#but it is all one sided and it honestly feels like i'm burning and choking on glass. i just want this situation to be resolved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyseokmins · 1 year

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size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow — but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression.

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you."

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?"

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…"

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows?

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs.

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression.

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him.

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together.

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you.

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick!

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man.

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!"

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now.

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips.

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure.

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it.

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?"

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!"

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier.

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly?

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in.

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood.

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore.

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care.

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future.

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth.

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you.

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall.

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will."

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face.

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt.

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight.

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face.

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it.

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material.

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle.

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy."

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate.

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips.

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength.

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!"

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it.

You're honestly a little offended.

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock.

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot.

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible.

"Good thing I'm flexible."

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut."

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — "

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall.

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue.

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core.

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal.

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you.

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays.

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring.

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion.

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter. After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

#ez.creates #lee chan smut #svthub #svt smut #seventeen smut #dino smut #kpop smut #smut #nana 🦕#ez.mootz #svt.smut #3k 🎆

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irisintheafterglow · 11 days

Note

Hey there!

Saw your requests were open (if it isnt,just ignore this)

But i just love your satoru x reader and co parenting megumi????and i would KILL to see like, something bad happening to reader (like a mission going wrong,she passing out or getting sick or all) and boys just panicking cause satoru loves reader,and megumi sees her as his mother???

Sorry,im a sucker for hurt/comfort trope

Lots of love!!! you're amazing!

aww this is so cute, thank you for the request anon <3 wrote it as sick fic instead of injury since i,,,, have written like 3 things with that trope recently so let's do a fluffy sick fic instead lol. hope you like it :))

cw/tags: established relationship (pet names babe, baby, sweetheart), gn!reader, some explicit language, mention of eating

"the kid thinks you're gonna die," your boyfriend says as he enters your room, setting a grocery bag on your desk and digging around for the bottle of orange juice. "you're starting to worry me too, honestly."

"i'm not gonna die, babe; i think it's just the flu," you groan, propping yourself on an elbow and attempting to sit up. you're unsuccessful, the throbbing in your head and the chills in your arms too overwhelming. you fall back against the pillow with a less-than-ceremonial thump. satoru crouches in front of you, eyebrows drawn and forehead wrinkled in concern. he pulls down his blindfold and you're met with the bright blue eyes you loved so much.

"yep. looks like you're dying soon," he declares with a curt nod and you scoff, a chuckle turning into an aggressive fit of coughing. satoru is lightning-quick, grabbing a new bottle of water and snapping off the cap before holding it up to your lips. "here, drink." you push his hands away, wordlessly insisting that you can drink on your own while still hacking relentlessly. "nuh-uh, just let me help you." with a frown, you let him tilt the bottle toward you and take a few careful sips. "you are frustratingly stubborn," he sighs.

"i have to be if i need to deal with you all the time," you joke hoarsely, sips of water becoming gulps.

"yeah, but you love me for it," he finishes and you agree with a shrug. "easy, there," he warns as you keep downing the water. "don't want you choking again."

"i'm fine, satoru."

"you've been working yourself too much, you know."

"hypocrite," you counter and he frowns, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. you were right, even though he didn't want to admit it. satoru was always the first one to say that someone was working too hard, just to take the burden for himself. it was a red flag, you said a few weeks ago over convenience store sushi; you also noted his 'concerningly inflated ego, lack of spatial awareness, and general disinterest in things that could be momentarily unpleasant.' you'd finished it, though, with a long-winded comment about how his red flags, in all their scarlet glory, made satoru himself. maybe it was just his melodrama, but he'd cut off his hand if it meant you were able to joke like that again.

"i'm serious. i think your body's shutting down because-"

"because i've been away too long, i know. i don't need a lecture right now, satoru." you swallow the last of the water and settle back onto your pillow, grumbling when you feel the side of your bed sink with your boyfriend's weight. "baby, you're gonna get sick, too."

"that means i get to take a day or two off," he points out, fitting his face into the divot between your shoulder and neck. despite your complaints, he throws off the comforter and replaces the blankets with his arms. "don't grrrr me, babe. you need to burn off your fever and i run warmer than any of these sheets."

"aren't i sweaty and stinky and yucky? how can you be touching me when i'm all gross?"

"you mean, how can i love on you right now when you're just being a human?"

"mhmm. you don't find it gross?"

"of course not, sweetheart," he reassures you with a kiss to your shoulder. "i'd be a real dickhead if i only loved you when you were feeling 100%."

"yeah, you're only half a dickhead for other reasons," you murmur into the pillowcase and he laughs, the sound reverberating against your back. before your eyes settle shut, you catch the door of your room opening and vaguely make out a messy head of black hair peeking around the corner. "megs?"

"oi, adults only," the other occupant of the bed threatens, pulling you closer and attempting to flip you to your other side to face him. you unbuckle satoru from around you, though, and manage to sit up. megumi pads carefully into the room, like you'd crumble into sand if his steps were too loud. "come in, i guess," your boyfriend says dramatically with a wave of his hand.

"satoru, i swear-"

"sorry, baby. shutting up." satoru flops back onto your bed and you reach out to megumi, who stares at your hand for a moment before rushing into your arms. "hey, megs. since you're here, you mind grabbing me a soda from the breakroom?"

"i thought you were shutting up, satoru," you remind him, voice poisonously sweet. he echoes your reminder in a mockingly high-pitched voice. "i'm gonna kick you out of my room if you don't stop, mister."

"you wouldn't dare," he gasps.

"oh, i would."

"yeah," he concedes. "you definitely would, but i love you for it." with satoru temporarily placated, you return your attention to the small child in your arms.

"you doing okay, megs?" he nods, eyes shut against your chest and holding you tight. "i'm not gonna die, buddy. i promise." you rub your hand up and down his back, combing your fingers through his hair when you're abruptly swung backward onto the bed. "jeez, satoru, what are you-"

"get the kid, it's nap time," he mumbles with finality, resecuring his body around yours and motioning for megumi to climb in. he does, and you drift off sandwiched between your boys, feeling a little lighter for the first time in days.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fluff #ask iris!

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rubra-wav · 3 months

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May I Request a part 2 to Dealbreaker!Reader (same characters) but it’s the characters reactions to the reader surprisingly breaking their deal? I loved what you wrote!

Angel, Husk and Alastor with a dealbreaker S/O pt. 2

[ Part 1 ] < > [ More lore on DBs ]

A/N Thank you so much, I'm glad you liked it, I loved writing this and the last one. Dealbreaker lore brainrot fr.

With how dealbreaking usually goes, it's not instantly a happy ending, unfortunately. These are all pretty happy endings, though.

Fairly long reads for all of these, but it's worth it, I promise 🙏

!(MY REQUESTS ARE NOT OPEN RN. THIS IS JUST LEFT OVER FROM WHEN THEY LAST WERE.)!

Cw: SFW, depictions of violence, mentions of murder, Husk and Angel's is romantic, Alastor's is platonic, gn reader, male reader in mind for Angel's (forgot to add this aaaages back omg)

**Alastor's is written under the assumption that the Lilith owning his soul theory is real + is making a great big assumptions about Lilith + the nature of her deal that will likely be disproven.

She's a great big mystery, I'm just heavily leaning into pure theory in that one.

Angel

- When you break his contract, Angel is overwhelmed with a potent mixture of relief and gratitude.

- The path this far had been fairly easy as far as the process of actually breaking the contract goes.

- The chains on him were poorly crafted and the format was extremely simple with a lot of loopholes to bust the contract wide open.

- It was honestly much harder to fully knock Angel out of the all-encompassing fear-rooted belief that he was doing something incredibly wrong after years of Val's manipulation and control over every part of him.

- It didn't take long to make the counter-contract, just a few minutes referencing the draft as you quickly wrote everything down upon the page pressed against the filthy bench you were sitting at. Angel hovered over you anxiously wringing his hands as he watched you work.

- The lock on his prison cell was quickly broken, along with the actual collar around his neck.

- You cheered as you threw your arms around the disbelieving man next to you. Angel cracked a smile, giddy as he realised that you had done it.

- This peace was short-lived, however.

- You now had to deal with the consequences of actually breaking Angel's deal. Valentino does not take kindly to people taking his toys away from him, especially not one of his top money-makers and favourite souls.

- You had, of course, crafted the counter-contract that was now clutched in your palm in some random location far away from the hotel so Val wouldn't be knocking at the front door knowing it was done then and there.

- However, you two still needed to run.

- Hand in hand, you run away from the approaching sound of distant but loudly approaching cars with the sound of gunshots echoing, legs and lungs burning with exertion.

- As a contrast to your very evident worry, Angel is laughing joyously and more boisterously then he thinks he ever has as the feeling of the heavy sensation of the collar that has been weighing on him is lifts alongside the inability to speak his real name without choking on it.

- The feeling of his newfound freedom and adrenaline mixes in his body, making his blood sing out in his veins like a symphony. An indescribably rich sensation of being alive that he thought he'd never be able to feel again while sober.

- "So long, you overly tall rat bastard! I've found something that's better then anything you could ever fucking give me!" Angel yells out into the warm air of the night as he flips off the general direction of the sound of the gunshots, laughing all the way as you get to the getaway car.

- You're panting as you crank the car into gear, speeding away and putting the glowing counter-contract on the back seat.

- As the distant sounds of gunshots fades into the distance behind you, you turn to the passenger side of the car to make absolutely sure Angel is really okay as he calms down from the high of the chase.

- Your boyfriend is absolutely beaming next to you, glowing with a sense of natural light you'd never before seen in your time being together. It's a beautiful contrast to the artificial sense of life you are so used to seeing broadcast within the studio and his films.

- He looks so different, and not only due to the disguise he had decided upon to lay low until shit calmed down a bit.

- As you make it to your destination - a small house youd been allowed to stay at courtesy of Charlie - you put the car into park and sit there for a for a few seconds.

- "Holy shit. I did it. I actually freed you. And we're not dead." You said, stunned.

- Angel snickered, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning over to you to kiss you on the cheek. "Never doubted you for a second, baby."

- You laugh, relieved, turning to him and gently pull his face close to yours, kissing him deeply. You chuckle at the feeling of the giant smile on Angel's face.

- As you move to settle in to live in the small house for a couple of weeks, you regret turning on the television.

- Angel's face flashes across the screen with text quickly scrolling past a smiling but seemingly close to tweaking Vox on the screen, the man looking like he's about to absolutely lose his shit if one more mild inconvenience happens. The Video Star's eye twitches sightly as if hearing something irritating as he speaks.

- "There is a hefty reward for anyone who can find Angel Dust and the dealbreaker who has interfered with his contract. Any useful information will be welcome. To give us tips, go to the website listed below or call-" You switch the TV off, unplugging it as well just in case.

- If Vox got well and truly involved in this situation to attempt to placate Valentino as soon as possible, this would be even more difficult of a situation. You hadn't much considered the rest of the vees getting involved, assuming they would stsy in their own lanes while Valentino stopped being pissy.

- You shake your head, and move to go to the room where Angel is unpacking. The outside world could wait until later. All that shit could wait until later.

- Angel smiles at you as you walk into the room, such a lightness in it that makes your heart burn.

- You hug him tightly and then fall down on your side into the bed, both of you laughing joyously and filling the empty house with life.

- The road ahead would not be easy, but you were finally on the road to starting your life with him.

- Your life with him as Anothony, not Angel Dust.

Husk

- The road to forming a counter-contract was hard as all hell.

- Alastor's deals are absolutely air tight, crafted with the uptmost skill and attention to detail, so you finding a vague clause to dig your claws into to get it rolling after weeks of arduously reviewing it again and again was a goddamn miracle.

- When he saw that you had made progress, he's shocked as can be. Has a 'well I'll be' moment as you point it out to him after another sleepless night as he wanders up to you.

- Feels bad for fully doubting you after that. He's still pessimistic about your chances of actually succeeding in the counter-contract, but the flame of hope inside of him sparks to embers as you manage to do what nobody has managed to even remotely succeed to do in centuries.

- When you make further progress, he becomes deeply afraid for your safety. If Alastor ever found out you'd been able to get this far, you'd be toast.

- Never in a million years would Alastor allow someone who's managed to undermine his skills to this degree to live. When you say that you've got it covered when he brings it up, he's incredibly skeptical and is even more concerned when you say you can't tell him 'just in case'.

- Is in utter disbelief when you insist you just stay in the hotel as you actually write the counter-contract to break the deal while Alastor is out doing some shenanigans.

- When you say that you don't, in fact, have a death wish, he's extremely stressed and sweating bullets as you begin to write what you'd been drafting for weeks.

- The lights flash and then go out as you're about halfway through writing the contract. Unnatural green light fills the room and Alastor casts a great big shadow on the wall as he materialises out of nowhere.

- Husk feels dread sink into every part of himself.

- The ground shakes as Alastor physically shows up, much larger then usual and snarling. "What do you think you're doing."

- His voice is dripping with malice and static which hurts your ears greatly, but the movement of your pen on the page doesn't stop even though you can feel your heart thudding in terror and your vision is becoming blurry.

- Husk feels nauseous as Alastor looks down at you, growing all the more aggressive the more he feels his hold on Husk slipping.

- Husk fights a panicked yell as Alastor's neck snaps to the side loudly, now looking directly at him with an absolutely vile grin on his face. He cannot make it in time as Alastor's hand moves to crush you, and he fears the absolute worst as you are no longer in his sights.

- His deep despair is interrupted however, as from underneath Alastor's palm great big rose briers grow from underneath and pry it backwards, revealing you still writing - albeit looking extremely stressed - and the figure of Rosie who looks rather angry at Al.

- Alastor's eyes widen in shock and disbelief that one of his oldest friends are currently blocking him from destroying the one trying to take his property.

- Husk hardly hears the back and forth and stalling that goes on between the two overlords as he's running to you to try and pull you the hell out of here.

- He stops in place as he feels it, and hears Alastor let out a terrifying frustrated growling noise. The green collar and chain around his throat appears, and then it breaks with a loud snapping sound. You've succeeded.

- You actually fucking did it.

- The next few moment are a blur as Husk is rendered motionless and speechless, eyes wide and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as if he's about to wake up from this moment.

- He slowly walks towards you, looking to the side blankly as Alastor shrinks back to his normal size and is escorted out of the hotel with a look of pure bewilderment on his face by a now smiling and laughing Rosie. The leader of the cannibals winks at you and gives you a thumbs up as she leaves.

- You turn to Husk and grin at him wearily, still sweating nervously with clear relief on your face. You literally could have just died.

- Husk sinks to his knees beside you from where you sit on the ground, having fallen from your chair as Alastor tried to crush you.

- Husk grips your face in his shaking hands as he looks up at you. He can now see that one of your eyes is black with a deal you've made yourself but for now he doesn't address it.

- "Thank you." His voice is hoarse, low. Tears stream down his face for the first time in a long long time.

- Your face crumples as you allow your brave face to fall to bits. Your heart is still racing and you are still getting over the fear you felt.

- Husk pulls your crying face to his, leaning his forehead against yours as he wraps his arms tightly around you. "Thank you so much." Husk says, closing his eyes and causing more tears to roll down his cheeks.

- "If you ever do something that fucking stupid again, I'll not be humouring you." He added after the wonderful moment stretched out for a couple of seconds.

