bounce on Katsuki’s cock. “S-she thinks she’s so great. Coming int-to my agency,” you stutter every now and then, ranting and upset but continuing to bounce.

Your rhythm is fast, Katsuki was slightly surprised by how rough you were, how fast you took charge and started riding him. He wraps his hands around your waist, not to take control, but to make sure you’re stable as you ride his cock, not wanting it to slip out and throw you off rhythm.

“Ugh!” you groan, “I hate her! A-and then she goes after you. I gave h-her one warning. Next time I-I’ll punch her. I will make a scene i-in front of everyone.”

Katsuki pays attention to what you’re saying, he can’t help but listen to it. You never talked to people like that, you never were so upset that he could almost see the anger oozing out of you.

Seeing you panting above him, curses and anger falling from your mouth, it’s a turn on.

He’s listening, and so is his cock. It’s twitching and throbbing, and he’s closing to cumming. He doesn’t have time to say anything before you sputter on. You pant, “That whore! She wants you, she wants you bad. But she can’t have you. You’re mine.”

That was it. That did it. Katsuki tried hard to hold back the sinful noise that was leaving his mouth. He was able to stop it, but it was already to late to where you heard it. It sounded like a groan, but also like a whimper, plus the touch of desperation as he tries hard not to cum.

All to no avail, and as you bounce you suddenly feel the familiar feeling of his cum shooting inside you, painting your walls as you focus to look at him, seeing the redness in his face and the way he strains.

A smirk grows across your lips.

You lean down and grab his chin, wanting his attention. His eyes peek open at you as he pants to catch his breath.

“What? You like that? You like when I get mad?”

“I-“

You interrupt. “When I talk mean?” You start moving your hips, grinding on him, feeling his cock continue to twitch. “You want me to talk like that to you? To say that you’re mine. You’re my whore.”

You don’t miss how his eyes roll back, his hips doing a sudden buck into you, his cock already hardened again. Yeah, you could have fun with this.

Kink Event - closed

#katsuki bakugo smut #y/n x bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki smut #katsuki smut #bakugo smut #bakugo katsuki

[beomgyw]

⋆⁺₊⋆☀︎⋆⁺⋆MY GIRL⋆⁺⋆☀︎⋆⁺₊⋆

you chose to stay home

if you're new here, go back to the beginning !!

after bidding goodnight to huening kai, who was in a pretty hilarious state of tipsiness, you tackled the aftermath of the mess you both left behind. as you're hustling to tidy up, your phone starts ringing non-stop, slicing through the peace of the house. Thanks to the soju you've been sipping, your guard's down, and you don't immediately clock how risky it might be to pick up a call from an unknown number.

"hey pretty girl..." The voice on the other end is unmistakable, even if you wish it weren't. jintaek. You roll your eyes and pull the phone away from your face, giving yourself a moment to mutter every curse word you know before reluctantly bringing it back to your ear.

"hm, yeah?" you answer cautiously.

"it's jintaek… just wanted to give you a heads up about this party tonight. thought we could hang out there…"

"tonight?" you stall, racking your brain for an excuse. "i'm really sorry but…"

"no buts, pretty girl. come on, i can swing by to pick you up… just give me your address."

sure, and my social security number too. "listen, Jintaek, it's getting late and I was just getting ready for bed… i'd have to get dressed…"

"you trying to play hard to get?" he asks. "don't worry about it, i'll give you enough time to doll yourself up for me…"

"i really can't, jintaek... sorry–"

"i'm not taking no for an answer," he interrupts, his tone suddenly firm. "if you hang up, imma keep calling you. i know we're meant to be..."

you resist the urge to hurl your phone across the room in frustration. fucking brick wall of a dude. as you start to run out of excuses, the doorbell's chime cut through the tension like a savior. "wait a second, will you? the door just rang..." you say hastily, phone still glued to your ear.

you open the door, and there he is. he got hot during our senior year. he's mellowed out since then. his deep brown eyes catch the light, bangs brushing softly over his eyebrows, pretty lips. this is isn't a normal type of hot. it´s manhwa character hot, or promising young actor hot, or disney prince kind of of. definitely not beomgyu, that one shy kid from middle school.

he's standing there, staring at you like he's just seen a ghost, eyes wide with surprise.  you figure he has recognised you.

"uh... hii?" you say.

"hi," he breathes out.

from the other end of the line, jintaek's voice chimes in, "you got a boy over? you're not trying to make me jealous, are you, baby girl?"