- You laugh softly, and nuzzle into his cheek as you kiss it. "You're welcome, Husker my love."

- Husk hums in fake annoyance, but he cannot even hide how much lighter he feels.

- The bonds which had kept him trapped for decades had been broken down all at once, leaving him free.

- He had no idea what kind of deal you made with Rosie, but he sure hoped it kept Alastor the fuck away from you and him for the rest of your lives.

- And, for your sake, he desperately hopes it is not the type of deal you will regret making later.

Alastor

- The path to dealbreaking Alastor's is bar fucking none with difficulty, mostly because he doesn't want your help.

- Hurts his his ego so much to see that even though his consistent efforts to tell you to get lost have failed. He's opted to scaring you off multiple times and yet you're still relentless.

- After yet another time of him growing into that massive form and snarling down at you, you snap.

- "Maybe I'm 'overestimating my abilities', but what if I'm not? What if a fresh pair of eyes are what you need rather than you just pissing off to your radio tower and staring at everything until you have a mental breakdown over it!" You yell at him weakly as he turns his back to leave. Blood is dripping from the corner of your mouth, and you're only just regaining your vision from the former static, which blacked it out.

- Alastor stops in his tracks, startled that you know about that too.

- "Maybe I don't have as much experience as you, but I have a different mind and way of looking at things! What if that's exactly why you can't break it? What if whoever it is knows how you think so they've designed this thing so you can't do this alone?"

- You can't see Alastor's face, but he's standing there still not saying anything. One of his ears is pointed backwards in your direction. He's actually listening.

- You gulp, and stand up shakily. "What if they knew that you would never seek assistance, so they've done things which won't be visible to you and only you. If you just give me a chance." You're no longer shouting, rather speaking in a tone you're trying to keep even despite how afraid you are.

- Alastor grits his teeth, ears twitching as he considers it. He's pissed off because you're actually making a good point.

- It goes against every instinct in his body, but suddenly, he's right in front of you, holding out his hand to you as he glares menacingly at you. "A week, and if you find nothing, you will never fucking approach this with me again, or share what you have seen and heard about my deal with anybody."

- You gulp audibly. It's a ridiculously slim deadline for this kind of business, but it's more than nothing. As you accept the deal, he utters a single word you're shocked to hear.

- "Lilith."

- Without any further words, he disappears, leaving a glowing copy of the contract at your feet.

- The week of reviewing the contract was utter fucking hell.

- it's not just that the contract was super air tight, it's just that it was so ridiculously complicated and hard to understand that you could hardly fucking comprehend what you were reading most of the time. It was utterly maddening.

- Your breakthrough, however, came not through solely just reading the words, but from actually talking to Lucifer himself about Lilith when he came to visit the hotel while Alastor left.

- As per the deal, you didn't share anything about the contract, but you did ask about her in private with him and he was actually surprisingly happy to discuss her.

- So that's, how on the last day of the deadline, you cracked the contract wide open with a counter-contract draft you had written in a few hours.

- Alastor almost screams out in pure unadulterated fury when he sees what you've written and hears the explanation behind it.

- Lilith wasn't some skilled dealmaker hellbent on controlling demons. She was a broken down dreamer who had no idea what she was actually doing in the contract, but being Lilith, her words held so much weight that they'd chained him despite that.

- It actually takes every bone in your body to not burst out laughing with how utterly humiliated he looks.

- His ears are pressed forward on his head, and he's making an odd high-pitched audio feedback kind of sound as his face is hidden in his hands.

- He'd been stressing over this thing for years as a skilled dealmaker looking at it, and yet that was exactly why he couldn't do it.

- Couldn't do what you did in a fucking week.

- "So, do you want me to undo this thing now or-?"

- You startle as suddenly he's in front of you, both hands on either one of your shoulders.

- you try so hard to not snicker as you see his expression finally, but fail. He's pressing his still ever-smiling mouth into a crooked line, eyes squeezed shut and brow furrowed. Dark flush covers his cheeks and neck.

- "Yes. Please." He says those words as if they are poison in his mouth. "I'm.. Sorry. That I underestimated you." Alastor opens his eyes to look at you as he begins to regain his composure a bit more, the hard part of this interaction being over with.

- Fortunately, and also infuriatingly, Alastor had not had his soul contract used once. Lilith simply had him in her back pocket and didn't lift a finger whenever she felt him try to break it again and again. It's like she didn't even give a fuck that she literally owned him.

- This fact burnt hot embarrassment and frustration into him as it destroyed his ego, but now it was a relief as she would most likely not try and come after him. Or you for that matter.

- His claws grip painfully into your shoulders as you fail to stop snickering loudly in disbelief that he actually apologised. Admitted losing essentially.

- "S-sorry! I just can't believe I'm seeing you like this." You apologised.

- Alastor gritted his teeth. "Don't get used to it." He growls before his mask slips right back on like it never happened. "I'm simply admitting my mistake in assuming you could not do this, darling! It turns out you truly can't teach an old dog new tricks. Or deer, in this case." He clears his throat, straightening up.

- You smile up at him, heavy bags under your eyes from where you've barely slept for the past week pouring over this.

- "If it makes you feel any better, it makes sense why you couldn't solve this thing. It's utter bullshit nonsense." You shake your head at the contract.

- The deal was undone embarrassingly quickly after that using the draft you had written. No pushback at all on it.

- Alastor feels his collar slacken and break to bits as you write the counter-contract and sighs with extreme relief as he watches the other contract disintegrate, feeling the power which had been stolen coming back as it turns to dust. It doesn't cure the utter humiliation that still sits heavy upon his shoulders however.

- After everything, he would threaten to kill you if you tell anyone about what went on or how he had fallen apart. Though, it would be a lie to say you two don't grow significantly closer.

- Alastor is still hesitant to fully let his guard down around you, however the massive wake that existed between you two even as fairly good friends has now significantly closed.

- He's still a lying, scheming asshole, but he'll be much more inclined to not be so much with you considering you've kept multiple giant blows to his ego fully secret.

This was a lot longer than what I usually write for requests holy moly, but I absolutely loved writing these. I hope I fulfilled your vision anon 🙏

You get through Angel's and Husk's, which are really emotional and sweet, then you get to Alastor's 💀

Masterlist

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thelargefrye · 7 months

Text

GODS … mature one - shot | pt. one

pairing : emperor!san x princess!f!reader

genre : slight historical fiction, mature, dark, arranged marriage, second chance, slow burn, eventually smut

word count : 3.5k

warnings : language, blood / body gore, death / murder, hints of dismemberment, san is evil, name calling (stupid girl)

special birthday suffering tag : @sanjoongie please accept this as an early birthday present from your braincell

note : inspired by san's performance video that literally wrecked all of us. none of are safe from his power and this proved it. also this was getting a little too long so i decided to split it up into at least two parts

after your life is unrightfully taken from you, you take this second chance as a way to finally survive and make a difference for yourself. you were tired of being a prisoner and feeling unwanted.

the dining hall was empty except for you and a few guards and servants. not another soul sitting at the long dining table despite it being able to sit twenty people easily, if not more.

it bothered you that you ate alone. every meal, breakfast, lunch, and dinner was by yourself. honestly, a lot of things bother you, but you were never allowed to say what was on your mind. it bothers you that you eat alone, that you have no one to talk to, that your family willingly gave you up to some demon emperor. what bothered you the most is that your "husband" never even gave you the time of day and that you were forced to listen to the maids whisper and gossip about you.

you saw the look of pity in their eyes.

you don't want their pity. you've never wanted anything but freedom for the last three years you've been trapped in this palace.

you were supposed to marry someone who loved you. have a big ceremony and live happily ever after. instead... instead you were taken away from your family by emperor san and forced to marry him. you were a pawn to him in order to gain control over your kingdom.

a prisoner forced to spend the rest of her life trapped in a loveless marriage and life.

you do your best to push down the negative thoughts as you eat. not wanting to get choked up on tears and cry. you didn't want anyone to see you cry.

especially not these gossiping maids.

"i heard the emperor went to the brothel last night."

"again! does him and the princess not spend nights together?"

"of course not. his highness isn't interested in the princess. their quarters are on completely different sides of the palace. i'm surprised he hasn't killed her, yet."

"i am too."

you try your best to ignore them.

when you've finished eating, you get up from the lonely dining table and exit the room. the maids have their eyes casted downward as you walk past them, acting as if they hadn't just been talking about you. your personal guard, mingi, follows you down the hall.

you remember when you first arrived at the palace, san introduced you to mingi and explained how he will be your personal guard.

"don't try anything stupid, mingi has orders to kill you on sight if you do," san's words still haunt you. mingi wasn't here to protect you, but to watch over you and make sure you never tried anything stupid.

when you return to your quarters, you take your usual seat by your window. the window that overlooks most of palace's entrance and the palace wall that keeps you trapped. too high to climb and too far to even try to attempt to make a run for it. like san purposely chose this room for you as a way to mock you. to let you know that you will always be a prisoner.

still, you can't help but wonder if one day you'll be able to be free and live happily.

however, that will only remain a dream until san crushes it as well like he done to all your other dreams.

"ow," you hiss out, finger immediately coming to your lips to try and stop the small prick of blood. you guess that's what you get for getting lost in your thoughts while attempting to work on your embroider.

you look down at the small cloth with the flower design slowly being sewn into it. embroidering was the only thing that kept you sane in this prison. you're waiting for the day san takes this away from you as well.

"princess, are you alright?" a voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you look up to see one of the other guards, yeosang, coming into your room.

"i'm fine. just pricked my finger," you say and he nodded his head.

"the emperor is here to see you," he says before stepping aside to let your husband enter your room. he walks in exuding so much power and authority and you hate it. you hate him for how much control he has. you're forbidden from entering the west wing – his quarters – of the palace, yet he's allowed to come in the east wing and even your room without having to ask. you hate it.

"girl," he begins, never has he addressed you by your name. always just 'girl' or 'stupid girl' when it comes to you, like you weren't of your name let alone your title. "pack your bag, i'm sending you back to your home kingdom for a week. you'll be leaving tomorrow morning."

his words take you by surprise. you'll be... returning home? after three years of being away from your family, you'll finally get to see them?

"r-really?" you ask, standing up and completely forgetting about your pricked finger.

"what are you deaf, girl. i'm not going to repeat myself," he says with an annoyed huff and turns to leave.

"wait!" he stops in his tracks at your voice, but he doesn't turn around to look at you. "why am i going? is everything alright?"

"when did you ask so many fucking questions? be grateful i'm sending you there in the first place," he doesn't say anything else before he takes his leave. the door to your bedroom slamming shut behind him and you immediately flinch at the sound.

"are you ready, princess?" yeosang's voice catches you off guard as you look up at the palace you had been trapped inside for three years. being in the front courtyard gives you a completely different set of emotions knowing that you will be away from this place. even if it is for a week.

you asked yeosang if san was going to come, but the guard completely avoided your question. you're not surprised he's not showing up, but it still hurts nonetheless.

then something else hits you.

"where's mingi?"

"he's had some last minute orders from the emperor," yeosang says, keeping his answer vague like always. "come, princess, we have a long trip ahead of us."

you don't say anything but instead silently climb into the carriage. once you're settled inside, the carriage begins to move and you can't help but look out the window watching as you leave the palace.

you couldn't help the smile that painted your lips knowing that you were finally getting to return to your family. you knew nothing could ruin this moment, not even your ruthless husband.

yeosang let out an exhausted breath as he ran towards the palace. the guards standing at their post immediately recognized their fellow soldier, even with his beaten and bruised body.

"yeosang!" the handsome guard recognizes the deep voice from anywhere and he immediately falls into mingi's arms. collapsing from his injuries, no longer able to stand. then mingi realized something as he and some other guards helped his friend. "where's the princess?"

yeosang looked at mingi with tearful eyes before he shook his head and mingi felt something in stomach twist.

"where's the princess, yeosang?"

"i couldn't... i couldn't– bandits ambushed us... i tried, mingi, i really did, but they–

yeosang couldn't finish his words due to how choked up he was getting, but mingi understood what his friend was trying to say.

"where is she?"

"she's in the forest," yeosang answered and mingi immediately set out on his horse with his best friend and fellow guard, yunho. the two were deep into the forest before they finally came across the carriage you had left in.

the entire carriage was destroyed, the wheels broken off and the main part crashed into a large oak tree. bodies of the driver and some others were laying, scattered around and blood was everywhere.

"mingi..." yunho is attempting to be strong as he watches his friend make his way towards the carriage door. it too had been broken and destroyed and the two guards noted how all of your luggage was gone. "those bandits took everything."

mingi ignored his friend in favor of opening the carriage door. however, instead of being met with an empty carriage, he was greeted with something worse.

"fuck!" mingi has to pull himself away from the carriage. tripping over the tree roots as he bends over and vomits. the sight in the carriage burned into his eyes even as he blinks. yunho watches his friend with concern before he's watching him breakdown and sob. tears running down his cheeks and snot running down his nose and over his chin from how hard his was sobbing. mingi's throat burned from when he threw up.

yunho looked between mingi and the carriage before taking several steps towards the carriage. mingi's voice repeating "oh god, oh god, i'm so sorry. please forgive me" is like a broken record in the background. and then yunho reaches over and opens the door and the sight within makes his whole being shake in terror.

when they arrived back to the palace, mingi carried a bag with him as they reached the throne room. san was sitting on his throne with his usually bored expression; however, mingi and yunho entering caught his attention.

"what's wrong with you two?"

"your highness," yunho begins, voice shaking as he starts to talk. however, yunho doesn't know what to say. he's at a loss for words.

"well? what the fuck is wrong you both?" san asks again, standing up and walking towards the two guards. mingi doesn't say anything except hand the bag over to him. "what is this?"

"your highness, the princess's carriage was attacked by bandits. yeosang managed to make it back, but..." yunho says, finally finding his words. he continues after a moment and at the same time san opens the bag. "the princess did not make it. we brought back... what was left of her."

the image of your body laying in the carriage burns in yunho's mind. he had never seen something as horrific before during his time as a soldier and especially done to an innocent woman like you. you did nothing wrong, just someone trapped in a situation you had no control over.

san says nothing as he looks inside the bag, letting the contents settle into his mind before he's carelessly dropping the bag onto the ground in front of his feet.

"oh well."

you can't help the scream that rips through your throat as you thrash around your bed. your covers flying everywhere before settling either back onto your bed or in the floor. your heart is beating rapidly in your ears and your eyes scan the room around you.

you couldn't help but let out another scream as your door is thrown open and in comes mingi with a concerned look.

"what's wrong, princess?" in any other moment you would have found his voice a comfort. but in this moment, you couldn't even find the proper words. the only thing leaving your lips were sobs as tears ran down your face.

it had felt so real, you thought as you curled yourself into a ball. you felt like you had actually died. alone in that forest as those bandits... no. you don't really want to think about it anymore.

"princess y/n?" mingi speaks again earning your attention as you look at him with tear-stained cheeks and glassy eyes.

"i... i had a nightmare," you said as you wiped away your tears. you hated yourself for crying in front of someone, mingi especially. "sorry."

"ah, its alright, princess. just gave me a scare is all," he says before he's bowing his head towards you and leaving.

when the door closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. your hands instinctively come up to your neck, feeling a slight ache course through your body. you try to push back the feeling as your stood you and made your way to your ensuite bathroom to get ready.

you remember when you first arrived how you had at least three handmaids to help you get ready, only helping you because they were afraid of san. however, once they realized san didn't care about you, they stopped doing their duty and showing up. only one continued to be loyal to you, yeri.

but then three months ago you found out that yeri only remained by your side because she wanted to try and get close to san. she knew she was a pretty woman and san went after any pretty woman. after she got what she wanted she too–

"princess y/n, what are you doing running your own bath?" the familiar feminine voice snaps you out of your thoughts. standing up from the the edge of the tub, you're surprised to see yeri standing at you bathroom door.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, a little surprised to suddenly see her in your room.

"hm? what are you talking about princess? i'm your handmaiden, i'm suppose to be here," she answers and something feels unease as seeing her settles in your stomach. something wasn't right.

you vividly remember the night you found san pinning her to the wall and her words that were meant to bring you down. "wouldn't you rather someone who could properly please you, your highness? someone much prettier than your ugly and boring wife?" you remember who she tilted her head to the side in a flirting manner, even twirling her hair as the word left her mouth a stabbed your heart.

you remember how san only smirked at her before continuing to have his way with her. right there in hallway and in the east wing – "your" wing.

you had thought she was a friend, but when you heard those words you immediately knew she wasn't. you trusted her and she betrayed that trust. she didn't care. she was like everyone else.

"here, princess, let me finish–

"stop talking," you cut her off, voice as cold as you could make it. you couldn't stand looking at her. "is this some sick and twisted joke to you?" you ask, glaring at her. yeri's face is immediately covered in confusion and she opens her mouth to say something. "get out. i don't need you to do anything for me."

"but princes–

"i said get out!" you've never raised your voice, but the longer you looked at her the more you realized that she was able to easily get what you could never have. san's attention.

you could have sworn you seen yeri's fake persona fall for a split second from your new attitude before she's turning on her feet and rushing out of the room.

you let your anger subdue before you're turning back to the tub and quickly turning off the water before it begins to overflow into the floor. because honestly that was the last thing you need right now after just waking up.

you allow the warm water engulf you and you let out a sigh as you sink into the water. your hair placed carefully on top of your head as a way to keep it dry, knowing it was going to be a pain to do if you got it wet. the ache and soreness in your body was still there all around you. your neck, wrist, arms, stomach, and legs all had a type of ache to them that you never experienced before.

maybe you should visit the palace doctor later, you think before you let your eyes close. however, once you close your eyes you are immediately brought back to your nightmare. the screams of the driver and other servants ringing in your ears, the carriage door ripping open and those bandits standing there and their swords shining despite the darkness of the night.

you suddenly open your eyes again in order to make sure you were still in your bathroom. eyes darting around the room as if those bandits would also be here. its only after several minutes does your heart rate calm down before you can even will yourself to get out the tub.

the water had grown cold.

"princess, are you alright? do you need to see the doctor?" one the maids ask when she notice you keep repeatedly rubbing your wrists and neck.

"i... i think i just slept wrong," you say in an attempt to brush her concern off.

"alright, princess, but if it gets worse please let someone know," she says and you nod and thank her before she's going back to her place with the other maids in the dining room.

"i heard she dismissed yeri this morning, yelled at her and told her to get out," one of the maid's said in a hushed whisper.

"really? that's surprising considering how much the princess liked her."

"i say yeri deserved it because of how she has been trying to sleep with the emperor."

trying? as if she hadn't done it yet? how is that possible when she did sleep with san three months ago?

the unsettling feeling reappears as you continue to think about yeri and the nightmare. something just wasn't clicking.

"excuse me," you say and one of the maids immediately come over to you.

"yes, your highness? what's wrong?"

"what... what month is it?"

"august, your highness."

"a-august?" your shocked by her answer. it was august? that was three months ago. how is this possible?

"p-princess are you alright? you look ill," her voice sounds far away as you begin to lose focus on the things around you. everything becomes blurry and you're quick to stand up. chair scraping along the floor before tipping over and falling to the floor.

you begin to walk away, ignoring the maids calling after you and even some of the guards, but you ignore them all. this was just some sick joke from all of them. from yeri, to mingi, to the maids, to san. you were supposed to be in october and spending a week with your family. not in fucking august with people who hated you.

you don't have time to comprehend anything else before your falling to your knees and passing out in the middle of the hallway.

after you had passed out, you had woke up in your bedroom with mingi, yeosang, and the palace doctor surrounding your bed along with a young maid.

the maid was the first to notice you awake and she immediately collapsed at your bedside with tears welling up in her eyes.

"oh, princess, i'm so glad that you're awake! we were all worried sick about you!" she said and your eyes moved from between her to the two guards and then the doctor.

"how do you feel, your highness?" the doctor asked and it took you a moment before you actually answered him.

"i'm fine," you answer despite how your body still aches, you force yourself to sit up. the young maid is quick to adjust your pillows for you as you do.

"you all can leave," you add on looking at the guards and doctor. mingi and yeosang as hesitant to follow your orders, but the doctor does so before giving you instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day. he also said that he would make sure your meals are delivered to your room and that he'll come back later.

when the three males leave, you are left alone with the maid. her doe eyes looking at you with concern as she keeps a watchful eye on you. that's when her name finally comes to you.

"yunjin..." you say trailing off as you remember that she was with you in the carriage. you remember watching as the bandits grabbed her by the hair and dragged her out of the carriage because she tried to protect you.

"yes, ma'am? do you need anything?" she asks, voice hopeful and waiting to help you. you remember she began working for you when hongjoong – san's advisor, had found out that you had no one helping you. you know he only assigned yunjin because he took pity on you like everyone else here.

however, yunjin followed you around and listened to every order you gave her. at first you were worried that she would be like yeri, only using you to see the emperor. as if you see him on the daily. but then you learned that yunjin was a devoted servant to you.

"is it... really august?" you asked her, still not able to wrap your head around everything.

"yes, princess."

what if... oh god, what if you did actually die that night? does this mean you are given a second chance? a second chance to survive and to make sure that you and yunjin and the other servants don't die.

but how were you going to do this?

and then you hear loud cheers and noises coming from outside and you have to force your body to crawl out of bed and over to the window. then you see him.

san walking through the gates and into the courtyard, a small army of followers around him. following him around like he was some god. then it clicked inside your brain.

if you were going to survive then you would have to gain his favor. deep down you know san was probably the one behind the "bandit" attack. so getting on his good side would get him to call off the bandit attack.

you were going to win over your ruthless husband.

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defectivehero · 21 days

Note

Villian (hero's lover) locks up injured hero until they get better, hero was injured many times before and would always convince villian that they were fine, this was the last straw.

i am allergic to explicit romance (or romance at all), so i'm skipping over that part haha

"Well, isn't this fun," the villain remarks, raising their brows as they study the hero's form. They've been waiting for the hero to arrive. After all, the villain's misdeeds are never ignored for very long. And the villain has enough experience to know exactly how to unsettle and unnerve the hero—how to get them running over in five minutes; how to summon them without so much as a single word or action. They are the puppet master and the hero is their faithful mannequin, bending to their every whim.

Yet the hero has been running about with loose strings recently. Surely that is the only explanation for their current state: as they stand unsteadily, blood spattered across their clothes and bruises and scrapes nearly everywhere. It looks like they're favoring their left ankle over their right and there's a dazed glaze in their eyes, as if they're fighting off fatigue. "Just what makes you think you can take me on in such a state?" The villain asks lightly.

"Shut up," the hero hisses. They take a step forward—evidently intending to fight them—only to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap. The villain chokes on a laugh; after a few seconds, they walk over and look down at their enemy, clicking their tongue.

"This is embarrassing," the villain remarks. They lightly kick at the hero's side and the hero groans, flipping to lie on their back. The hero squints up at them as the sunlight evidently burns bright spots in their vision.

"Just... leave," the hero bites out. It's clear that their pride is wounded, if they're admitting that they can't fight. If the villain were a kinder person, they would leave the hero be. But they have never been kind, so they laugh instead.

"I don't think so," the villain says, regarding the hero with mild interest. "You were the one to seek me out, remember?" Indeed, the villain got here first, and the hero arrived shortly after. The villain stares down at the hero's form for a long moment, a plan quickly taking shape in their mind.

"What are you plotting?" The hero asks, breaking them out of their thoughts. The villain must've had a smirk on their face. They raise a brow and the smirk returns. Something in their expression must betray their intentions, because the hero immediately tries to back away on their elbows. "Don't touch me," the hero spits.

"Sure," the villain remarks easily, ignoring their request and instead bending down and picking the hero up into their arms. They're sure their rival wants to resist, but they're evidently much too injured to do so. Regardless, the hero looks positively murderous. The villain takes a deep breath and closes their eyes, until the familiar feeling of darkness encompasses them and they visualize their intended destination: their laboratory. Within moments, the villain is standing in the center of their lab with the hero.

"What the fuck are you doing-?" The hero spits, blinking rapidly as they recover from the quick teleportation. A person who is teleported against their will can experience dizziness, blurred vision, headaches... The list goes on. The villain supposes these side effects only further aid their current plans, making the hero pliant in their arms.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" The villain asks quizzically, walking mechanically towards the glass enclosure near the edge of the room. They feel an amused smile growing on their lips. "Taking a walk in the park? Honestly." The motion sensors activate and the door to the enclosure slides open. The villain walks to the corner of the space and unceremoniously drops the hero onto the ground. Their enemy groans at the

The hero is hardly able to move—they will not be able to escape. The villain watches as that realization crashes down on them, as they're forced to accept their sudden captivity.

"I don't understand-" They mumble, looking around the space with a sort of dazed confusion.

"You really do talk too much." The villain murmurs regretfully.

"I-" The hero sputters. It seems they've never been told that before. That is really a shame—they need more honest friends, the villain thinks to themself. "This isn't- I could die in here!" They stare up at them with panic.

The villain pointedly looks at the adjacent wall and the hero turns their head to the side. Their reaction is incredibly amusing—so much so that the villain wishes they had the foresight to record it, so that they could watch it over and over again. The hero regards the water machine with a truly nasty glare, as if the machine did something to personally offend them.

"You're joking," the hero seethes. "What is this, a fucking hamster cage? You're missing an exercise wheel." They scoff, looking around the rest of their new cage. "...And food."

"You know humans can survive for three weeks without food," the villain remarks helpfully. "And I've always wanted to test that theory..." They smile, clasping their hands excitedly.

"Seriously?" the hero hisses incredulously. "I'm not a fucking guinea pig for you to experiment on."

"You aren't?" The villain asks, slipping on a mask of genuine confusion. "Then why did you come when I called?" The hero stares at them in irritated disbelief. The villain hums in satisfaction. The hero's anger and confusion gives them immense joy. "Maybe now you'll learn to take better care of yourself," they murmur patronizingly, crouching down and placing a hand on the hero's cheek.

"Don't touch me," the hero repeats like a mantra. The villain isn't sure if that remark is meant for them or the hero themself. They don't think it quite matters.

"This is your own fault, you know," the villain whispers, standing back up. The accusation sinks heavily into the air and the hero must know it to be true, if the way the light in their eyes briefly flickers and dims. "if you hadn't come to me in such a state, this wouldn't have happened."

The hero looks to be considering their next words thoughtfully. It's clear they want to beg or plea, but they must know that their efforts will be to no avail. The villain has never bowed down to the hero's desires, and they don't plan to start now.

Evidently discouraged, the hero switches tactics. Their composure promptly shatters, as it is instead replaced with raw, unbridled fury. It's clear that they've come to one inevitable conclusion: they will be trapped here until the villain wishes to release them (if the villain wishes to release them). "You can't do this to me!" The hero screams, their eyes wide and their voice unsteady.

"I believe I just did," the villain says with a slight smile. They take a step backwards. "See you in a few days. Try not to die. Or do—just don't make a mess of it." They walk out the door and it slides shut behind them, leaving the hero caged in walls of glass. The villain sits down at their desk and busies themself with their newest blueprints. Their enemy's agitated screams and desperate shouts are a pleasant hum in the back of their mind as the villain resumes their work.

me typing: "raw unbridled furry." me: wait. fury. i meant fury.

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#defectivehero #does this make sense #I sure hope so #LOL #hero x villain #heroes and villains #hero and villain #superheroes and supervillains #writing #writeblr #short fic #snippet #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #etc etc #whump #ig

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bamsara · 2 years

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Hi I'm literally BEGGING you to do a part II of the Drunk Byte with Sun?? He would be so motherly and exasperated with us

I freaking LOVED part I

Sun takes care of hungover Reader. Continued prompt from this post. Wordcount: 3200+

AO3 link (preferred if you comment!)

CW: Drinking mention, (1) puking instance and other typical syptoms of hangover. Nudity mention in a non-sexual situation (you eat soup while a nice hot bath, yay.) and some suggestive humor.

You wake up easy, with sunlight coming in through the blinds of your bedroom window leaving lines of light across your face, it's unlucky enough for you that one cast across your eyes and burns through your eyelids as you come to consiousness.

Eyes shut tight, your hand palms around your surroundings (you feel sheets, a blanket, your pillow) before grabbing the nearest one out from underneath something heavy and throwing it over your face.

It's a instictive reaction, quick and you're almost back to slumber when the thought process starts to churn in your mind: you didn't fall asleep in your bed last night, and you don't remember ever walking in here.

Sleep ignores that thought. Nausua, however, beats sleep back with a barbed stick and you sit up quickly, eyes flying open and all but blindlly scrambling upwards, over something gangly on the other side of the mattress and out of the bed.

There is a very surprised "oh dear" you hear coming from your bedroom as you run but you don't really catch it until you're kneeled over the toilet, eyes starting to wet as a sour feeling starts to boil and-oh, there you go. Yep. You're puking. You are definantly throwing up. Man, this was never pleasant.

Between the horrid noises and the inbetween on your still-groggy conciousness, footsteps approuch. You're finished (at least, you hope you are) as a hand comes to brush back across your forehead, and another settles on your back, running up your spine in a comforting rythem. "Guess you didn't see the bucket by the bed, did you?"

Turning your head, you squint at the yellow, smiling gangly thing through wet, blearly eyes. "Heuh?"

Sun's smile is soft, brightening the room. "Good morning!"

You open your mouth to speak, and then immediatly choke on trying to swallow back the rest of the nausea. "It is-" You cough, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "I-It does not feel like a good morning."

"Well, we can work on that part." He's chipper, though a touch quieter than normal. A sorta-whisper yell under his usual volume, like he was purposly trying to be mindful of the potential headache you might be in route for. "All done? Do you need a minute."

You swallow. You feel gross. Terribly gross. "I'm- I'm done."

"Okay, now. Uppys-daisy, like so-" Hands underneath your arms, he lifts you gently into standing position, slowly enough so the movement doesn't make you dizzy. The toilet lid is put down, flushed and Sun lowers you to sit while the world spins. "Sit here. Good, there you go."

Honestly? You're not even fully awake. "I feel horrible."

There's amusement in his voice when Sun steps back. "Oh, I can tell!"

"Mean." You mummble, a soft tissue being pushed into your hand and you using it to wipe your face without missing a beat. "Rude."