"you don't even know my name, jintaek," you retort.

at this, beomgyu's dumbfounded expression grows even wider. mouth hanging open, he points at your phone as if to ask; "is that the park jintaek?"

you nod, irritation clear on your face, and gesture for Beomgyu to come inside. "oh, uh, i can… i can wait if you're busy, come later or something. i came for huening, anyway, so…"

but you're not really listening; you're too busy explaining to jintaek that you have no intention of leaving your house, and that it definitely doesn't mean you're inviting him over.

beomgyu steps in all awkward-like, not sure where to plop himself or if he should even sit down. you catch him sneaking peeks in your direction, but he quickly looks away whenever your eyes meet. you nod towards one of the armchairs, silently telling him to take a load off, trying to keep your cool despite jintaek blabbering away in your ear, being a total goofball. beomgyu sits down, but his fingers can't seem to sit still, tapping nervously against his knees.

tou pace around, responding to jintaek with nothing more than grunts and short replies as he rambles on about how he's the ultimate boyfriend material and the life of the party, throwing in pet names like "princess" that make you want to roll your eyes into another dimension. you've endured his bragging before, but this time it's like he's cranked it up to eleven. and with beomgyu there, it's just adding a whole new layer of awkward to the mix.

you try to explain to beomgyu what's going on, but every time your face separates from the phone in the slightest, jintaek throws another question your way, dragging your attention back to the call. until you've had enough, that is. you stride over to beomgyu and plunk the phone down on the coffee table, putting jintaek on speaker. beomgyu raises an eyebrow and you gesture for him to hold on for a sec.

"...come on, i'll treat you right. let me convince you," jintaek says, launching into a monologue that's been running for the past ten minutes.

"go on, convince me," you reply, shooting a look at beomgyu, who shoots back an amused grin.

from then on, the both of you listen to jintaek trying to convince you to go with him to a party, saying that he'll treat you right, that he'll make you feel good and getting cornier by the second. and as jintaek goes on and on praising himself, you discover that enduring his blabbering is more fun when there's someone with you to laugh at him. the more he speaks, the cringier he gets, and the more beomgyu and you struggle to keep from bursting into laughter.

that's when Jintaek decides to step his game, absolutely crossing the line while at it. "come on, grant me that wish, baby girl. can't get you out of my head," he says. "getting hard just from thinking about you... bet you give good head. quiet girls always do."

embarrassment starts creeping up your cheeks. you're totally mortified because, well, you have agues. but then beomgyu shoots you this look, like he's silently asking if he can handle the situation. he curls his fingers, signaling for you to pass him the phone.

beomgyu clears his throat, leaning in closer to the receiver. at first, you're puzzled, wondering what he's scheming, but it all clicks the moment he starts to speak.

"yo," he says, lowering his voice as deep as it can go, and you escape a dry laugh. "shhh," he signals to you, fighting back his own chuckles. "who the hell is this and why are you talking to my girl?" he says into the phone.

the line falls silent and you cover your mouth with your hands. partly to stifle the laughter threatening to burst out and partly out of surprise. beomgyu had actually managed to shut jintaek up.

"what do you mean your girl?" jintaek finally responds, but the confidence in his voice seems to waver.

"you better quit trying to contact my girlfriend, dumbass, or i'll find you break your legs," beomgyu shots back, the laughter nearly bubbling over before he managed to deliver the line with a straight face.

"me? your whore girlfriend is the one who gave me her phone. she's been after me, man, you've got a cock warmer, not a woman," jintaek retorts, causing beomgyu's jaw to drop in disbelief. "lying bitch!" he mouths to you.

clearing his throat once more, beomgyu slips back into character. "what did you just say about my girl? you're fucking dead, you hear me? dead." he says. jintaek hungs up, and both of you erupt into laughter.

"he was so quick to throw me under the bus, i can't believe it!" you exclaim between laughs.

"he's a piece of shit, he really is," he agrees, shaking his head.

but the laughter fades into an uncomfortable silence, you suddenly realising the oddity of the situation. here you are, standing in your own living room, with someone you clearly know but haven't properly acknowledged. "so, anyway... hi?" you venture, breaking the quiet.

"uh, yeah. hi," he responds, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "i guess you recognized me, otherwise you wouldn't have just let me waltz into your house," he quips.

"yeah, well, i did recognize you," you say. "yunjin said some things that really made me... uh, pin you down. but, uh, what are you doing here?"

he tilts his head, a grin playing on his lips. "oh, i was hoping to drag kai along to this... well, let's call it a spontaneous hangout."

you share a knowing chuckle. "well, sorry to burst your bubble, but kai's completely knocked out. soju got the best of him."

"ah, figures. he can´t hold his liquor," he remarks with a shake of his head. "but it´s still honors him, when he wasn't answering to my texts i thought he would've gone to be already like the toddler he is."

"um, yeah, well…" you begin, a hint of uncertainty creeping in as you assess the scene. You're not exactly keen on him leaving, but there's this nagging feeling that maybe he's expecting you to set him free after keeping him hostage during the jintaek situation. "have fun at the party," you say, and he reads it as a polite send-off.

"oh, sure… totally," he responds, his cheeks flushed. "i'm sorry, you probably wanna go sleep or… yeah, i'm probably being a nuisance right now, sorry." his voice trails off, almost lost amidst the shuffle of his own thoughts.

"no! what? what? no," you hurriedly interject. "i just thought maybe you'd prefer heading off to your party instead of sticking around here," you stumble over your words, feeling a bit flustered. "b-but it's cool, you know… jintaek already ruined my night, so anyone's company is an improvement. seriously, it's all good. you're good."

"oh, cool, 'cause i was actually having a good time," he responds, his words bringing a small smile to your lips.

"i've got some soju, if you wanna… hang out for a bit longer," you offer.

"i'd like that," he says with a nod, a genuine warmth in his tone.

as you stroll to the kitchen to grab the bottle, then back to the living room, you find him all sprawled out on the couch, taking up more space than necessary. you take it as a positive sign.

"why did jintaek have your number, anyway?" beomgyu questions, eyeing you as you pour him a shot.

you squirm a bit, feeling uneasy. "oh, i bumped into him on the train on my way here... and he was just so insistent. i tried giving him a fake one, but he wasn't buying it. it's a bit of a long story."

"he didn't recognize you, did he?" Beomgyu probes.

"no," you admit, feeling a twinge of discomfort. changing is just awkward. the idea that this beomgyu sitting right here knew you at your lowest makes you cringe. "but i'm not sure if him not recognising me is for the better. i mean, when is he more of a nightmare: when he's bullying you or when he's chasing after you?"

"yeah... look, i'm probably preaching to the choir, but keep your guard up around jintaek. messing with him earlier was kinda cute and all, but he's not someone to take lightly... you don't want him fixating on you."

you nod slowly, recalling taehyun's serious warning as well. "yeah... i've been told"

beomgyu pauses, gazing down at his fingers for a moment before he speaks up again. "you know, i always thought you were cool. all through middle school," he says, his fingers fidgeting nervously. "i'm sorry nobody else saw that. It sucks, feeling so powerless… and getting picked on all the time. i should've stood up, done something but i was too shy. it sounds kinda shallow, but that's just how i feel."

you offer him a reassuring smile. "they would've targeted you too. just like what happened to kai," you say, and your words keep coming out, fueled by the soju. "actually, the worst part wasn't even the bullying. it was everything that came after, how it changed me. i spent the rest of my life trying to prove to everyone that i was cool and smart and not the kind of person who should bullied. but it broke me, all that work... striving for nothing. what good did it do? one run-in with jintaek and suddenly, i felt small and helpless, like i was back to being a twelve-year-old girl again."

he locks eyes with you. "hey, promise me one thing." he says. "if he's bothers you anytime again, give me a call. i'll have him know no one messes with my girl,"

"hum?" you blink, cheeks turning red.

"i mean– like in the bit we did on him," he rushed to clarify. "i meant... like the bit. pretend boyfriend... um... the pretend... yes. so... yeah." the air between us thickens with embarrassment, until he says. "anyway, i should get going. i've got work tomorrow," he suddenly announces, getting up from his seat.

"yeah, same here."

"oh, you got a job? where at?" he asks with sudden interest.

"just this bookstore near wavecrest beach..." you reply, noticing his face light up for reasons unknown to you.

"cool, that's cool! you gotta grab your coffee at the cuppa corner," he says with a sparkle in his eye. "they make the best one around."

"i will," you respond. "oh, by the way... not trying to pry, just curious... what brought you here in the first place?"

he tilts his head, a grin playing on his lips as he gestures towards his car parked outside. "oh, I was hoping to drag kai along to this... well, let's call it a spontaneous hangout."

you share a knowing chuckle. "well, he's completely knocked out. soju got the best of him."

his laughter fills the hallway, and you stare at him with a fool's smile. you think he's even more handsome when he's laughing. "it´s alright. i'll catch him next time," he says with a shrug, a twinkle in his eye.

"well, it was nice talking to you." you say.

"yeah, likewise. sleep well," he smiles, already making his way towards his car. there's a fleeting moment where he seems like he wants to say more, but he ultimately decides against it.

so that just happened.

so that just happened. you're gonna go to bed thinking of beomgyu, but you better fall asleep; first day of work tomorrow !!

(coming soon...)

#txt fic #txt beomgyu #txt yeonjun #multichoice #txt angst #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu fic #txt #beomgyu angst #tomorrow x together #txt fluff #beomgyu fluff #txt headcanons #txt smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x y/n #yeonjun #blue crush