He scoffs, plucking the tissue and throwing it in the waste basket. "I think 'rude' would be pulling out my pillow and then almost tripping over me while I was in the middle of a very good book!"

Your face scrunches up, only partially because the bathroom light is too bright for your incoming migraine. "Didn't have to be in the bed."

"Well, no." Sun tosses the tissue, leaning over to start running water in the skin. "But We like to be close by, and that was the comfiest spot!" He says, and your retort is silienced by him handing you a toothbrush, and a cap of mouthwash you were too groggy to see him pour. "Here, now. I don't know the experience but I've heard a lot of little ones complain about the taste."

You don't reject the offering, grabbing both items and not-complaining when you are guided to standing again so you can lean over the sink. "You still get sick ones in your classes?"

"Plenty! All the time. Often. They like to eat glitter glue when I'm not looking. Sometimes, parents drop them off with a fever." Sun smiles, his hand still resting on your back like he was afraid of you falling backwards. "We think you should stay home for the day, too."

You start the process of mouthwash, toothpaste, mouthwash and repeat. "M'not arguing."

"Sit tight." He bids you to stay, and you see his shape blur out of the corner of your eye out of the bathroom, the door cracked open in his absence.

It takes it's few runs but the taste goes away and your mouth feels infinatly cleaner than it did before. A breathe check and you're good to go, like the whole unpleasant experience never even happened. Your appereance, however, was a sight to behold in the mirror.

You're dishevielved, starting to feel a little grimy on your skin and still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Except your jacket was missing, and your shoes had been taken off. They never went past that, always lecturing about diginity and privacy if you were caught sleeping with your day clothes on.

You didn't mind it, but it's kinda hypocritcal when they're perfectly fine barging in when you're awake though. The nerf gun is probably still sitting loaded on the shower shelf. You can thank Moon for the need of that one.

You needed a shower, a change of clothes, and some food in your belly. Seriously. There felt like nothing in your stomach and it was not doing you any good for the hangover you were currently expereincing.

Turning on your heel, you seek out the door to find the kitchen (maybe stuff some shredded cheese in your mouth or something) but a taller form suddenly appears, blocking the exit. "Oh, feeling better?" Sun exclaims, something folded over his arms. You squint at what he's holding; a towel, and more comfortable, clean clothes. "Feel like coming and sitting at the table? Or would you rather take a shower first instead?"

You think about it for a long, hard moment. You're hungry, but you're also gross. A glance back towards the bathtub is very tempting, but the rumbling in your stomach is also persistant. "Give me a second. I'm trying to decide between food or hygine."

"You can have both." Sun offers, holding out the offerings of clean clothes and the towel. "Run a bath and I'll bring it to you, or slide it through the door. Whichever suits your fancy."

You groan. "Sounds like you're trying to spoil me."

"It's in our design!" His sunrays spin once, and lower with a smile. "...And we did just watch you upcheck a peanut butter sandwich."

Fair enough. You take the clothes and towel into your arms, throwing them on top of the counter and ushering him out with a wave of the hand. "Okay, get out. Shoo."

He salutes you in the doorframe. "Yell if you need me!"

There's pounding in your head when you lean over to turn on the faucet, so your response is a aknowledgment that comes out more like a zombie-fied groan.

There's a chuckle as the door softely shuts behind you, but you don't have the energy to call him out for it, and you start to undress. The water fills up to a comfortable level when you're done, tossing the dirty clothing in the corner (oh, Sun hates when you do that) and testing the tempature. It's hot, but just enough that you can comfortably sink into the water.

You just kinda....sit there.

The hot water is very nice. Muscle aches and preassure in your skull still lightly throbbed, but melted away a bit at the steam. You still felt hungry, dehydrated, and you didn't have the energy just yet to grab the soap and shampoo, but taking a deep breath helps the nausea disppate and help you finally start to wake all the way up.

At some point, you take the effort to pour a little body wash into the water around the faucet to hopefully start some bubbles, but they're scarce and don't really do much except make the water a bit cloudy. Welp. At least it smelled nice.

A knock on the door causes a small twinge of headache pain, but you muster out a answer to the waiting figure on the otherside. "Come in."

The door creaks open, two sunrays are peeking through the crack while a robot arm holding a soup bowl and spoon slowly come into view so carefully it's almost comicall. You fight back a snort as Sun's voice rings around the corner. "Delivery! I'm not looking, promise!"

"Hypocrite." You call outloud, and this time you don't hold back the snicker when the door opens wider, Sun fully walking into the bathroom with his head spun all the way around in some freakish 180 degree turn. How does he even walk straight looking backwards?

He manages, finding the floor next to the tub and sitting down on the floor mat. "It's the thought that matters! And I would like to remind you that I am holding some yummy soup that will maybe definatly hit the floor if you decided to use that terrible nerf gun on me!"

"I won't shoot you." You snort.

Sun's head rotates back around to his proper position, and smiles at you. "Oh good. I wouldn't have dropped the soup anyways." It's a coy, teasing grin sent your way as the bowl is set on the side of the bath. "Chicken soup is supposed to be good for this sort of thing. It's cool enough to hold, but still be careful."

"Yeah yeah-" You take a hold of the bowl, careful not to drop it in the bath (which, honestly, would have been hilarious) and take a tentive sip from the side, forgoing the spoon. It's hot, but not hot enough for the bowl to burn your hands. The broth and noodles go down very quickly, and you can feel your body start to pick up energy from the promise of something in your stomach. "Thank you for the soup."

Sun nods, pulling out something with his other hand, second hand going to his pants pocket. A glass of water you didn't even notice is set to the side, and your phone is pulled out from the fabric. You don't even ask, but grab and gulp the water in a frenzy of hungover dehydration as the animatronic taps your phone to life. "You got a missed call while I was making food."

"Oh, yeah?" You talk inbetween gulps, returning to your soup. It's nice to sink into the water and just drink from the bowl, really becoming one with the liquid here. "From who? What was it about?"

Sun looks up, quizzically. "Oh! Was I supposed to answer it?"

You slurp a noodle."If you want? I really don't mind."

"Reducing me to an answering machine, I see." He grins. You just slurp a noodle again, but this time obnoxiously louder. He taps a few buttons. "It's from your classmate, Brianna. Looks like she left you a message."

(Oh! So that's what her name was!)

He turns the phone towards you, handed out just not over the water so you could reach out to accsess the thread, but you flinch at the screen's brightness that burns your eyes. Your face must have twisted with your headache, because the phone is pulled away and Sun talks quieter, offering. "May I?"

You mean to say 'yes', but it comes out more like a grumbled zombie groan plagued with the start of a migraine.

"There's pain killers in the cabinet. I'll get them for you in a moment." Sun smiles, turning the phone back to himself and tapping to the message thread. A second passes where he scans the scree, and his smile stretches awkwardly. "Ah."

You blink. "What?"

His smile turns increasenly more nervous, hesitation in his voice as he starts his sentence off with a awkward laugh. "She, ah, asked how your-" Sun pauses like he was inwardly debating on the correct word. "-adventures with the....'sexy, tall, robot clown' went, last night."

You almost spit out your soup, swallowing the last gulp hard. "Oh my god."

"There's also some more...things she asked." Sun puts the phone face down on the floor. "And I, well, I do not think I can ask those outloud."

"Oh my god." You snort, and almost choke on a noodle so bad you're forced to lean over the side of the bath, set the near-empty bowl on the floor just so you can catch your breathe from the laughter that's bubbling up in your throat. "Oh my god, ha! That's-that's hilarious. Holy shit!"

"Well, I'm glad you found it funny!" Sun gasps, hand over his chest ands so shocked that he doesn't even scold you for the profainity. "I'm disturbed! Offended! You were drunk! What kind of robot do they think we are?!"

The laughter hurts your head, but you don't care at the moment. "A sexy one!"

He makes a noise that makes you laugh harder, and points accusatory to you. "You stop that!"

"Okay! Okay-" You take a deep breathe, calming youself. Partially because you don't want to be flustered yourself, and partially because you didn't want that nausea you've been keeping at bay to steadily creep back up to you. "Okay. I'm fine. It's fine now. But it's funny."

"What nosy, personal questions." Suns tuts, sliding the phone away from him. "I think I would have preferred answering your questions from last night instead."

Oh, man. You had actaully forgotten about that. "Hey-"

"Feel any better?" The change in topic is abrupt, but the shift in his smile from nervous to teasing is just as much whiplash. "Ready to get out yet? Or would you rather sit here for a while and pick-up where we left off last night?"

Your face sours, frowning at him and sinking into the water. "I'm dying. I'm dying in soup and you're going to mock me while I'm dying."

Without missing a beat, he stacks the dishes to the side, his other arm reaching back to pull the towel off the counter. "I'm sure you'd make for a tasty soup, but I'm afraid I'll have to save you for later."

You groan something incoherent at the joke, but quiet any retort you had ready unless you wanted to be met with the same wit. He helps you stand up, (turning his head away backwards again, though it's more out of respect than actaully avoidance by now) and you're wrapped in the towel and guided out of the tub by the time he picks up the dishes, the dirty clothes you left the corner and moves to the door.

He pauses in the doorway with upward turned eyes and a mischivious grin. "I'll be in the living room, unless you'd like some help-"

You throw the towel at him, to which Sun fake-screams at a super high pitch, dodges the projectile and darts out of view.

Something tells you that you were going to get teased about those questions for a long while.

The aches and nausea has disapated now that you were clean, relaxed and had something light in your stomach, so it's easier to get dressed in whatever he brought you. Lounge-wear, sweatpants and a t-shirt good enough for a lazy day. You pick up your phone off the tile before you forget it and flip it back over to face the screen.

It's still open on your classmate's message thread. Squinting as you turn down the brightness, you glance over the incoming texts and yeesh, oh man. Wow. Yeah, these were some very...interesting questions. But hey, it looks like she score a date with that bartender robot after all! Good for her.

It is with your almost horror, however, that Sun has accidently taken a close-up selfie of himself and sent it into the message thread with no further context, probably by accident. Robot fingers weren't the best to work with on touch screen phones. You can already see the chat bubble popping up for your classmate typing.

Probably best to avoid any misunderstanding. With a quick tap of your fingers, you send two pictures (one of a selfie of you and Sun from a previous date, another one you took of Moon and yourself during a movie night) and in your hungover state, try to give the brief explanation that it was in fact, a friend and roommate who picked you up last night, and that none of her previous questions apply.

You even ask her how her night with the bartender went to keep up the solid conversation, but her next message flat out ignores it and is typed in all caps.

The message reads: 'YOU HAVE TWO OF THEM??!?? 😳😳😳'

Actaully, you know what? Let's just back out of that message thread and make it a problem to deal with later.

Sun is in the living room just as he said he was, and he meets your gaze just as you flinch from all the light coming in from the balcony glass windows. He looks up at you from the couch, book in hand and meets your scrunched expression with a bright, chipper look. "You're looking brighter!"

Your reponse is a stuck-out tongue and a 'blegh'. "Where are those painkillers you talked about?"

"Here." He sits up, gesturing towards the coffee table so you walk about the sofa. A fresh glass of water and two small ibeprofen sit on a napkin waiting for you.

You snag it, downing them quickly and sighing as you place the now half-empty glass back down. "Great. Soon I'll only be half dying. Let me in. " With all the grace of a zombie, you flail your arm in Sun's direction until the animatronic, confused, arms are raised and you all but practically plop into his space, both of your legs resting on the rest of the couch. "Oof."

He's careful adjusting so you're inbetween his arms and resting on his chest, the book situated in front of you for his viewing while you shimmie your phone back out of your pocket and click on all the notifications you've missed. You bypass a couple of social media links, a news report and a couple of game notifcation as Sun hums. "How do you feel?"

"Better. Mostly." You scroll through your feed with mindless effort. "Did you add more games on my phone? My notifications are all stacked up."

Sun shys in on himself. "Perhaps."

You find the one most recently used, and it brings you to a higher level in a mobile game you've ever seen a human person do. "...Candy crush? You're a robot. It takes no effort to calculate the right move to win."

"I like the animations! Some of them look like Sundrops and Moondrops, too"

"I'm going to beat your high score."

"Then I'll watch." Sun speaks softely, and he's comfortable to lean into the crook between his torso and his arm, curled up with your phone close to your face on the lowest brightest setting and the shadow of his book protecting you from the light that shines in from the balcony.

#sorry if the ending is abrupt i didnt know how to end it lmao #writings #fnaf sb #fnaf sun #sundrop #fnaf moon #moondrop #sun x reader #moon x reader #Solar Lunacy #drabbles #x reader #self insert

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rumblebat · 7 months

Text

2nd place was (one of my top favorites) Piccolo! The sexy Namekian himself! Please enjoy the story and look at the rating! >w<

rating: [MA-X] - for a mature audience cw: smut/nsfw, implied afab reader with gender neutral pronouns, implied reader is buzzed/tipsy, breeding, implied piccolo/king piccolo, language, slight yandere theme, very VERY horny Piccolo word count: 1,822

sneak peek: The Demon King glared down at you, grabbing you by the hair. "Speak up, bitch…I don't think I heard you."

x | x (you are here) | x | x | x | x | x | x

Zarbon waltzed over to you, nudging you out of your chair. With a faint grumble, you turned away from your conversation with Goku to the handsome green prince.

"Can I help you?" You asked, slightly annoyed. Your semi-buzzed state only seemed to heighten your senses. Everything seemed to annoy you more and more, and Zarbon only made it worse.

He made a disgusted face and rolled golden eyes, pointing a freshly manicured finger to the closet. "Your services are requested in the closet…(y/n)." He said, a slight hint of sass as he said your name.

You looked over, tilting your head. "Me? Tsk…whatever." You said, taking your nearly empty glass of booze and chugging it. Saying your goodbyes to Goku and the others, you made your way to the closet.

You grunted and bumbled inside, sucking your teeth as the door struck your backside. "It's too damn dark in here! Zarbon is such an ass…not even telling me who's in here." You mumbled to yourself, cursing at the emerald-haired man. Your hands trailed along the wall, at least trying to find a light switch or something. Instead, your dainty hands skimmed across a chiseled, yet soft, chest.

You quickly moved away and stumbled back, "Ah! Hello?!" You called out. The body that occupied the same space as you grunted. "Quit being so loud. You're giving me a headache."

'That voice…' You said to yourself. "Piccolo?" You asked, "What the hell are you doing in here…?" The Namekian didn't say anything. He stood quiet for a few minutes, pondering the next thing to say.

"Since I don't get out much, in Goku's terms. He wants me to try something out. Like…parties. Ugh.." Piccolo placed his back to the wall, slowly siding down to the floor. "I honestly don't get this. Why are two people in a dark room, let alone a closet? What the hell are we supposed to do? Strain our eyes?"

"Talk…maybe kiss. Fuck, even." You said bluntly. Hearing a slight choke coming from Piccolo made you giggle. "Not used to it huh?"

"Of course, I'm not! You think I go around and lounge in people's closets?"

"I'd let you!~" You cooed at him.

Piccolo blinked, evidently unimpressed with your usual reply. "You are a strange one. I knew you'd say something like that…" He chuckled to himself before creeping over to you. The atmosphere around you suddenly changed, becoming denser. Your breath caught in your throat. "Well…" Piccolo's voice was gruff, nearing your ear. "If we are supposed to do those things. Why don't we get started…?~"

You sat there, shocked, and quickly got kicked out of your daydream when a slimy, thick tongue scrapped across your neck. A hefty shiver rushed over your body. "You taste better than I thought…" Piccolo whispered. Your face was quickly heating up. The Namekian sat beside you, then grasped your waist. He firmly placed you on his lap. "I want to take my time with you." He huffed.

You felt like you were going to burst. This was all you ever wanted! Piccolo's trained hands slowly made their way up your shirt and to your chest. You let out a soft groan, feeling his calloused hands play with your sensitive buds. Your hips slowly started to grind on him. To your surprise, he was fully packing. Minus the gags you hear from Vegeta.

You heard him groan, causing you to grind harder onto him. With whatever liquid confidence you had, you leaned over and placed a lustful, drunken kiss on his lips. He groaned and pulled you closer to him. His usual cool body was burning up. Piccolo's eyes slowly started to fill with desire.

With a slightly aggravated grunt, Piccolo picked you up again and placed you on the floor. He mounted over you and leaned down, kissing you back deeply. He slowly started to place his hand into his bottoms, pulling out his well-endoubt member. You placed a hand on his chest, causing his attention to be focused mainly on you again.

"Am I…going too fast?" He huffs. You shook your head, reassuring him with a delicate stroke on his arm. You gently push him up onto his knees and stand up. He follows your lead, "Stand still for me and try not to be too loud, okay…~" He nods and tilts his head, feeling you get lower. "What are you doing (y/n)? - !!?" Piccolo grunted and nearly fell back on his knees.

You moaned as you slid Piccolo's member deeper into your mouth. He let out a low whine and placed a hand on your head. You closed your eyes and pulled back, but before you could fully move away. Piccolo growled and jammed his way back into your mouth.

You squealed and grabbed onto his gi bottoms. He panted heavily and bucked his hips into your face. "I'm…sorry, but I need this!" Piccolo gasps harder, moaning out loudly. You were gagging and gurgling for him to slow down but to no avail. He threw his head back and let out a deep, throaty moan. Your eyes slowly roll back.

The light that peeked from under the closet door, enhanced the thin layer of sweat that coated Piccolo. Your teary eyes watched in awe as he rode out his orgasm in your throat. After a few minutes, he pulled away. Hunching over you to support himself on the wall, he opened his eyes to stare down at you. "Alright…" he started, picking you up and placing you against the wall. "Why don't we get started for real?~"

Your breath quivered as he easily undid your pants. You quickly moved around in his muscular arms to help him. He only chuckled and exhaled, sensing your pheromones. You looked back up at him, your buzz was slowly fading but you didn't feel like you needed it. Piccolo's dark eyes leered upon you, only making you feel smaller than usual. His gaze was similar to a wolf's, longing as if he was hungry for something.

You wrapped your arms around him. Immediately, he pushed you more against the wall before he slid you down onto his throbbing cock.

You both groaned at the feeling. He grits his teeth, feeling as if he won't be able to fit inside of you. "You're..so damn tight!" He exclaimed. You whimpered under him, feeling too full to speak. Without hesitation, he vigorously pounded into you. You squealed out, covering your mouth. Piccolo was losing his cool quicker than he had hoped. His mind grew foggy. He didn't feel like himself. He felt more feral.

You could feel him in your stomach. You squeezed your eyes shut as he kept brutishly thrusting into you. When he stopped, your eyes slowly opened, and looked back at him. Piccolo's pupils were blown out. His chest heaved. You studied what you could of him in the dark. Before you got a word out, he swiftly positioned you on the ground.

"You make a monster out of me (y/n)…" The Namekian snarled, raising your legs higher. He nearly had you in a pretzel. Your knees easily touched your ears. He eyed you more and more, taking in every piece of you. "I could take you for all myself…I wouldn't let you see the light of day again…~ You could be all mine." He leaned back over you, caging you in the mating press. With a keen foresight, he jammed his cock back into you. You threw your head back and cried out his name.

Piccolo couldn't help but laugh, mercilessly hammering into you. Your g-spot was being beaten and bruised. "Prepare for a heavy pounding, human…I hope you don't mind - but I won't be going so easy on you anymore. Now that I know you can take my cock!" He huffed out, mewling and howling at the feeling. You were so wet and accepting, he needed more. He wanted to be in you forever.

Piccolo bit his lips and jolted, cumming quicker than expected. He pummeled you more and more, drooling at the slick feeling. Quickly, he sat up and adjusted himself. He held you down, propping himself on one knee while resting his arm on the other. Without leaving you, he easily placed you into doggy and quickly picked his pace back up. "I'm not letting a single drop of my cum leave you! And neither shall you, got it?" He asked sternly. The heavy claps for your skin contact nearly drove you wild. You couldn't answer until a firm smack across your ass woke you up. "Answer me. Now." He ordered. You whimpered more, tears practically coming from your eyes. You nodded your head and looked back at him. Piccolo hissed, feeling you get tighter as he slapped your rear.

He started to get more amped. Latching onto your hips with his nails, he continued the rapid onslaught. You wanted to wail out, scream for him to slow down, cry out the intensity of this. However, you couldn't help but melt with each thrust. The fact that he can send you to King Kai's planet and back then to Namek was crazy to you. Your insides started to burn up. "K-keep…hitting that spot!~" You panted out, trying to make your voice heard. The Demon King glared down at you, grabbing you by the hair. "Speak up, bitch…I don't think I heard you." You nearly came on the spot but roared out. "Make me cum!! Please! Let me cum!~"

Piccolo grew a wicked smile and chuckled darkly. Nearly putting you in a chokehold but still easing up for you to breathe, he clashed his hips to your ass harder than ever. "If that's the case, I'll happily oblige but say my name!" You were biting your lip so hard, you thought you were drawing blood. He snarled and used his other hand to pinch your hardened nipples. "Speak!"

He really did it now. His gruff voice, his larger body hugging onto you and the nonstop feeling of his dick tip kissing your cervix. You were quickly unraveling. "D-Demon King!~ Please fucking me harder!~ Make me c-cum!!~" He whined, riding out your orgasm. Your hips tried to match his pace but were shaking too much to keep up.

Piccolo on the other hand was a drooling, barking mess. He moaned out, feeling your walls tighten around him. "Oh..o-oh fuck! Fuck (y/n)!! That's it!~" He ruts himself as deep as he can go and cums, pumping you full of his hot seed. With each thrust, Piccolo's eyes looked down to see his seed spewing out from inside you. He grew hungry again as he watched a creamy ring around his cock form.

He placed his hand under your chin and pulled you back. He placed a deep kiss on your lips, sliding his thick purple tongue in; "You sure know how to treat a King…Let's see what else you're capable of.~"

**Please do not repost/claim/edit my stories story & title card by @rumblebat character(s) (c) Akira Toriyama tips + commission | wattpad

#rumblebat #self insert x canon #fanfic #fanfiction #self insert #dbz #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dbz piccolo #dbs #piccolo #piccolo x reader #piccolo dbz #piccolo jr #wattpad #dbz x reader

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bowieandqueen11 · 11 months

Text

Jesse Pinkman Being Jealous Would Include...

Request: omg so glad you’re writing for breaking bad rn cause i literally just started watching it and i’m obsessed 😭 could you do jealous jesse pinkman please? (hcs or a fic whatever you want)

Oh my gosh yay I'm really glad you started watching it!! If you haven't already you 100% have to watch Better Call Saul afterwards it's one of my favourite shows of all time! :)

Warning: spoilers for later seasons of the show! Mentions of drugs, mentions of drinking/alcohol, mentions of burn injuries, light swearing, mentions of trauma!

(I do not own Breaking Bad or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @tilldeathdousart.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Baby boy, baby boy. meow meow cat man. its so hard writing you as jealous because i feel if anyone started flirting with your s/o you would just break down crying and honestly same we love an in touch with his emotions king loml honestly

Jesse has always been the jealous type. Hot headed. Easily wound up by bullies ten times his size and a thousand times more ferocious and cutthroat than he had ever tried to be. Almost as easily as he had slipped into that easy routine of being ass over heels, devastatingly in love with you. The kind where every night, he tosses and turns in his mildew spelling bed, plagued by thoughts of doing nothing all day but sloppily kissing your lips between blunts. The kind where he has to stare up at the sky after he's been caught staring, until his retinas burn the sunlight into the back of his skull, yet the pain is nowhere near as cataclysmic as the hurricane your smile brings to his heart.

He had far too many years to temper it, to try and smother his love, and yet over time he seemed to get worse and worse and worse at stopping it from choking at his throat. He wasn't so bad during high school: sure, you found him a little odd, the way he would brag to his friends in the corridor about how he'd never 'studied a day in my life, man!', and yet in Chemistry he would be chewing the edge of his pen and scribbling furiously down on his paper during the end of term quiz.

He was terrible at tempering it, and you were terrible at seeing it.

Little did you know, that all the words he scratched down with his shaking hand were either complete guesses, or absolute gibberish. He had no idea what the paper was even supposed to be on, but you were sitting beside him, and so he wanted to look as smart in front of you as he possibly could. Bless his heart, to everyone else he was so obvious: Mr White would just peer over his shoulder and shake his head, his mouth in a lined frown as he watched Jesse peer like a meerkat over the side of the desk to stare at you from behind his slipping down beanie.

Some of his friends, his 'gang' as he liked to call them, were snickering from a couple of benches behind at the way he was trying to look clever by placing his fist under his chin, but his elbow kept slipping off the edge thanks to his baggy hoody. Even Justin Treller, the guy sitting to your right, and the kid Jesse was getting more and more annoyed with every time he leant over to whisper something in your ear, was evidently enjoying the way the tips of Jesse's ears were beginning to burn with embarrassment.

Eventually, when you began giggling at the things Justin was leering further and further towards you to murmur, Jesse began to snap. That's when he began doing stupid shit to make you laugh, like plugging the tube in and flicking his hand through the Bunsen Burner flame to try and impress you with his pain tolerance. When Jesse inevitably ended up being sent to the nurse's office for such a dumbass idea, he was wincing so harshly at the pain that he nearly tore through his bottom lip, leaving a nice scar. You volunteered to bring him down, spending half of your lunch period taking care of him.

He sat caved in on himself, trying to make himself as small a target as possible on one of the fold out chairs. He was obviously embarrassed, by the way his voice kept cracking each time you tightened some of the new dressing over his fingers. Mainly he was talking to try and distract you from the way his hands were shaking, so desperate to reach out and brush over your cheek that he nearly sobs with the effort. He also doesn't want you to notice how pathetic he looks: how he so subconsciously prepares himself for the mental barrage from his mother, or the physical threats from the people he deals with out in the streets, that he looks like a meek kitten sitting there with his palms down on his knobbly kneecaps.

He had known then, of course. He had known, as you pressed your lips chastely against the back of his sore knuckles, and giggled at the way his cheeks immediately flushed like a blooming snapdragon, that you would always be the love of his life. The only thing, behind the emotional neglect, the gossip, the drugs, the constant damn pressure, that he truly had chosen to care about. Which is why, after he bought his parents house and asked if you'd want to live in it, free of rent, he was shocked that you said yes.

Good things don't usually happen to this boy. And seeing how you were the best of all, he had to swallow his heart and just smile at your words, terrified he was going to ruin you.

I mean, living there at first had been easy enough. You had been round (or smuggled in by Jesse) so many times since that day in the nurse's office, that it felt like a second home to you. His parents, while they had still been speaking to Jesse, had absolutely adored you. They would always be teasing their son during family dinners about how he had been saving up doing his *wink wink* 'paper rounds' late at night, just so he could save up for the big wedding he was planning. Blushing ferociously, Jesse would duck his head down until his forehead banged against the tablecloth, begging his mom with that tired drawl to 'please... just stop'.

Somehow, somehow you just... never saw it. Perhaps you were laughing too much at the way Jesse's father was pretending to elbow his son to notice. Maybe, you were trying to cover your own eyes in mortification. I'm not sure, but I do know that you never seemed to notice the gut-wrenching look of pure hope Jesse would throw your way, once he had mustered the strength to peek his head up again.

While he shook his head and bit at the corner of his fingernail, while he poked and prodded at his escaping garden peas, while he took an awkward sip of his water and pretended to glance around the table. He was always looking your way, as if you had tied his heart to a string, his compass pointing him north, directing him back to his true home. His eyes would just linger on you like a listless man possessed from between the prongs of his fork, stabbing harshly at the plate in time with his thudding heart.

His heart sure was beating now. So ferociously, he thought it was about to splinter and explode out of his chest, implanting the chards everywhere until they were all that was left in memory of him. He knew you were getting sick of the constant parties. Of him being dazed 24/7. Of not knowing why he lashed out all the time. He knew it wasn't fair, but every time he closed his eyes he just saw Gale's pleading eyes beginning to burn itself into the safe memories he kept in the back of his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't breathe from all the sobbing. He couldn't even think in peace. So he just bit the cap off another beer bottle and fell down heavily on the edge of his brand new thousand dollar sofa, imprisoning himself in self-isolation despite being lost amidst a sea of people.

It was right at that moment you decided to try and brave down the stairs, having to hold onto the bannister for dear life as you jumped down each step, the bass vibrating through the walls until they shook. As you peered over mountains of baggie hoodies and tripped over lumps of passed out people on the floor in your effort to try and find Jesse, you accidentally bumped into the back of one of Skinny Pete's friends. You apologised as he turned around, which would have been fine if he hadn't taken one look at you and decided you were his main entertainment for the night. The smell of stale weed and lukewarm beer radiated off his sour breath as he leant down to rasp against the shell of your ear, sending a chill rolling down your back. You tried to compress your shoulders and squeeze past him, but the guy would not stop trying to grab onto your waist and pull you back, staring very blatantly down at your chest.

You knew Jesse had been shoved into the deep end of some shady business recently, but the way he had been acting over the last while had been frightening you. So despondent. So careless. To come home every day and find him almost completely blazed out of his mind on the floor, seemingly not recognising you as he failed to respond to your greeting. Not realising that as soon as you wandered into the kitchen to put the groceries away, those desperate, love strung eyes were following your heels. He nearly cried out for you, voice hoarse and heavy in the back of his throat.

If he had mustered the energy, he would have gotten onto his hands and knees and crawled like a baby on the floor to follow after you. The way you would beg him at 2 a.m. to turn down the music, and he would just grab at your hands and try to get you to join in his terrible on the spot jump-dancing. You never discerned how heartbroken he seemed to be when you jolted back from him as if shot; his bottom lip would quiver and he would sink to his knees when your bedroom door finally slammed shut.

He couldn't take it. He couldn't take it anymore. First it had been his parents. Then the drugs. Then Mr. White, Gus, Gale, Mike, Saul, the pressure just kept building up and up and up and he didn't know how to escape it. Too cowardly to run away, just as he had always been resigned into believing you could never love him back. Too submissive. Too easily used. And now, now there was barely anything left of him. Sometimes, sometimes that scared kid would try to crawl out of his throat when he was alone at night, but he would just choke on his tears in the darkness until he had drowned him again.

So what does he do? Gets off his face drunk, and throws another mind numbingly monotonous party until the walls start spinning and he doesn't even know who's coming through those doors anymore. Hell, he still half expects his mother to come busting through, chiding him for having drugs in the house. For having you in the house, with such company present. For being a coward.

Now he had just brought more trouble on himself. If the company he now decided to keep didn't get his hands off you in approximately ten seconds, you were going to knock him on his ass in front of all his little buddies.

Thankfully, Jesse seemed to have a sixth sense as to when you were in trouble, and he had been steadily keeping his beady eyes on you ever since you reached the top step. Before you could shove the guy back, Jesse's already doing it for you. As soon as he’s by your side you can tell he’s wound up: not by the way he comes striding over, shouting over the beat and lowering his head as if he’s about to headbutt the guy. Not from the way his hand flies in his face, or the swears, the long string of increasingly ridiculous ‘bitch’ related insults he calls him, but from the way he looks so, so tired. He looks on the verge of tears, his eyes bloodshot as he brushes gently past you to start shoving the guy out the front door, yelling above the music to shepherd everyone else out as well.

'Jesse... seriously, you need to tell me what's going on, right now.'

When the door finally slams shut, you know him well enough that the best thing to do is just let his head cool down for a minute. When he was younger, that used to involve ringing you up whenever his parents had threatened to kick him out again; you would come clambering over the picket fencing lining his immaculately manicured side-yard to see him sitting on the edge of his windowsill, smoke rings blowing out the side of his mouth as he waited in the dark for you to arrive. His hand would shake as he hefted you up from the piping by his bedroom wall, awkwardly landing you down half on his feet as he would just stay beside you all night. He would speak from time to time, asking you about what you wanted to do once you managed to escape from this dump ass town. But mainly, he just leaned his head back and listened to your voice, gazing up at the faraway stars as if it were the only place he could possibly be truly free.

But now, he was far worse off than you ever could have imagined. He hunched over, as if he had a spiked collar weighted around his neck as he lumbered past you, crawling down onto the floor. He drew his knees up to his chest as he sat back against his brand new surround sound speaker, ducking his head into the gap and clawing at the back of his neck until you worried he was about to draw blood.

It was horrifying, hearing how he gasped between retching sobs as you sunk down on the floor next to him.

You tentatively reached out to place a hand on his back, kicking an empty pizza box out of the way with your foot so you could sit with the side of your thigh touching his. As soon as you made contact, he leapt at you like a rabid dog, clawing and clenching and biting his teeth into his shirt as he fell onto your chest.

‘Please. Please don’t leave me’, he gasped out between heaving cries, looking up at you with eyes so dejected, it were as if someone had stifled out the blinding stars once in them with dark clouds. Bits of saliva stuck between his teeth as he screwed his eyes shut once again and began bawling even harder, falling like a broken bird as you held the back of his head and guided it down to rest just above your breast bone.

‘I love you’, he starts sobbing, fists bunching up the material at the back of your shirt. It was you. It always has been. And if you walked out that door with the rest of them, he had nothing left. He would willingly roll over, and let himself just rot away.

You sure as hell saw it now.

Eventually, after you rock him back and forth against the floorboards for a while and just cradle him in a way he’s never experienced during his years on earth, he becomes more placid against you. It helps that at some point, you had absentmindedly begun to trace the silvery wisp of an outline that had been left on his bottom lip all those years ago, your pointer finger glancing back and forth as it quivered. He was almost entirely curled against you now, pretending to be asleep so you wouldn’t stop, but his breath froze when he heard you whisper ‘I love you too’ against the top of his hair.

He’ll feel really sheepish the next day when he finally wakes up, peering round the corner with his hand behind his head when he spots you trying to straighten out the crick in your neck after a night spent on the floor. He’ll come apologizing with his go to breakfast: a childhood favourite of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup; they were the kind his mom would make if she were in a good mood at the weekends. When he would sit at the table the morning after you slept over, watching stupid cartoons his brother had put on the small television, grinning to himself as some dripped down his chin. It had been the happiest he had been in his life.

Although he still has that boyish, soulful smile on his face as he sits criss-cross down beside you, you can tell that he’s still plagued by how wet his eyes are: how heavily he’s blinking.

‘I really do love you, you know that right?’, you whisper, taking the plate from him.

‘Yeah, I do.’

Suddenly your fork goes crashing to the floor, forgotten about as you lean forward to kiss him, nearly surprising the heck out of him as his teeth clash against yours. He’s quick to reach up and tenderly, oh god, so gently cradle the side of your cheeks, but that’s soon abandoned as he readily allows you to guide him until his back is against the floorboards. You clamber over until you’re almost straddling him, beginning to smile yourself as you feel him grin against your top lip, the soft peals of his giggles breaking out against the surface of your tongue as you dip down against him.

And suddenly, his life seemed like it was worth fighting for again. He was going to get out of this. He was going to escape. He was going to win. Not for himself, but for you.

#breaking bad #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman imagine #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman headcanons #breaking bad imagine #aaron paul #skinny pete #badger #walter white #gus fring #saul goodman #jesse breaking bad #jesse breaking bad imagine #jealousy fic #x reader #breaking bad fanfic #breaking bad fanfiction

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doumadono · 7 months

Note

K with Kacchan and make it super angsty, you know I like it when it's bad and hurting 😏

Warnings: blood, death, f!Reader, rather off-canon (I guess?)

A/N: I had a feeling you'd choose something like this! Honestly, writing these scenes hit me hard. Kacchan's death was heartbreaking for me, and I'm sure for many others too. I hope you enjoy this little ficlet! The inspiration for this ficlet came from the following post

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST

The battlefield was a chaotic swirl of dust and debris, a maelstrom of destruction that mirrored the turmoil within your heart. The acrid stench of smoke and burning rubble hung heavy in the air as you fought alongside Bakugo and others, your fellow hero students from Class 1A. The battle against All For One and Shigaraki had reached a fever pitch, and the ground beneath you trembled with the force of the clashes.

In the midst of the chaos, Bakugo fought with the ferocity that defined him, explosions erupting from his palms as he unleashed his volatile Quirk upon the villains. The deafening sounds of combat echoed in your ears, but in that cacophony, you heard Bakugo's voice, sharp and determined.

"Stay focused, dammit!" he barked, his crimson eyes ablaze with intensity.

You nodded, determination coursing through your veins. Together, you were a force to be reckoned with. However, in the blink of an eye, the tide of battle shifted. Shigaraki, fueled by hatred and power, lunged at you with a speed that defied belief. In the desperate attempt to protect you both, Bakugo stepped in front of you, taking the full force of Shigaraki's attack.

Time slowed as you witnessed the horrifying sight. Shigaraki's hand pierced through Bakugo's chest, leaving a gaping wound. The explosion hero staggered, his eyes widening in shock and pain. You screamed his name, a guttural cry that blended with the chaos of the battlefield.

"Bakugo!!!"

He turned to you, his expression a mix of agony and determination. Blood seeped through his fingers as he clutched the wound, but he managed a strained smile. "Don't… don't lose it, idiot," he grunted, his voice strained.

Bakugo's strength waned, and his once-fierce posture faltered. His knees buckled beneath the weight of his injuries, and with a heart-wrenching groan, he sank to the ground.

"No! Bakugo!" Your scream tore through the chaos, a desperate plea for aid. The sound echoed in the air, carrying the weight of your fear and anguish. As Bakugo crumpled to the ground, you rushed to his side, the world around you a blur of smoke and devastation.

Kneeling beside him, you felt a surge of helplessness. His breathing was ragged, each labored inhale a painful reminder of the life slipping away. Blood stained his uniform, pooling beneath him. Panic welled within you, but you pushed it down, focusing on the urgent need for assistance. "Someone! Anyone! Help!" Your cries echoed, reaching the ears of those still engaged in the battle.

Edgeshot rushed towards you, his expressions shifting from determination to concern as he took in the scene. The gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, a tangible force that demanded action.

Bakugo lay motionless on the ground, his eyes half-lidded, the spark of life still stubborn and flickering.

You clung to his hand, unwilling to let go. Your fingers intertwined with his, the contact a lifeline in a sea of uncertainty. Your eyes never leaving Bakugo's face.

Tears blurred your vision as you fought to comprehend the gravity of the situation. You knelt beside him, your hands trembling as you tried to apply pressure to the wound. Bakugo's breaths were labored and shallow, and the world around you felt like it was collapsing.

"I'm not leaving you," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Stay calm, please, don't say anything."

Bakugo's hand reached slowly for yours, his grip surprisingly weak. Despite the agony etched across his face, there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes. "Damn right… you're not," he replied, a defiant edge to his words. "Y/N, I..."

The battlefield continued to rage around you, but your focus narrowed to the man before you, the one you couldn't bear to lose. You whispered words of reassurance, encouragement, and love, hoping against hope that he could hold on.

"I need you," you confessed, your voice barely audible over the chaos, tears streaming down your dusted cheeks. "I love you so much, Kacchan," you cried.

Bakugo's gaze locked with yours, a silent understanding passing between you. As Bakugo's consciousness teetered on the edge, his grip on your hand tightened despite his hand shaking. "Kick… their… asses… for me…" he rasped, a faint smile playing on his lips. "... my beautiful... P-princess..."

You nodded, your heart shattering as his eyes fluttered, the light within dimming. "Bakugo, stay with me," you pleaded, your voice cracking with a mixture of fear and sorrow. "Stay with me, baby, please!"

His gaze met yours, but the fierce determination that once defined him now mingled with a profound weariness. A ragged cough wracked his body, and you could see the struggle etched across his face. His eyelids, heavy with fatigue, fluttered as he fought to maintain consciousness as he life was gradually escaping his body. "I… tried," he managed to gasp, the words escaping in strained intervals.

Tears welled in your eyes as you listened to his fading voice, a symphony of pain and regret.

You cradled Bakugo's head in your hands, your touch a feeble attempt to anchor him to the present. The sounds of distant explosions and the clash of Quirks became distant echoes as the world narrowed to the two of you. In those final moments, every shared smile, every heated argument, and every whispered promise flashed before your eyes.

"Bakugo, please, don't give up," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the cacophony of battle, and your tears dripping to his forhead.

His grip on your hand weakened, fingers slipping through yours like grains of sand. In that agonizing stillness, Bakugo succumbed to the pull of unconsciousness. His body, once a vessel of explosive power and indomitable spirit, slumped against the unforgiving ground.

You knelt beside him, a silent witness to the cruel dance of life and death. The weight of grief settled on your shoulders, and as you clung to the fragile hope that he might awaken, the reality of the situation pressed down on you, heavy and unrelenting.

"Y/N… He's gone," Edgeshot whispered, looking up at you with sadness. "He's gone."

Tears streamed down your face, unchecked and unrestrained. The sobs wracked your body, a raw outpouring of grief that threatened to suffocate you. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, but it was a distant concern compared to the pain in your heart.

Amidst the anguish, a voice cut through the haze. It was Edgeshot. "I might have an idea, a way to help," he offered, his voice a thread of hope in the darkness.

You lifted your tear-streaked face, eyes locking with his. "It's not possible," you choked out, your voice a raw plea born of despair. The ground beneath you bore the scars of battle, soaked in the lifeblood of a hero. "He's fucking dead!!!"

Edgeshot knelt beside you, his gaze unwavering. "I'll do everything in my power to save him. Trust me," he vowed, his words cutting through the veil of hopelessness.

"No, you don't understand!" you screamed, desperation lacing your voice. "There's nothing anyone can do!"

Edgeshot placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his tone firm yet compassionate. "I won't let him go without a fight. I'll find a way, but I can't lose time anymore. You need to calm down and return to the battlefield, you're needed there, Y/N. I won't give up on saving him. Whatever it takes," the hero vowed, his determination cutting through the despair.

You looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity, and as you locked gazes, a flicker of reluctant hope ignited within you. The world may have been stained with blood and tears, but in that moment, you clung to the promise that Edgeshot held — a promise to fight against the inevitable, to defy the cruel hand of fate, and to bring back the hero who lay on the precipice of oblivion.

As the battle reached its crescendo, you rose from Bakugo's side, a storm of conflicting emotions raging within you. The echoes of his words fueled your resolve. You would honor his sacrifice, fight for justice, and carry the weight of his love into the fray. With tears streaming down your face, you re-entered the chaos, your heart heavy but your spirit unbroken. The battle continued, but Bakugo's presence lingered, a poignant reminder of the cost heroes paid in their pursuit of a safer world.

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haechurch · 2 years

Text

[8:54 pm] | lee haechan

suggestive, fluff, 1k+ words ‣ in which you're ticklish af.

you are weird. that’s what you think about yourself. ‘how can people have sex, or the most important thing: doing the foreplay, without laughing out loud?’ cause damn, you’re so sensitive about touching, it makes you genuinely itchy.

itchy from not writhing like a hot worm in a scorching summer. that many times when you’re making out with someone lead into things unwanted. the moment they reached for your waist or if they tried to touch you more, you squeal and eluding them which starting from there, they stared at you, confused (maybe pretty much in disbelief of that situation, most of them even think that you're weird..) and it just got awkward afterwards. and because you're stupid, you didn't even be able to explain or tell them that you're literally sensitive or whatever. god, you’re not gonna let that happen again-

“-but i can’t help it even when i'm trying. i know it’s just in my nature, but i feel like i can't healed from it." you let an exasperated sigh. don't know why're you look really frustrated because of this shit. "i don’t know,” you shrug. “honestly, i think i'm just weird.”

you rambled to haechan and didn’t realize that he was smiling against his red cup before he put it back on the table. he knows that it's your sexual frustration speaking.

“first of all, you don't need to be healed because you're not sick, second of all, i don’t think that you're weird. it’s not even a problem if you’re a ticklish person. you just still haven't gotten used to it.” he blinked with a smile. you just cock him an eyebrow with an expression that likely told him: ‘you think so? cause whatever you’re saying i think that’s a bullshit, because-’

"-haechan, i'm technically spent all of my life having physical touch with people i've met but i still can't get used to it. i think something's wrong with me." you pout.

haechan let out a soft sigh and kissed his teeth before he speak. “tell me, y/n, how many times you’ve been fucking around with someone?” haechan asked. you almost choked on your drink at his question. “what?” you look at him in disbelief for his blunt saying, meanwhile the red haired boy's just snickers. “like i said, maybe that’s because you’re just not used to it. of course you spent all of your life having physical touch, but the thing is, where were they touch you, right? but you have no one to try on.. or to learn from.”

your mind was answering him by a thought of 'uhh what should i probably learn?' but then remain silent, thinking for a while before you open your mouth to say something.

but he’s right. it’s actually not necessary to think when you don’t even have any memories of getting physical touch to the state of hooking up with someone. all you did in high school (until now) was just simply making out.. can't even get to the next stage because-you know why.

haechan's smirking at your silence, knowing very well you’re that innocent. “you know what? maybe it’s also because you haven’t met the right one to treat you right. to make you feel good, not to make you feel that you're weird, because you're not. and for fucks sake, there's nothing wrong with you, babe. i promise.”

babe? fuck. what's gotten into him? you felt your cheeks burning, you never saw this side of haechan before. haechan leaned closer when he saw you bit your lower lip evidently nervous and whispered right into your ear, “wanna try something with me? i can get you used to it." you try to look at him with your peripheral vision, cheeks almost touched. "you can use me as you please, how's that sound?” he offered.

“h-h-what?” you stuttered, then he placed his palm against your neck and jaw to slide onto your nape, making you jolt and immediately sandwiched his hand between your cheek and shoulder. he chuckled and smirking so wickedly that you felt butterfly on your stomach, you didn't even realize you squeezed your thighs together as a reflex.

“it’s okay. i got you. you wanna feel good. wanna make you feel good. would you let me?”

he’s being fucking flirty! and he can't be looking this sweet and hot at the same time!!

ah, you're doomed.

you kissed him hungrily before he kissed you back. tucking his hair as the two of you making out with passion, tongue dancing with each other. in a second you’re already under him, lying flatly on the sofa. he started to nuzzle in between your neck, and you gasped as you closed your eyes, trying to relax albeit it felt very ticklish. haechan raised his head and saw you shut your eyes tightly and smile to himself, so fucking cute he thought.

haechan then attacks your neck again, licking a stripe before sucking onto the flesh, you shriek and fastly cover your mouth with a widened eyes, but what haechan did next making you moan in a heartbeat, feeling oddly good although you're currently wriggling like crazy. yet haechan is unbothered. with his strength, he keep you stay still and caged under him.

he then give butterfly kisses to your exposed shoulder and collarbone, painting a little bruises here and there. when he’s getting lower and lower, he hike your shirt up and giving your abdomen a kiss as he palm at the surface, you yelp and giggling out loud while arching your back in a flash.

haechan just laughed at you. you felt embarrassed, but you stare at him through your lashes and saw that he laugh at you so fondly, all while he finally saying out loud, "you’re so fucking cute," then he kissed your abdomen once more.

you jolt again. chest heaving from enduring all the electrifying feelings caused by haechan. "goddamn, lee haechan," you sigh in bliss, can't even stop smiling at this point.

and he keeps laughing!

"don't make fun of me!"

"i don't! you're just too cute." again, he just laughed heartily, and in this moment you realize that his smiling figure is just so pretty.

you brush his hair as you stare at him in awe, and then he stopped laughing. his gaze become intense, haechan then positioned himself between your thighs, spreading it all while you squirming and giggling extensively.

after getting eye level with your clothed pussy, he stare at you with half lidded eyes, a sneer plastered on his face.

“let’s make a new sensation you’ve never felt before, shall we?”

anyways haechan red hair

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gaylordscooter · 2 months

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Log of the Multiverse: Nightmare

hoo boy i got shivers just writing down their name.

i'm doing their entry before dream's because, like ink, i'll let him write his own. too bad he's so incredibly busy all the time

now nightmare, his brother, the guardian of negativity. they're terrifying. i can't believe they're dream's twin. they hardly even look like a skeleton.

Thankfully they're nowhere NEAR as active as Dream is. in fact, it's a rare sight to see them for the average person. unfortunately i'm with a group of loony people that happen to be the only people nightmare would seek out from time to time.

i actually got a sticky note i wrote on after i encountered them for the first time

[there's a somewhat crumpled sticky note taped on, it reads:

their touch hurts, presumably because of the goop (speaking of goop. no idea what it's made out of). reminds me of the time i spilt hydrochloric acid on my foot on accident. however, it doesn't actually leave a wound or lasting pain, like touching fire without getting burned

you’ll know they're near when you get a heavy feeling in your soul, similar to blue magic but if it hated you.

negative feelings fuel them. it’s like their food. would being happy drive them away?

they don't kill as long as they find you useful apparently im “a cesspool of anxiety and guilt that provides a plentiful amount of energy”. i hope they choke on my feelings.]

i forgot about that last bit. moving on

they've caused quite a bit of commotion back in their peak. they were on par with error in terms of disturbing universes. they just had. different methods (such as, killing loved ones in front of people, making people live out their worst fears, spilling people's very important secrets, manipulating people who are close to hate each other, ruining the happy endings of many universes) they're a lot more sadistic than error. i suppose that makes sense. they ARE the guardian of negativity.

now i was still in my universe while that was happening, i'm just paraphrasing what ink told me.

and then they just suddenly cut back. they stopped doing all of that.

ink expected this, obviously. he knew how their script goes. (of course he cant TELL me what happens in his script. he can only drop hints and even then he tries not to, to play it safe)

what i do know is that the balance between negativity and positivity is Very much out of wack. what i don't know is what the consequence of that is. yet.

I'm gonna go on a limb and say it's nothing good and buckle up for the ride.

wow it sure sucks knowing something bad is gonna happen and being powerless to stop it. how the hell does ink do it.

side note: ive been calling them the "guardian of negativity" but i don't actually know what that entails. same with dream's title as "guardian of positivity". honestly i don't think either of them know either.

i guess dream's positive all the time, like he can't even feel negative emotions

oh my god im stupid. he literally can't, can he?

then that would mean nightmare cant feel positive emotions. that's. wow. huh.

shit. well, i'm gonna have a chat with dream. or ink, if he doesn't want to talk.

#blue's (totally not diary) log #(btw these entries are out of order cus im sillayyy)

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dokeythings · 8 months

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|me to me| (dokyeom)

dokyeom is spending another night subjecting himself to what is equivalent to torture in his mind. his chest tightens as he holds you in his arms as you cry over some new guy, a situationship that ended brutally. you have been his best friend for years now, being so close that you both know everything about each other. dokyeom can't quite put a time cap on when everything changed, but he's been falling in love with you every single day for the last year. he's been here for you through everything, through every new guy and every date gone wrong. he wants to scream half the time. he wants to shake every single man who's ever gotten to go out with you and snap them into reality. how could they mess up so bad with the most wonderful girl he's ever known? if he was them, he would do it right. he'd never make you cry, that's for sure. you wouldn't be sitting here on a friday night with a broken heart.

"i just really thought he was going to be different this time" you say, choking on your words as you soak his hoodie with tears.

dokyeom sighs, his heart pinching at your sadness, wishing he could take it all away and absorb it for you. he changes his position on the couch, wrapping his arms around you tighter and scooping you into his lap.

"i know, i know. it's okay" he says, not knowing what else to say except to let you cry. you lift your head up off of him for a moment, noticing how wet you have made his hoodie. you feel bad, knowing this has happened one too many times. you are tired of guys leaving you broken like this.

"i'm sorry about that" you say, your eyes drifting down to where your tears soaked the fabric. you look back up at him, meeting his eyes as he shakes his head softly, giving you a shy smile as to say not to worry about it.

"he was an asshole. these douchebags don't deserve you, y/n." he speaks softly, but firmly. his eyes darken, feeling angry as he thinks about said douchebag, and how he would kill him if he could. i would treat you so much better, he thinks.

you shake your head, disagreeing. "i'm starting to think that maybe its me, kyeom" you admit honestly, laying your head back down on his shoulder. you don't get to rest it there for long as you feel his hand under your chin, lifting your face up to look at him.

he looks down at you, his eyes sad and gloomy, your self deprecating words feeling like a dagger through his chest.

"don't say that, y/n. please. you are the most amazing girl, they are fucking stupid" he says, releasing his hand from your chin and running a hand through his own hair. you can see the frustration written all over his face. you're not sure what exactly is causing it, but you are sure that he must be tired of having to comfort you like this all the time. you scoot off his lap and move onto the other side of the couch, pulling your legs up to your chest.

he watches as you create the distance between him, and he sinks deeper into the couch. he wants to tell you he loves you. he wants to tell you that you should be with him, and that he would give you everything you deserve. but he knows you don't feel the same, and he can't risk that. he would lose his best friend, and thats something too precious for him to mess up. he turns towards you, sitting criss cross on the couch as he thinks about how to proceed. you look at him as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, never successfully getting any words out.

"i know this is probably so annoying. i'm sorry, i should just go home" you mumble, pushing yourself up off the couch. you only make it a step before you feel dokyeom gently grab your wrist, pulling you back down.

he feels like crying, but bites his lip as the burning feeling in his throat takes over his mind. he feels like he fucked up, and he doesn't know how to fix it. he doesn't want you to go home. he wants you to stay here and lay with him until everything else disappears and you forget all about every guy who's ever hurt you.

"i just don't like to see you treated like this. i'm never annoyed, i'm always here for you. please don't push me away" he frowns, looking down at his lap.

you smile to yourself lightly, knowing that he means it when he says he's here for you. you can't think of a time where he wasn't here for you to fall back on, and you do the same for him in a heartbeat. he's always been very protective of you, something your friends always pointed out and constantly nagged you saying that he's in love. you would always roll your eyes, saying that he's your best friend, and you are sure he feels the same way.

he asks a shy "what?" as he notices your smile, fighting back a smile of his own.

"thank you for always being here for me" you say, meaning it and knowing you don't sat it enough.

"hey" he shrugs with a smile, "thats what best friends are for". he winces internally as he says the latter, forcing on a smile. your words were sweet, but he wishes he could be there for you in a different way. by the look on your face he can tell you still have things you want to get off your chest, but you're holding back. you can't hide anything from him anymore, he can read you like an open book. he knows you know that.

he moves closer to you on the couch, getting just close enough so that your knees are touching. "please let it all out" he urges softly, patting your knee.

you sigh, knowing you would feel better if you did. "i just don't understand why i can't find a good guy anywhere. is it too much to ask for someone who pays attention to me? someone who knows everything about me without having to say a word? i just want to have someone who feels like an extension of me. to be able to be in a room with them and sit in silence without it being awkward. to come home to someone everyday and feel loved for the first time. i want a guy who will know the perfect dates to take me on, and know my favorite food and my favorite book, and why i hate watching scary movies" you pause, realizing you've been talking for a really long time. "i'm sorry, i'm rambling" you mumble, feeling embarrassed.

you finally meet his eyes, seeing something in them you've never noticed before. he's fiddling with his fingers, biting his lip as if he's thinking if he wants to say what he's thinking or not.

"kind of sounds like me, to me" he finally says, so quietly that you almost don't make out what he said. you furrow your eyebrows, confused at the statement.

"what?" you ask, although you heard every word he said.

he looks up at you, feeling wavered confidence wash over him for a moment. it's now or never. he clears his throat, speaking louder this time.

"i said that kind of sounds like me" he says bravely, meeting my eyes. he moves in even closer to me, slowly. our legs are touching, and our bodies are only inches away. you feel your breath hitch as his face moves towards yours until he's centimeters away. you've never know how badly you truly wanted this until you notice the butterflies in your stomach, and how you think you might stop breathing. he puts his hand on your thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

"right now you are feeling nervous, and thinking about how weirdly good this feels, even though you've never wanted to admit it to yourself. your favorite food is fettuccine alfredo, even though it makes your stomach hurt every time, you always say that its worth it. your perfect date would be in the fall, finding a farm to go to where you can pick your own pumpkins. then you would want to go home and carve it together, after stopping for coffee at your favorite cafe, of course. your favorite book is little women, you've read it 4 times already and you've been thinking about starting it again. you hate scary movies so much because of that one time when you were 8 and your brother dressed up as michael myers and hid behind the basement door, jumping out at you after you went to grab more snacks." he stops, noticing a tear falling from your eye as you sniffle a bit.

"i can keep going" he whispers close to your lips, knowing that the single tear is that of happiness, and he would gladly make more fall if it meant that your heart was fluttering as much as his is. he wants to see you smile.

you sit there, his hand on your thigh sending heat flying up your whole body. you can't believe you've never seen it before. he's been the perfect man all along. he's been here the whole entire time, waiting for you to stop being an idiot and admit you've loved him since you first met him. you lean forward, closing the gap between your lips. god, you should have done this years ago.

dokyeom brings his hand up to your cheek, cupping your face as his lips move in harmony with yours. he smiles into the kiss, having to pinch himself to see if this is real life. this is all he's ever wanted. he deepens the kiss as he feels you squirm, wanting to be closer to him. he places his hands on your hips effortlessly pulling you into his lap. you've sat here a million times, platonically. but this is a feeling you never knew was possible. you wrap your arms around his neck, heat rising to your cheeks as he slides his tongue into your mouth. your lips move until you need to stop to catch your breath, although you wish you could go forever. you reluctantly pull away, inhaling dramatically as you get some air. he chuckles at you, bringing his hand down to your lower back.

"that good, huh?" he asks as he smirks at you. he could get used to this.

#dokyeom fluff #dokyeom imagines #dokyeom x reader #seventeen #dokyeom #dokyeom fanfic #lee seokmin #svt seokmin #svt dk #friends to lovers #dk

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thefrogsaregay · 1 year

Text

Masky x F!reader smut

{Hi all me again :), been crushing on Masky lately sooooo here it is hahaha}

{18+!! MINORS DNI}

{Trigger warning: sexual theme, sex without protection, BEN is his own warning, mentions of murder, death}

Huffing and whining, you yanked a body behind Masky towards a part of the forest, “God, man these guys are so heavy, "You groaned, turning around and fixing your grip. Masky stared in amusement, “maybe you should start training, you would uh…be able to carry them like me, ” He lifted his free arm and flexed, “Mm well, your mums gay, ” You puffed out, “Well my mums dead so..” he replied dropping the male he was holding, "Skill issue" you giggled to yourself, "What?.." He stared.

You blinked at him, "You.. it's like.. I don't know a meme? don't worry," you rolled your eyes and dropped the body four feet from the other one.

Starting the hike, you popped your fingers and back, "Man I'm fucked, or should be fucked, maybe both," You soughed out fixing your shirt, Masky coughed after processing what you said, "Aren't you and Jeff a thing?," he felt he was crossing a boundary, "Me and Jeff?," you choked out, "No, like we've fucked around a bit but we're just friends, we both joined Slendy as teenagers remember? we think like them too, like I'm supposed to be 24 but I'm stuck as little nineteen-year-old me," You shared staring ahead, "Ah okay…how did you-" "Don't.."

Laying on your bed you stared at the ceiling, zoning out, a knock on your door knocked you out of your trance. Sitting up you blinked at it, "Uh, yea..come in!" you hollered, "Hey can I come chill?" Masky leaned against your doorway, his neck exposed as he wore a grey T with red checkered pants, "Oh my god you do know slang" you snorted patting the other side of your bed. He shuffled over before laying across on his back, "I'm sorry if I pushed earlier, Toby was talking about catching you two and I got curious" He looked at his fingers, playing with the broken nails and skin, you forced a smile, "Nah you're good, I get it honestly but I wouldn't date Jeff, "You gagged, He looked over and chuckled.

A nice silence took over as you checked your phone, "You're beautiful," you snapped to look at him, your face heating up as you stared shocked, "..okay uh thank you" nervously answering you slid your phone onto your bedside table, "You're pretty good looking too honestly, it's kinda gross but I've pictured you while I've been with Jeff, to be honest," You layed against your headboard covering your mouth. He sat up to face you, "Actual?" he was red behind the mask, he had been needing you in more ways than one once he got to know you, hating you to begin with as you were a carbon copy of Toby, young and dumb but that changed a while back when you first killed someone you knew.

You looked away, "Yea, man like I don't know, I'm digging myself a hole," you whined.

he climbed between your feet before grasping your knees and dragging you to lay down, "Don't hide I feel the same, I've been thinking about you a lot lately, " He stared down at you, searching your eyes for any negative emotions, "Can I take off the mask…"You spoke out, a statement more than a question, it was coming off either way, he nodded kneeling between your legs.

You gripped the edge and pulled it off, he was staring at you, watching your every move, "Handsome" you smiled before sliding a hand onto his cheek against his side burn, sitting up you press your lips to his. He stalled before taking control, "Tell me when to stop," He whispered against your lips "I won't be speaking then" you whispered out before kissing him.

he sat up taking his shirt off before continuing, his hand slid down to your waist rubbing circles with his thumb, "Can I take your clothes off, "You asked quietly gripping his pants, "Of course baby, " He kissed you one last time before standing up with you following.

he leaned down kissing you holding your hips, your hands working to slide his pants and boxers down, feeling him strip you, "Lay down baby" He uttered sighing. You laid back getting comfy, spreading your legs as he settled between them, he slid his hand down gently playing with your clit, you hummed grabbing his hand, "Like this" You spoke gently guiding him to what you liked, "Of course" he kissed your neck gently toying with you copying what you showed him, "I need you Tim" you looked up at him through your lashed pleading. He swallowed before reaching over to grab your lube, applying a generous amount he pushed against your slit before sliding in, looking at you for any discomfort before bottoming out balls deep.

He breathed shakily waiting for approval to move, he stared at where you were joined before looking at you to find you were already staring, "Please .."You begged quietly grabbing at his bicep and holding a hand over your chest, he began moving slowly to gain a rhythm, pleasure overtaking him at the pleasure he had flowing through him. He hooked an arm around a thigh pressing it forward with him as his left hand rested next to your head, hair dangling and swaying with each movement.

You held your other thigh spreading it open wider for the man above you, "Baby I'm- oh my god" He grunted out moving his hips faster, he reached down playing with your clit to help you reach your peak, "Tim I'm so close please it's right there" You gritted your teeth concentrating, eyes rolling back as you felt the coil so close to breaking, "Just hold no I'm right behind you" He moved quicker surprising that he could move that fast, changing position he grabbed both thighs leaning back and slamming into you, head hurled back.

You leaned forward into him digging your nails into his arm as you came, a broken moan escaped as you titled your head down, he pushed you back down before pulling out and jerking off before coming over your stomach, "I'm- hah I'm so sorry I didn't know where you wanted it" He leaned over you breathing heavily, "That's all g my guy" You pushed his hair back before dropping your arm.

You giggled as he cleaned you, looking up at you he quirked an eyebrow, "What?" he asked looking back down, You watched happily, "So uh…hoes before bros aye?" He looked up bewildered before realising Brian had been waiting for him, "Fuck…he'll be alright" He hoped silently.

stepping off your bed he slid his clothes on and gripped his mask, leaning down he kissed you gently, "I think us proxies are wanted so I gotta run I'm sorry, " You stared up at him, "You're alright" you stood up to get dressed. he stepped out of the room and instantly smiled before heading to the big man's office, "Where the fuck were you?!" Hoodie growled out stepping around the corner, Masky stared at him sliding his mask on, "Getting laid bitch" he chuckled crossing his arm, "No way" Hoodie and Masky exchanged conversation like teenage boys.

You stared around and smiled blushing, not noticing the face in the T.V.

#creepypasta #tim masky #hoodie #smut #masky x reader #masky x reader smut #ben drowned #ticci toby #masky x F!reader #masky x F!reader smut'

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1-800-local-slut · 7 months

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All I Want (3/3)

(I know it's not technically a picture of Dean, but Jensen Ackles is so handsome)

Dean Winchester x Black! Fem! Reader (One-sided)

Sam Winchester x Black! Fem! Reader

Warnings: one sided love, pining, reader and Sam get horny and leave Dean to himself, Dean tries to move on and fails miserably, Dean thinks badly about himself, drinking, Dean wants reader bad but she's in love with Sam, Dean's really scared and really guilty, drinking and driving (don't drink and drive kids, always have a designated driver!) reader wears jewelry, most (if not all) of the female characters have a lot of accessories (lipgloss, nails, lashes, mascara, jewelry) because a lot of my works are self-indulgent and I'm a girly-girl so I like being dressed up and having a lot of accessories on so if its not for you just ignore it

Part 3 of 3! Thank you to everyone who read and commented, I'm so happy this series did so well. I honestly wasn't expecting it, I had literally nothing planned when I wrote it and just winged it. Thank you and enjoy the final part!

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He can remember when it all started. For weeks he had lost sleep when Sam announced that he was in love with his girlfriend of nine months. It was when they were on a hunt and the two narrowly made it back. He always thought Sam's girlfriend was cute, but he didn't know it was this bad. He ignored the fluttering of his heart the best he could for weeks. He ignored the way he always wanted to smile at her whenever she was near by.

He can remember the first night he realized how awful his entire predicament really was.

"She's cute, right babe?" She asked, wrapping her arms around Sam's neck, while she sat comfortably on his lap. The three looked at a dark skinned woman with blonde, curly braids with some very elaborate and fancy eyeliner.

"Sure." Sam responded, more focused on the feel of her thighs under his calloused palms. The couple was sitting in a booth at a club in Georgia, and like always she'd found her spot on Sam's lap. Tonight was different though.

A very uncomfortable feeling radiated through Dean, the look in Sam's eyes made his stomach turn. He stared at his girlfriend with an intense heat that made Dean feel like he was intruding on the two. His eyes a dark, lustful green, as his hands run up and down her thighs. Stopping just below her dress. Her eyes radiated the same desire, and she was staring at his hands. It was like seeing the opening to a porno that Dean would sooner carve his eyes out than watch.

Turning his head, he grabbed another shot and tilted his head back. The tequila burned the back of his throat, and he choked a bit. She giggled at his gagging, and Sam gave a small smile while holding onto her waist. Dropping his head back after he cleared his chest, he began to draw small symbols on the table. His heart felt like it was in his throat, the liquor not the only thing burning in his chest. It was worse on nights like this. The nights where he could see their desire for each other. At least they weren't at home, and Dean could escape to his own motel room.

"Dean, you should make a move. She's looking at you." She pointed out, while she fidgeted with her glass. Dean stopped staring at the table, looking up at the woman. He turned, the flashing lights of the club giving him a small headache. He was getting older everyday.

"Oh. Yeah." He responded glumly. No doubt the woman was beautiful. Her eyes looked so dark it was like looking into pools of ink. Her blonde curly ends were basically motioning for him to come hither. This could work.

In the past few weeks, Dean found the resolve to try and move on. Why pine over a woman he could never have when there were so many he could have? He was Dean Winchester. Sure this would technically be the one that got away but he's had quite a few of those.

"You should try talking to her." Drinking her rum and coke, Dean tried to keep his eyes off her perfect lips.

"Yeah, you've been going through a dry spell lately. When's the last time you got laid?" Sam asked, drinking from the straw that was held up in front of him. She swatted his shoulder, and Sam laughed in a weak attempt to avoid the next hit. Dean grimaced, his dry spell was noticeable and it killed him.

It wasn't entirely his fault. They'd been busy! Dean had been busy admiring Sam's girlfriend. Just thinking about it makes him shudder, he really was down bad. It would change tonight though. Dean would pick a girl, one that looked nothing like her, and he'd do what he does best. Then he'd finally be able to move on and forget about her.

"Sam, that's mean! Dean has better things to do than chase skirts, maybe you should take a page from his book." Sam squeezed her thighs and she leaned into his touch, eyes glued to his hands. Taking another shot, Dean shut his eyes for a minute to let the liquor settle.

Opening his mouth for a rebuttal, he was cut off by a high pitched voice.

"Excuse me?" The three of them turned to see the woman from the bar staring right in front of their table. Her hands were clasped behind her back and Dean could see her chest up close. Like two large oranges, covered in silver glitter. She was wearing a gorgeous pink dress with mesh sleeves that showed her shoulders.

"Hi there!" Out of the three of them, she was always the sweetest when it came to strangers. If Dean had social graces, she was the queen of social skills.

The woman's eyes stayed glued on Dean's and she was looking at him with want. Dean gave a small smile that he had to force onto his face. He wished the smile came to his face as naturally as it did when the woman across smiled at him. Her bright grin always gave Dean an easy smile, like a contagious grin.

"I was just wondering if your friend wanted to join me for a drink. I'm April."

"Dean. I'd love to get a drink with you, beautiful." April gave a flirty laugh and batted her eyelashes at him, and Dean slid out of the booth trying to still the thudding of his chest. Glancing back, Dean shot a thumbs up to Sam and his girl. April's soft hand wrapped around Dean's large ones, leading him back to her stool.

"What'll you have?" She asked seductively, and Dean wanted to frown so badly. He fought to keep his eyes on April, not on Sam and the goddess of a woman sitting on top of him.

"A beer if you don't mind." Wiping his sweaty palms down his pants, he hoped she wouldn't notice how much his hands were sweating. Or how much he was sweating.

It felt wickedly warm in the crowded club, and when Dean glanced back at his brother. The large man was gone, and so was his girlfriend. Had he been ditched? Left all alone with April?

"A beer and a martini please." April waved over the bartender. She looked back at him and cleared her throat lightly, pulling back his attention.

It was good he was left with April, his only distraction now gone.

"So April, where are you from?" Time to turn on some of his famous charm.

"Atlanta, you?"

"They make angels in Atlanta now?" After a moment, April averted her gaze. She looked a bit flustered, and their drinks were placed down in front of them.

"Cheesy." She laughed and Dean gave a laugh of his own. This was working. He didn't feel a large desire for April, but he was out of his own head for the first time that night.

"I know. I'm from Kansas, but if women like you are just roaming around down here I might need to move." Taking a sip of the beer, he felt the liquor starting to kick in.

"What brings you to Georgia?"

"My brother, his girlfriend and I are here for a trip."

"That girl sitting on him? She was cute, they look good together." April commented thoughtfully. Oh God, why did he mention her? The memories of her were like a punch to the gut, rushing right back to him.

"Yeah. Make each other real happy." It was the best he could muster. He meant it too. Sam and his lady make each other happy. It makes Dean happy. Tonight, Dean would be happy with April.

"Do you have anyone who makes you happy like that?" April asked, placing a hand on his knee. Her hand felt warm on his knee and he smirked. Placing his hand over hers, he scooted himself closer to her.

"You can make me happy like that." The two leant in then met each other for a deep kiss in the middle. Dean held her face in her hands, feeling her soft lips on his. She pushed him back a bit, sliding off the chair and standing over him.

They separated for air before she pressed another aggressive kiss to his lips, leaving her sticky gloss on his lips. Pulling away again, Dean followed her lips.

"We should dance." Dean nodded, following her pulling him to the dance floor. The music thrummed in his ears, the bass reverberated through him. For once, all he could focus on was April. She really was pretty.

Long blonde hair and a neon dark pink dress made her look like Barbie. Her white eyeliner drew elaborate patterns. The glitter on her body shimmered beautifully, and her dark eyes were calling him to her bed and into her arms. She smelt like coconuts and mocha. Under the flashing lights, her makeup glowed in the dark.

They began to dance, slowly at first and she pressed her hips to his. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her chest against his. His hands found her hips, and they began to grind to the beat of the music. He was feeling like Dean again, feeling like nothing stood in his way outside of his personal issues.

She whispered his name as his grasp tightened around her hips.

Then it happened. It was like a path cleared, and Dean saw her. Her tight dress wrapped around her, hips moving on Sam. She was throwing it back on his little brother in a sensual fashion, and Sam's hands were tight on her hips. Sam's brows were furrowed in intense focus, watching her hips move on his crotch. With each jump of her hips, Dean felt his heart sink.

April basically disappeared, even though he could still feel her lips pressing glossy kisses to his neck. He wanted to push her off of him.

If April was an angel, she was a goddess. It was like she was basically calling him over. Her dark bohemian braids were falling over her shoulders like a waterfall. Sam's tongue poked out of his lips in deep focus.

April turned them around, thankfully saving Dean from falling back into his heart ache. He could feel his heart crawling back to his throat, and he was on the verge of dying of a broken heart. April pressed her lips back to his, but Dean couldn't have as much passion before. All thoughts of April were replaced by thoughts of her.

As they danced under the flashing lights, Dean's eyes found their way back to Sam and his girlfriend. Now they were making out again, Sam taking in handfuls of her.

Dean couldn't help but watch with pitiful eyes as the realization set in the longer he looked their way.

They pulled apart, and Sam whispered something in her ear. She nodded, and Sam pressed a hard kiss to the top of her head. The two started for the club exit, and it was like she was taking Dean's heart with him.

April was still dancing with him and he couldn't hide his sigh. He couldn't do it. He pulled her off him, and avoided making eye contact. The tips of his ears turned red from embarrassment, his neck felt hot. April looked at him with confusion, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"Hey I'm sorry. I think I had too much to drink, I can't do this. I'm not feeling the best." He stammered awkwardly. April's face slowly fell in disappointment. Then she looked sympathetic, understanding that he felt like he was close to throwing up. Not for the reason she thought. He felt sick of sadness and self disappointment.

"Oh...I'm sorry. Are you okay, do you need help or something?" Rubbing his shoulder, Dean shrugged it off and shook his head.

"No I'm fine, I think I'm just gonna head out. It was nice meeting you." April nodded, watching Dean wave her goodbye and head for the door as well. His mind and heart raced, the feeling of jealousy replaced with fear.

He made it to Baby, the cool air of the night breezing his face. His head spun, the ground feeling unsteady under his feet. His legs felt like jelly and he unlocked the car door. Crawling into the driver's seat, Dean took a deep breath, attempting to steady his heart beat but he couldn't do it no matter what.

He was in deeper than he thought. He knew he had it bad, he knew he wanted her so badly that it was almost insane but he didn't realize it was this bad. He could hear his blood pounding in his ears, like he was still in the club.

His hands shook with guilt. It was his little brother. How could he want to take away something so precious from his little brother? How could he want to do that? How could he not talk himself out of it?

April didn't work. Drinking didn't work. Dancing with someone else didn't work. Nothing was working. No matter what he tried, it just wasn't working. His stomach turned, and he felt his throat dry up.

His eyes stung with tears of frustration. Why didn't it work? He knew why. There was no replacing her. There was no replacing someone so beautiful, inviting, intriguing. Someone with such a broad personality couldn't be replaced. She haunted Dean, like an awful memory or a terrible hangover. She wasn’t just beautiful, her entire personality was. Her very soul was. Every part of her was. It was like she cleaned his spirit just by being near him.

His brother was happy. For the first time since Jess, Sam found a girl who he could be himself with. A girl who loved Sam for Sam and here was Dean wanting her for himself. Sam deserves her. Sam deserves someone who shows him he's worth love. Who shows him just how much she cares for nothing in return. A person who understands him in ways Dean couldn't.

Dean was terrible, terrible for his shameful desires. The tears felt hotter than hell, scolding down his cheeks. A silent sob shook through his body. He ran away from a gorgeous woman because he wanted what his brother had. No. It wasn't about wanting what Sam had. He never cared about Sam having a girl or not, the way Sam never cared who Dean shacked up with. It was about her. Dean wanted her and no one else.

He had it bad, he had the type of feelings that don't just go away because of a night with someone else. He realized then that when she left that night with Sam she truly did take his entire heart with him. And there was no getting it back.

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Thank you all for reading! Please let me know what you thought <3

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I hope you guys enjoyed this series <3

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